tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71593970933189108742024-03-05T14:21:17.600-08:00Sierra Hikes!At age 9, Sierra aka "Monkey" became the youngest person on record to complete a continuous thru-hike of the 2,665 mile Pacific Crest Trail!
Click on the links below to read the journal of her 2012 PCT hike with her mother Heather aka "Mama Bear", her 2013 hike of the Colorado Trail, her hike of the Continental Divide Trail (completed over the summers from 2014-16), or to follow along on our other adventures!Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger371125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159397093318910874.post-57133106023777111112016-07-29T15:04:00.000-07:002016-08-21T15:05:26.392-07:00Day 45: Abandoned Mine to Spring Creek Pass (Finished!)<div>
Our last day. With mixed emotions, we packed up our gear and tent for the last time on the CDT. </div>
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We again wore all our layers and climbed into the sunshine, peeling off the extra clothes when we reached the high point of the Colorado Trail (13,274 ft), also the high point of this summer's section of the CDT. (We reached the actual high point of the CDT, Gray's Peak at 14,261 ft, in the summer of 2014). Then we enjoyed meandering along the high alpine ridges, with incredible views of the San Juan Mountains, beautiful golden wildflowers. Shy pika chirped as we passed, then dashed out of sight. Bold marmots also chirped at us, but stood proudly on nearby rocks. A herd of bighorn sheep grazed in a meadow below. </div>
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Throughout the day we met Nordic Track (PCT '15) and a handful of other hikers. But mostly we met Colorado Trail mountain bike racers, some looking strong, others looking wiped out even at the beginning of the day. All of them agreed that there was a lot more hiking than biking involved in the race, but what incredible terrain to hike a bike through!</div>
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We dropped down into the trees and then crossed the Jarosa Mesa, where a large herd of sheep were grazing. Our pace quickened as we descended into the trees. We knew we were close. </div>
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"Daddy!" Sierra shrieked, as she started running down the trail. In the distance, a tall figure began running up to meet her. The two collided into a big hug. Then, together, we hiked the last mile down to Spring Creek Pass, where our CDT adventure started. </div>
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Our CDT adventure over, it was time for celebration. We reminisced a bit, compared starting and ending photos (wow, she's grown!), and waited for it all to sink in. It took three summer vacations, but we finally did it! We hiked the Continental Divide Trail!</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159397093318910874.post-5589580078973591732016-07-28T21:30:00.000-07:002016-08-20T12:35:26.820-07:00Day 44: Colorado Trail Junction to Abandoned Mine<div>
The pale, glowing half moon lit the night sky. I shivered in my down cocoon, watching. Outside, a frost formed on the meadow. </div>
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The sun reached our meadow as we packed up. Even so, we hiked out wearing all our warm clothes, toes still numb. But we still enjoyed the beauty as the first golden sunlight bathed the nearby mountains, which were reflected in a nearby pond. </div>
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After the solitude of the New Mexico CDT, overlapping with the super popular Colorado Trail is a real adjustment. Now the trail is clearly marked, willows neatly cut back from the trail. Numerous footprints of hikers and horses are imprinted into the hard dried mud. Giant rock cairns are visible from one ridge to the next over a mile away, like signal fires of old. The rock cairns suggest a high stakes Jenga game, as each rock precariously balanced on another to create a stable whole. </div>
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And then there are the other hikers. Lots of hikers. Men, women, young, old, human, canine. Even bikers, who seemed to spend a lot of time hiking, pushing their bikes up steep, rocky hills. Some hikers had towering packs that would give Cheryl Strayed's "Monster" a run for its money and others mimicked the fast and light style of ultralight long distance thru hikers. We were meeting hikers frequently now, due in part to the fact that we are hiking northbound on the CDT and most Colorado Trail hikers head southbound. By the end of the day, we would see more hikers than during all the rest of this summer's hike combined. </div>
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"Baaaa!" The protests of hundreds of sheep met our ears as we rounded a be d in the trail. An efficient sheep dog sprinted across the hillside, herding the sheep down to a grazed area near the shepherd's camp. </div>
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We watched the clouds gather as we ate lunch by a small alpine lake (12,817 ft). All afternoon, the clouds threatened. We watched the rain on nearby ridges. Strong winds and a few spots of rain had us scurrying for our jackets only to remove them less than an hour later when the sun came out. </div>
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More and more bikes came tearing down the trail (or slogging up the climbs). One rider, who had stopped to filter water at a creek), explained that they were part of a Colorado Trail bike race. Similar to the Tour Divide, riders are times using the tracking feature on a Spot device, which he had lashed to his bike frame. Headlamp strapped to his helmet, he planned to ride on to Silverton that night. </div>
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Although we started passing the tents of camping Colorado Trail hikers by 3:00 in the afternoon, we hiked on. By early evening, we reached the final climb to the high point on the Colorado Trail (which is not the highest point on the CDT as the CDT climbs over 14,000 feet on the top of Gray's Peak farther north in Colorado) and a dilemma. If we continued, we would have to either camp above 13,000 feet or continue hiking in the dark for eight more miles to a safe camp. With clouds still threatening, we chose to stop early, and found a flat, rocky camp at an old mining site. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159397093318910874.post-72418429043189831812016-07-27T21:04:00.000-07:002016-08-20T12:34:56.358-07:00Day 43: La Vaca Creek to Colorado Trail Junction<div>
