The crucible of San Juan: surviving the change from desert to alpine in the CDT


Today I’m writing to you all from beautiful, busy, touristy Pagosa Springs, Colorado! That means we’ve traversed about a third of the San Juan Mountains, often considered one of the most challenging sections of the CDT due to the remote, high-elevation, snow-laden landscape. But was it? So far, yeah, I think he easily made all of New Mexico look like a piece of cake. Let’s chat about it!

New equipment and new strategies: adapt to the snow

Of all the things that make San Juan a step up in difficulty, snow travel certainly tops the list. Although this has been a historically low snow year in Colorado (sorry to all the skiers here!), there is still plenty of snow cover at elevations above 10,000 feet, especially on north-facing slopes where the sun doesn’t shine. That said, you need to make some specific modifications to your walking style.

Little snow year or not, there is still a lot of white stuff making the trail occasionally sketchy!

First, the snow required some minor gear modifications, most notably the addition of an ice ax and microspikes, which I sent back to Chama. I had been quite hesitant about carrying the additional weight of the new equipment, but in the end, I was glad to have the additional safety insurance they offered. Microspikes are especially useful early in the morning, when the snow is still hard and crunchy from overnight frosts. The extra traction can be the deciding factor in whether or not you slide down a slippery slope toward your untimely doom. And if you happen to take that tragic descent down the slope, your ice ax comes in handy to help you self-arrest by burying your pick in the snow.

Microspikes and an ice ax – my new standard carry!

Changing my equipment was only half the battle. When walking through spring snow, timing can be everything. Early in the morning the snowpack is icy and hard, which can make steep descents quite dangerous, but traverses are much easier. Make the same traverse across the mountainside much later in the day, say in the afternoon, and the snowpack will become soft and unstable, which can lead to post holes, a sickening phenomenon where you can fall up to your butt in snow with every step. At the end of each day, we look ahead and do our best to time our day’s hike to align with the most ideal conditions to achieve decent mileage. I’m especially grateful to the people I’ve been hiking with (Pit Stop, Joker, and Journey), as they all have experience in the snow thanks to the PCT and have been more than willing to teach me the art of spring snow walking.

Pit Stop, Joker and I cross a field of snow, ice axes ready (📸: Trip)

Walking in a group is more than just being able to enjoy each other’s company: it’s also an extra set of eyes to spot the best route, a new set of legs to rotate to the front of the lineup to make your way, and an extra safety net in case something goes wrong. In the desert of New Mexico, following your own path and pace was easy, but in the high mountains of Colorado, I found it incredibly valuable to stick together during these difficult days.

The San Juan crew!

Finally, it’s worth mentioning the silent tax of hiking between 11,000 and 13,000 feet. I thought I would have acclimated better to these elevations, but we regularly had climbs that left me feeling weak and weak as I struggled to breathe in the thin atmosphere. Seriously, I felt like I was carrying 15 extra pounds. I really hope you start feeling better in the next section!

Taking a well-deserved rest at the end of a climb!

Day by Day: Earning Our Miles in the Snow

After my team finally arrived at the post office in Chama, it was time to check out of the hotel and hit the road. Pit Stop had left earlier that day, leaving Joker, Journey and I to catch a ride a little later. Joker had made a connection with a local octogenarian radio personality named Diamond Dave (see 96.1 KFLH – Chama, NM), who drove us to the trailhead at Cumbres Pass in his gnarly black Jeep. Since we didn’t hit the trail until about noon, we only planned to go about 15 miles to Dipping Lake. This first day was pretty easy, since we wouldn’t get snow until a little later, when we were at a higher altitude. We regrouped at the end of the day and planned the next day to do a steep descent about 20 miles ahead toward the end of the next day, when the snow would melt enough to not be a dangerous sled race.

Dipping Lake at dusk (didn’t swim – too cold)!

The second day was when things finally got a little spicy and we were able to get our feet wet, literally. It turns out that punching poles through loose snow and walking through soft fields of meltwater is a sure recipe for soggy feet. I’ll spare you the photos, but my feet looked like those of a corpse pulled from a river. I’ll get busy figuring out a better strategy for drying feet on the next stretch of trail, probably with some sort of sock rotation. I know that walking with macerated feet long term will cause problems, so I’ll keep you posted on what works for me.

When we reached the descent at the end of the day, the rest of the crew taught me how to glissade! For those unfamiliar, glissading is essentially sliding down a snowy slope on your butt while using the tip of your ice ax as a handbrake to control your speed. I was nervous about doing it at first, but it turned out to be pretty fun. It certainly can be a quick way to get down a hill, but the snow needs to be in that sweet spot between bulletproof ice and sleet to get the right pace.

The ride slides down the snowy slope!

The third day of our free time was, for me, one of the most difficult hiking days I have ever been through. Over 22 miles, we were challenged by everything San Juan had to offer: snow, elevation, and even a thunderstorm that prompted us to take a side trail to lower the elevation at Elwood Pass. The storm ended up blowing northwest, but I was glad to play it safe and descend to the relative safety of the tree line. The afternoon turned out to be mild, but I definitely limped into camp on tired feet. We positioned ourselves for a fairly easy fourth day, with only 12 miles remaining in Pagosa Springs, CO.

We are truly spoiled by the views of the countryside!

Compared to the third day, which dodged the storm and eroded the feet, our last day to Pagosa Springs was a walk in the park. We hiked quickly to Wolf Creek Pass, where I then spent two hours looking for a snag. I thought Colorado would be easy to hitchhike with all the outdoorsy people, but I had a great time. I finally got in trouble with a restaurant owner in Creede, CO, who drove me a half hour into town, where I could enjoy the city’s authentic food. We split the cost of an Airbnb and decided to take another day of rest before heading out on the next 117 mile stretch. Pagosa Springs is quite a touristy town with a free hot spring on the river in the center – quite an idyllic place for a zero!

Tourists heading to Pagosa Springs ignored me for hours!

Feet up in the hot springs of Pagosa Springs!

Overall, completing South San Juan left me proud of what I’ve accomplished on this hike so far. In this section, I learned new skills, pushed myself, and forged stronger connections with my fellow hikers. Sitting here now, I feel more than prepared to face even more difficult challenges ahead. I think I’m right where I’m supposed to be.

One last cheesy photo!

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