I watched the first light as it slowly worked its way down the mountain. The warm light touched the meadow, melting the morning frost. But it could not reach our little camp, tucked away in the trees on the fringe of the meadow, and the morning was chilly. We lingered in our sleeping bags for warmth. </div>
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When we finally started climbing up the trail, we met our first thru-hiker of the summer, Hippie Longstocking. She is at the back of the pack heading northbound, although she decided to flip and hike this section southbound to join friends. She has hiked all over, and we really enjoyed talking with her. </div>
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We continued climbing to a small lake below The Window, a rectangular shaped notch in the rocky ridge. There we encountered a large group of young people, their REI dome tents plunked down right next to the trail, partially obscuring the view of the lake and nearby mountains. Most of the campers were just emerging from their tents, although it was late morning. One young man lumbered down to the stream and dunked his food encrusted metal fork and spoon in the water. He grunted an unintelligible response to our greeting as we passed. Most of the group just ignored us or talked about us as though we weren't there. "I think they're photographers," one boy asserted knowingly, as I attempted to take a photograph of the lake and The Window that did not include any the herd of people milling about or their large, colorful tents. </div>
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The Window was incredible, as were the surrounding mountains. We enjoyed lunch on the rocky cliffs on the ridge, with spectacular views of the rugged mountains and the lush green meadows below. We spent the rest of the day meandering past gorgeous, flower-filled high alpine meadows and clear blue lakes.</div>
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And then we reached the junction of the CDT and the Colorado Trail. In some ways, this is the end of the journey. We already hiked the remaining 40 miles when we hiked the Colorado Trail in 2013. But we plan to finish our CDT journey where we started at Spring Creek Pass, so after a brief celebration, we continued up the trail. </div>
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We camped high on the mesa, grateful for a clear night. Without a moon in the sky (it would rise later on the night), the sky looked like a planetarium, with unobstructed, 360 degree views of bright stars set against a dark sky.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159397093318910874.post-88512798203182360472016-07-26T21:17:00.000-07:002016-08-20T12:34:28.011-07:00Day 42: Trout Lake to Valley Above La Vaca Creek<div>
A narrow sliver of sunlight pierced the dark grey veil of clouds that shrouded our little valley. The mountains came alive, basking in the light and warmth. The still pond near our camp reflected the soft glow of the mountains and the golden sunflowers that lined its shores. Nearby, elk called to one another as they grazed. </div>
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We climbed back up to the CDT, and continued climbing to the ridge. We would climb high and stay high for much of the day, enjoying incredible views and fields of wildflowers on every ridge. </div>
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The constant threat of thunderstorms changes how we view the landscape. We still appreciate the incredible beauty, but we are constantly scanning for terrain features that might shelter us from a storm, gauging how far it is to the nearest gully or small stand of trees. And we are frequently too hot, climbing ridges in layers of rain gear. </div>
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We did not see any other hikers all day. Then, rounding a corner a pack train approached, with a solitary packer, a string of loaded animals, and a handful of clients experiencing the mountains by horseback. </div>
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We finally descended from the alpine ridges, following the North Fork of Los Pinos River into a beautiful, lush, green valley. Deer grazed by the many branches of the river. Three backpackers greeted us on the other side, inviting us to join them at their camp in the trees if we did not find anything up the trail. We hiked on slowly, distracted by the wild strawberries that lined the trail. </div>
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Reaching a higher valley with multiple campsites, we decided to make an early camp, knowing that campsites might be scarce as we continued to climb. The rain resumed shortly after we climbed into the tent. Through the rain I heard something large crunching near our tent. Two eyes reflected back at me when I peered outside with a headlamp. The deer stared back at me a moment, then returned to grazing loudly. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159397093318910874.post-8268845653646872222016-07-25T20:30:00.000-07:002016-08-20T12:33:55.134-07:00Day 41: Mile 896 to Trout Lake<div>
A lone marmot posed on a rock like a yogi, surveying the valley below</div>
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In his own version of the sun salutation pose. We caught only glimpses of the sun through a thin curtain of grey cloud, but magic happened when the sun touched the high alpine meadows. The sun brought color and life to the magenta paintbrush, golden sunflowers, lavender daisies, and other wildflowers that dotted the amber green grass. We reveled in the beauty. </div>
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A solitary hiker crossed the meadow to meet us. He was finishing up a short section, and has been hiking small pieces of the CDT when he has time. We enjoyed talking with him. Even better, a few miles down the trail we discovered a bag of gummy Lifesavers he dropped. Thru-hikers at heart, we ate them!</div>
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Once again, the storms began like clockwork at 11:30. We huddled under a rock overhang flanked by two firs to eat our lunch. We were grateful when the rain finally stopped because the trail traverses a series of high exposed ridgelines. The trail is steep and rocky in places, and progress was slow. At times, I felt I was roller skating on marbles as I slipped on loose rocks. </div>
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We planned to camp at Cherokee Lake, just before the Knife Edge. But there was no sheltered camping there and we decided to hike on. The rain started up again just as we reached the Knife Edge, named for its sheer cliffs above the trail and steep drop off below. Even with the rain, the Knife Edge was beautiful: rugged cliffs, great views, and a trail lined with wildflowers. And then we were treated to a double rainbow. Magic!</div>
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The CDT remains high and exposed for some time. So when we reached there junction with the the Williams Creek Trail, we took the short side hike to Trout Lake to camp. As we approached, we spotted two blue tents in the trees about a quarter mile from where we camped. Now, as we are getting ready to sleep, we hear the happy shouts of a family. Other than when we stayed at a car campground, such as Ghost Ranch, it is the first night we've camped near other people this summer. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159397093318910874.post-23249986541723457212016-07-24T20:30:00.000-07:002016-08-20T12:33:31.951-07:00Day 40: Wolf Creek Pass to Mile 896<div>
The beginning of the end. Our final section to complete the CDT. </div>
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We met several people within the first few miles: a pair of mountain bikers careening around a blind corner, two weekend backpackers, and a day hiker. And we heard young voices bellowing out the song BINGO at the top of their lungs. And then there was no one. Just the complete solitude we've come to expect on the CDT. </div>
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If we were hoping for a sunny, dry section, we were soon to be disappointed. The first thunderstorm began shortly after 11, starting with a few spots of rain and quickly escalating into a downpour. We huddled under a pair of scrawny fir trees for lunch, then trudged up the trail, slipping in mud and crunching on hail. </div>
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The rain teased us all afternoon. We added and removed layers frequently as the rain stopped and started on fits and spurts. Thankfully, the thunder did not return with the rain, and we were able to safely navigate several beautiful miles high on the ridge. </div>
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When the trail finally dipped below 12,000 feet, we decided to make an early camp. If we continued, we would have at least 7 more steep, high elevation miles before camp. Instead, we decided to call it a day and enjoy a relaxing evening. Unfortunately, camping was scarce. We finally selected a sandy spot just below the ridge. Although I was nervous because the camp was more exposed than I would like, most of the clouds cleared to expose a dark sky full of bright stars. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159397093318910874.post-48261064770674809602016-07-23T14:13:00.001-07:002016-08-14T06:10:18.680-07:00Day 39: Silver Pass to Wolf Creek Pass (South Fork Nearo)<div>Food. Showers. Even at the end of a section as beautiful as the southern San Juans, it is impossible to stave off the excitement of heading into town for real food, showers, and a fresh resupply. With only a handful of miles left to Wolf Creek Pass, we did not have long to wait. </div><div><br></div><div>An abandoned red snow plow signaled that we had passed the Wolf Creek Ski Area boundary. Several groups of day hikers crowded their way to the ridge, most headed to see the view from nearby Mount Alberta. Although we admired the colorful flowers and the spectacular views, we were on a mission. </div><div><br></div><div>Soon we were piled into a pickup truck, speeding toward the tiny town of South Fork. On the other side of the pass lay Pagosa Springs, a larger town with more services for hikers who might need them. But for us, the quiet, friendly town of South Fork worked just fine. </div><div><br></div><div>Ramon's, the Mexican restaurant, provided excellent service and a delicious dinner. We topped it off with a pint of Ben & Jerry's ice cream, and settled in for a relaxing evening. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieU2iJ4wwxt8bHZJQheI3keHicYtdMDmlO_M6mHJUNX8cmd1ZXPNshruL2v3K2FsuaQmuzt465vgOSK5omMv8j8786YANjLf8zpGF4_D3tSvLYfVcT6760qjvxSFsKk6mSqvndkU32Bh-J/s640/blogger-image--1526061366.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieU2iJ4wwxt8bHZJQheI3keHicYtdMDmlO_M6mHJUNX8cmd1ZXPNshruL2v3K2FsuaQmuzt465vgOSK5omMv8j8786YANjLf8zpGF4_D3tSvLYfVcT6760qjvxSFsKk6mSqvndkU32Bh-J/s640/blogger-image--1526061366.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG-dlTiY01a6VbHvRaO0AVr7HuhUo80kszlmrz8Bw6RbCRI-HlYZ-r-6NmKcvmsmZz5s48sYVefLxH5s3QVlsFpHmQura4GVC3A3DpHdprBJKA8uraIyQXELE6-ALUzBKKxN1MrvcLN96l/s640/blogger-image-450848980.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG-dlTiY01a6VbHvRaO0AVr7HuhUo80kszlmrz8Bw6RbCRI-HlYZ-r-6NmKcvmsmZz5s48sYVefLxH5s3QVlsFpHmQura4GVC3A3DpHdprBJKA8uraIyQXELE6-ALUzBKKxN1MrvcLN96l/s640/blogger-image-450848980.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjya5GvmpBc6I-SbKyrFbJgncdDyW0ixAXy30rw-M4IKG9OKyolojlDTeEJLT4iPO5wlUlPCF5EdLVqlfZg7FjwnmVdmxhJqN4PFE6tSlvokcglAZPmybVN2HlqIjmRZqHGZorllqQJhDVz/s640/blogger-image-1218422356.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjya5GvmpBc6I-SbKyrFbJgncdDyW0ixAXy30rw-M4IKG9OKyolojlDTeEJLT4iPO5wlUlPCF5EdLVqlfZg7FjwnmVdmxhJqN4PFE6tSlvokcglAZPmybVN2HlqIjmRZqHGZorllqQJhDVz/s640/blogger-image-1218422356.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159397093318910874.post-89791228332072154642016-07-22T20:30:00.000-07:002016-08-20T12:32:52.005-07:00Day 38: North Fork Conejo River to Silver Pass<div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">There is one item that doesn't appear on anyone's CDT gear list, yet should be mandatory equipment: a machete. Even in a relatively popular wilderness area like South San Juan Wilderness, the trail is badly overgrown in places. We began our morning pushing through firs and willow that completely obscured the trail. As we focused on keeping the upper branches from stabbing our eyes or scratching our faces, the lower branches grasped our legs as effectively as Devil's Snare in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone.</span></div>
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After a month of dreaming about icy cold water while hiking in the desert, the southern San Juans are a dream come true. Rivers, creeks, and streams are everywhere. At one, water cascades over the rocks in a beautiful series of waterfalls, the upper falls forming icicles before passing by a melting snow bank, then continuing past the trail and into the valley below. At the Adams Fork of the Conejos, the water tumbles down the mountain into fields of wildflowers. </div>
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Piles of thunderheads greeted us when we climbed onto the ridge. Our hearts sank. The trail would stay above 12,000 feet for more than 6 miles. Oh, Colorado. You lure us in with your lofty peaks, your lush green mountains, your colorful wildflowers, your herds of elk and wildlife, and your icy cold creeks. Then you try to kill us with your endless exposed ridges and your frequent thunderstorms. </div>
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We met a wizened local backpacker high on the ridge. He studied the clouds, then sagely advised us to check the skies and evaluate heading for cover by mid afternoon. But by mid afternoon we were already below treeline, and the clouds seems to have converged on a ridge some miles away. </div>
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We hiked several sections of beautiful trail recently built or maintained by the Southwest Conservation Corp. Nearby, several rocky, narrow, off-camber sections of trail traversed steep ridges with dangerous drops. Perhaps the next trail project?</div>
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As tempting as it was to head for town, Wolf Creek Pass, the next highway crossing that would take us to our final resupply in South Fork, was just too far away. We camped on a wooded saddle at Silver Pass, and dreamed of the delicious food we would eat the next day. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159397093318910874.post-34306078594507480542016-07-21T21:30:00.000-07:002016-08-20T12:32:24.273-07:00Day 37: Dipping Vat Lakes to North Fork Conejo River<div>
A lone elk barked his wake up call near the lake. The clouds had cleared in the night, and a nearly full, pale gold moon lit the dawn sky. A mist rose from the lake as the sun began to rise. </div>
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Sierra's 13th birthday. She has spent a lot of birthdays on the trail: her 7th at Evolution Lake along the John Muir Trail, her 9th at Drakesbad, just past the halfway point on the Pacific Crest Trail, her 10th at Mesa Verde, the day after completing the Colorado Trail, her 11th in the Great Divide Basin along the Wyoming Continental Divide Trail, and her 12th in the Bob Marshall Wilderness along the CDT in Montana. So it is only fitting that she should celebrate her 13th birthday in the Southern San Juans in Colorado as we finish the CDT. </div>
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The weather cooperated to give Sierra a beautiful, sunny birthday morning. We climbed up the ridge and hiked through lush, green alpine meadows sprinkled with a rainbow of wildflowers and dotted with small tarns. We stopped at a snowy tarn to celebrate the moment of her 13th birthday with a picture and a strawberry shortcake roll. </div>
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The clouds began building like clockwork, but it was difficult to make rapid progress through such spectacular scenery. We stopped to admire the reflection of the mountains in the water, smile at the cheerful bouquets of bright yellow sunflowers, marvel at the perfectly formed purple and white columbines, feel the soft, fuzzy white beargrass, and listen to the marmots chirping as they scrambled over the rocks. We also stopped to talk to a solo hiker exploring the trail from his base camp perched high in the trees just below the ridge. </div>
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"Unmarked left turn at cairn!" The Databook and our CDT app both warned. But as we passed at least a hundred cairns, it was understandably difficult to discern which one indicated the unmarked turn. Of course, we missed it, as we happily crunched along on a soft, Christmas scented bed of fir needles. Backtracking and route finding, all in a day's work on the CDT. </div>
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A soft, low rumble, like the distant rolling beat of a timpani, notified us that the day's thunderstorms had begun. And yet a patch of sunshine seemed to follow us throughout the day, even as it rained on distant ridges. </div>
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We spotted another lone backpacker as we crossed the Middle Fork of the Conejos River. He quickly scuttled away as we approached, only reemerging again to watch us as we climbed out of the canyon. An unusual encounter, as most hikers we meet are quite friendly, but we respected his privacy and left with only a passing wave. </div>
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We climbed over two mountain passes in quick succession. A large elk herd peacefully grazed near a small tarn on the other side of the pass. We dropped down to the North Fork of the Conejos River, and made a comfortable camp on a soft bed of fir needles with incredible views of the rugged mountains above and the lush green valley below. We had been warned to expect storms, and sure enough, the wind picked up and lightning flashed on the ridge while directly above we enjoyed a sky full of stars and the rising golden moon. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159397093318910874.post-42612414756799635922016-07-20T21:30:00.000-07:002016-08-20T12:32:02.699-07:00Day 36: Cumbres Pass to Dipping Vat Lakes<div>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">After a delicious breakfast at the Boxcar Cafe, we headed back up to Cumbres Pass, elevation 9,980 feet. We passed under the railroad tracks and began to climb. We will be above 10,000 feet for the remainder of the trail, a disconcerting thought during monsoon season. </span></div>
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"Where's my phone?" Sierra asked, panicked. And thus began a 1-2 mile trek back to the trailhead to ascertain the whereabouts of the missing phone. Several phone calls later we determine that the phone had fallen out of a pack pocket on the ride up to the trailhead. </div>
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Phone finally in hand, we again began our hike, albeit much later than planned. The passenger train clicked up the tracks amid a cloud of smoke and steam, loud whistles filling the valley as the train crossed the highway. Two pairs of day hikers met us as they hiked back down to the trailhead, one pair heading to the train, the other back to a car. </div>
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Dark clouds gathered. We heard the first rumble of thunder as we reached Mountain Pass. But when we saw lightning on Flat Top Mountain, just ahead along the trail, we knew we needed to take action. Scuttling off the ridge, we ducked below treeline and followed elk trails parallel to our route. A large bull elk stared at us as his herd thundered away, down to a nearby meadow. </div>
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The storm passed, and we scrambled back up to the ridge. A marmot chirped as we approached, then scampered over the rocks up the ridge. Two small pikas played peek-a-boo, tentatively edging out from behind a rock, peering at us, then scrambling back to safety. Fields of small yellow sunflowers and bright white daisies lined the trail, with smaller purple and white columbine, red paintbrush, and other wildflowers to add color. </div>
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Dipping Vat Lakes beautifully reflected the rocky cliffs and grey clouds in their still waters. We found camp by the last lake, poised to begin climbing tomorrow. As we huddled in the tent to dry out and warm up, we marveled at how, just a few short days ago, we were struggling to cope with the heat.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159397093318910874.post-51794935691068623452016-07-19T21:30:00.000-07:002016-08-20T12:31:19.077-07:00Day 35: Upper Lagunitas, NM to Cumbres Pass, CO<div>
"This is awesome!" Sierra effused. The first golden rays of sunshine gently woke the bright yellow sunflowers that lined the trail. From our vantage point on the ridge we had a perfect view is the deep green valley below. Across the valley, a rainbow dipped from the gray clouds, touching a light green meadow lit by the sun. </div>
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Brightly colored columbine, harebell, daisies, and other wildflowers dispelled any gloom that might otherwise have been caused by the gray, overcast day. </div>
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And then we reached the Brazos Ridge Overlook and caught our first breathtaking glimpse of the 14,000 foot peaks ahead in Colorado and I realized this is why one hikes the desert. It is not for the rare beauty of the desert, although the desert is beautiful. It is not for the excitement of climbing out of the desert into the forest for the first time, although climbing into that first pine, fir, and aspen forest was exciting. It is for the magic of crossing the desert, catching that first glimpse of the mountains ahead, and knowing they are yours to explore. </div>
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A lone antelope eyed us as we approached. We sat and watched each other for a few minutes before the antelope turned and bounded across the meadow and disappeared into the fir trees. </div>
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We still marveled at the abundant water as we stopped at the East Fork of Rio Brazos for lunch. We climbed through the forest and then onto trail carpeted with snaking red trailers of strawberry plants, tiny white blossoms brightening the shaded plants, delicious tiny red berries concealed underneath the leaves in the sun. Colorful wildflowers towered over the baby fir trees lining the trail. As we dipped back into the forest, a pair of elk crashed through the woods. </div>
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Finally, we spotted the Rio Grande National Forest sign in the distance. Colorado. Our first state when we started the CDT at Spring Creek Pass in 2014. Now our last state as we finish our final section. We crossed over the border from New Mexico to Colorado together. Enormous purple and white columbines, the Colorado state flower greeted us on the other side. </div>
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We admired the rocky cliffs, then quickly descended to Cumbres Pass, where we were whisked into the nearest town. Ironically, the nearest town was in New Mexico, not Colorado. Chama, New Mexico is a cute little town along the Cumbres-Toltec passenger railway, a coal train that takes passengers up to the pass or beyond to Colorado. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159397093318910874.post-82672963306529185992016-07-18T21:30:00.000-07:002016-08-20T12:30:59.461-07:00Day 34: Mile 765 to Upper Lagunitas Campground<div>
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Brilliant reds and pinks lit the morning sky as though it was on fire. I thought of the old saying, "Red sky at night, sailors' delight. Red sky at morning, sailors take warning." Sure enough, within a few minutes the drizzle began. </div>
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Grrrrr! The unmistakable growling roar of a Stihl chainsaw alerted us that it is firewood cutting season. We proceed cautiously. A friendly family was sawing a downed tree into fireplace lengths before loading them onto the back of their waiting pickup. It was not yet eight in the morning, but the truck was already half full. </div>
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You know you are a hiker when you get excited at the prospect of running water, garbage cans, and a vault toilet. We stopped briefly at the Lake Hopewell Campground to enjoy these luxuries, as well as views of Lake Hopewell, a small blue lake nestled in an aspen ringed meadow. Noticing two grayish white horses that reminded me of my niece's former horse, we chatted with their owners, a nice couple from Indiana who is spending the summer traveling and horseback riding in New Mexico and Colorado. </div>
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The sun peered out from behind the gray clouds, tentatively at first, then asserting its command over the day, albeit temporarily. Later in the afternoon, the clouds came back with a vengeance, starting with a low rumble but quickly dominating with a slow, deafening roar. Flashes of lightning dashed on the ridge. As we huddled in a small grove of fir trees to layer up, I thought of the many times I have read Patricia Polacco's Thunder Cake to my students during similar storms back home. </div>
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We hustled past the blackened remains of a lightning scarred tree as we listened to the thunder of the storm behind us. Below the rocky cliffs lay a deep green grassy canyon, one side lined with dark green firs, the other dotted with aspens.</div>
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Glancing over my shoulder as we climbed from the Lagunitas Lakes to the Upper Lagunitas Campground, I hurried my steps. A grey sheet of rain completely obscured the ridge behind us. Before we reached the abandoned campground, buckets of rain began dumping, quickly soaking us. Although I could not find the promised vault toilets and picnic tables were scarce, we quickly set up our tent in the most sheltered spot we could find and pulled all of our gear inside. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159397093318910874.post-11954009888511265272016-07-17T21:30:00.000-07:002016-08-20T12:30:30.008-07:00Day 33: Creek to Mile 765<div>
Golden sunlight warms the meadow and sparkles in the leaves of the aspens. The meadows brim with wildflowers, as though nature has assembled a flash mob times for our arrival: purple harebells, red paintbrush, pure white lilies, yellow and orange sunflowers, lavender daisies, bright red fireweed, and many others. Elk dash away as we approach, including several smaller herds of mothers with calves and one male with a large set of antlers. </div>
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The trail disappeared in the forest, although blue paint blazes on trees and rocks generally kept us on route. Blue blades of grass indicated that the paint marks are recent, but whether they were the work of the Continental Divide Trail Coalition or merely a benevolent graffiti artist we could not say. We tried to keep the marks in sight as we clambered over downed trees and attempted to avoid the thick undergrowth that tried to snare our ankles. </div>
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The trail improved as we followed a series of well marked trails, forest service roads, and abandoned Jeep trails. Several of the usual water sources are dry, but the Rio Vallecitos is more than 10 feet wide and flowing well.</div>
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Late in the day we found an established camp, guarded by two bulls. Unfortunately, the camp had not been well cared for by the campers, ranchers, or hunters who previously used it. Discarded cans, an abandoned pair of shoes, and toilet paper combined with the abundant cow manure to make a very unappealing camp. We found a cleaner spot a ways off, only to discover, after our tent was set up, that our bovine neighbors had activities other than sleep on their minds. We laughed at their loud bellowing, grunts and shrieks, but were grateful when the noisy herd finally moved on. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159397093318910874.post-27233058837320623912016-07-16T20:30:00.000-07:002016-08-20T12:30:01.541-07:00Day 32: Ghost Ranch to Creek by NM 110<div>
Loaded to capacity with water, we said farewell to the red gold sandstone cliffs of Ghost Ranch and began climbing out of the desert for the last time. The moment was bittersweet. We are ready for the higher mountains of northern New Mexico and southern Colorado. We are also a little sad that this final chapter of the CDT is coming to an end. </div>
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But there was no time for sentiment. The trail soon disappeared into a frustrating tangle of branches. Thorny wild roses scraped against bare legs. Bits of juniper clung to our hair. Thick willow and oak pressed against our arms. Ravenous and opportunistic mosquitoes and deer flies preyed on our exposed skin as we were slowed by the obstacle course of the overgrown trail. </div>
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We climbed into lush green pastures sprinkled with colorful wildflowers and ringed with aspens and oaks. Clear spring water flowed from a rusty metal pipe into a waiting trough, and we gratefully shared the cattle's water, perhaps for the last time. We are climbing into the mountains now, and should be passing creeks and springs regularly now. </div>
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A large herd of elk grazed in an upper meadow. A single wailing cry alerted the group as we approached, and they quickly disappeared into the aspen forest. A few miles later another herd, with several elk calves, grazed along the trail in a small grove of aspens. They waited until we were very close, then thundered away to repeated cries. A single elk continued to bark at us from across the creek after we set up camp. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159397093318910874.post-65190817848109706352016-07-15T20:30:00.000-07:002016-08-20T12:29:36.411-07:00Day 31: Mesa to Ghost Ranch (Highway 84)<div>
The reddish gold half moon disappeared behind the mesa to the west. A flash of light to the west caught my attention. It was quickly followed by another bright flash, then another, then another. Like the grand finale of an Independence Day fireworks show, the lightning came fast, with less than a second between each strike. </div>
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A few sleepless hours later, it was time to hike. The trail follows the south rim of the mesa, with views of the Rio Chama in the green valley below and the red and gold sandstone cliffs of the opposite mesa. Then we headed north across the mesa before descending the other side. </div>
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Then we were off to Ghost Ranch, former haunt of artist Georgia O'Keefe, now a Presbyterian retreat center that offers classes in diverse topics such as art, writing, paleontology, anthropology, and religion. The CDT used to pass right through, and the Ranch welcomes hikers and other guests. Although the new CDT route bypasses Ghost Ranch, it is a short 8 miles down the highway, and most hikers hitch a ride to resupply there. </div>
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By the time we showered and resupplied, we had little time to enjoy the on site paleontology and anthropology museums or the hikes and tours. But we enjoyed seeing Chimney Rock and the red and gold sandstone cliffs surrounding there Ranch, the same landscapes that had inspired and challenged Georgia O'Keefe. We also appreciated the unfailing kindness of those around us, both staff and fellow guests. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159397093318910874.post-14896885277067211442016-07-14T20:30:00.000-07:002016-08-20T12:28:44.370-07:00Day 30: Cecilia Stream to Los Viejos Mesa South Rim<div>
Deep in a canyon, the morning dawned cold. For the first time this summer, we left camp bundled up in warm layers, gloves, and hats. Still reveling in the ready access to natural water sources, we stopped to fill up at Cecilia Stream, near our camp. </div>
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We climbed steeply past red and gold sandstone cliffs up onto Mesa Alta. Elk galloped across the hillside and disappeared into the woods. Deep red earth marked the trail and the surrounding cliffs. </div>
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Disaster struck in early afternoon. We missed a poorly marked junction, continuing over a mile off route before being forced to backtrack. </div>
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We entered Rio Chama Wilderness and quickly descended into Ojitos Canyon. We looked hopefully for a promised stream, but were met instead with the rotting swampy smell of a drying stream bed. We instead filled up a few miles down the trail at a pipe flowing into a murky cattle trough. </div>
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We crossed Skull Bridge over the Rio Chama, the largest natural water source encountered on the CDT through New Mexico. A popular rafting site, the river roiled with dark brown silty water like frothy hot chocolate. </div>
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We climbed steeply up to the top of the mesa before finding a bed of soft pine needles with a view of the Rio Chama and the surrounding valley and carved sandstone cliffs. Trees bent over like the Leaning Tower of Pisa from the force of winds past. We fell asleep hoping that they remained strong enough to withstand the night's gentle breezes. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159397093318910874.post-1470331517102488812016-07-13T21:30:00.000-07:002016-08-20T12:28:01.941-07:00Day 29: Cuba to Near Cecilia Stream<div>
CDT hikers! We met Two Bad Dogs, section hiking the CDT from Ghost Ranch to Cuba, as we hiked out of town. We first met them on Sierra's seventh birthday, which we celebrated at Evolution Lake along the John Muir Trail. We enjoyed reconnecting with them and sharing information about the trail. Reluctantly, we parted ways, as they were heading southbound into Cuba, although it would have been fun to share this section with them. </div>
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The trail disappeared into the San Pedro Wilderness in a a sea of green. A cacophony of forest sounds serenaded us as we hiked: the gurgling of the stream, the rustling of the aspen leaves in the wind, the squawking of a blue jay, the hammering of a woodpecker. A rainbow of wildflowers lined the trail: paintbrush, penstemon, sunflowers, daisies, fireweed, lilies, columbine, lupine, beargrass, and many more. We passed through of butterflies as they fed on the nectar. </div>
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The mixed forest of pine, fir, and aspen opened into an expansive meadow with tall grass swaying in the breeze. We crossed several streams (water!!!), and watched a shy spotted brook trout swim underneath a rock, as though he believed, childlike, that we couldn't see him if he couldn't see us. </div>
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For the first time in New Mexico, we climbed above 10,000 feet. Meadows, wildflowers, and forests all seemed like a window into heaven to eyes accustomed to parched desert earth. </div>
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We descended through a tangled snarl of downed trees into a drier forest on the other side of the mountain, eventually finding camp in a tiny meadow near Cecilia Stream. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159397093318910874.post-31047474810711116572016-07-12T21:30:00.000-07:002016-08-20T12:27:35.328-07:00Day 28: La Ventana Mesa to Cuba, NM<div>
The sandstone cliffs of La Ventana Mesa glowed in a ombré of reds and golds. Two wild mustangs disappear like ghosts into the junipers. Deer and elks tracks lead the way down the trail. </div>
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Low on water, we beeline for Jones Canyon Spring while dreaming of cold water, icy Sprite, and other cold beverages. The water seeps from the ground underneath a large sandstone overhang, slowly dripping into a waiting trough at about 5 minutes per liter. Water overflows the full trough, creating a tiny stream for 15 feet before it disappears underground. </div>
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Impatient, we scooped out of the trough where a elk drank only moments before. Hundreds of swallows swoop overhead, then return to mud nests plastered to the shady overhang. We explored the sandstone ruins of a two room structure a few hundred feet away from the spring. </div>
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The trail continued with a series of steep climbs and descents as it followed along the edge of a mesa, dropped into a narrow canyon, then climbed back onto the mesa, only to drop into another canyon. Ladder-like steps carved into the sandstone brought us back up onto the mesa the final time. </div>
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The CDT follows the highway into the town of Cuba, New Mexico. A large vehicle pulled up along the highway ... The Trujillo family, on their way home from swimming. We enjoyed talking with them, and we're happy to have the chance to thank them in person. </div>
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We finished our day with a delicious dinner at El Bruno's Mexican Cafe. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159397093318910874.post-53567143963312607092016-07-11T20:30:00.000-07:002016-08-20T12:26:57.731-07:00Day 27: Bear's Mouth to La Ventana Mesa<div>
The wind storm raged all night. Strong winds buffeted the tent from all directions, covering everything with a thin layer of sand. We slept little, checking our watches frequently to count the hours until daylight. </div>
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We quickly dropped back into the desert, a new, high desert with sculpted sandstone, deep, dry arroyos, hardy junipers, and prolific cacti. Collared lizards sunned themselves on rock cairns, several a bright lemon yellow and one a muted turquoise green. </div>
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With the usual water sources dry, we were excited to discover the first of several water caches left by the Trujillo family. We would pass by two well-stocked water caches over the course of the day, both courtesy of the Trujillo family. </div>
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A coyote casually loped along the trail. We climbed and descended, then climbed some more, ending the day on top of the La Ventana Mesa. The glowing red orb of the sun set to the west, leaving us with a sky full of stars. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159397093318910874.post-59136012474233821312016-07-10T20:30:00.000-07:002016-08-20T12:26:30.815-07:00Day 26: FR 453 to Bear's Mouth<div>
Within two miles we were out of the forest and back on a relatively open range scattered with pinyon pine trees and colorful wildflowers, including deep red Mexican hat, pale lavender lupine, bright red paintbrush, flowering yellow rabbit brush, and flowering yellow cacti ranging from pale pink to dark magenta. Our route followed a seldom traveled dirt road, which meant that water and cold drinks were readily available, courtesy of my father. And it was a good thing because the route was dry and the day was hot. Even my M&Ms, usually impervious to the heat, soon melted into a thick and creamy hot chocolate. </div>
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Just before our route left the road and disappeared into a trail through pinyon forest, we heard a car behind us. Ranger Alvin works for the Mt. Taylor District of the Cibola National Forest, and is a strong supporter of the CDT. He gave us Gatorade and talked to us about future plans for the trail in this area. </div>
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"When will the monsoons start?" is the question on everyone's minds here in New Mexico. New Mexico relies on its monsoon season for a significant portion of its water supply. We experienced a taste of the monsoon season at the end of June and early July, but since then the weather has been hot and dry, and fire danger is high. Ranger Alvin indicated that the monsoons should be back within a few days, and the persistent, strong winds we are experiencing today seem to support this. </div>
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We followed the trail along a ridge, with views of a beautiful valley with wind carved buttes and rock formations. We reached 30 miles for the day as we began to descend, and found a sandy camp amidst the squat junipers and pinyon pines. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159397093318910874.post-587364245601782372016-07-09T20:30:00.000-07:002016-08-20T12:26:07.987-07:00Day 25: Mt. Taylor Trailhead to FR 453<div>
We climbed out of the hot, dry valley through pinyon forest into taller pines, aspen, and scrub oak, trading in the prolific cacti of the lower elevations for pale lavender lupine as we climbed. Beautiful shady trees, tall aspens rustling in the wind, and actual, well-maintained trail made for a great day of hiking. Only the dry pond beds reminded us that we are still passing through very dry country. </div>
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Losing track of the days is common in a long hike. We did not realize that it was Saturday until we met a group of four day hikers out on the trail. Seasoned hikers, they were very knowledgeable about the sections of trail ahead and we enjoyed talking with them. This is day 25, and we have only encountered other hikers on four days thus far. </div>
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Through the trees, we caught occasional glimpses of the grassy summit of Mt. Taylor, over 11,000 feet and the tallest mountain in the immediate area. Some hikers take an alternate or side trip to climb this mountain, and earlier in the season it is usually snow capped. </div>
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We happily meandered through the trees all day, stopping to camp at a hunting camp in the pines. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159397093318910874.post-53946322956781266072016-07-08T20:30:00.000-07:002016-08-20T12:25:30.923-07:00Day 24: Roadwalking Through Grants<div>
With more miles of road walking ahead, we decided to have a relaxed day. We slept in, ate a delicious breakfast at the First Street Cafe (cinnamon roll French toast), and soaked in the pool. Starting a hot roadwalk at noon was admittedly less than ideal, but we considered it a fair trade off. </div>
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And, unlike the roadwalk between Pie Town and the Chain of Craters, this roadwalk took us through town. So we had easy access to cold drinks and could actually stop and eat milkshakes and French fries along the way. Of course, it also took us out of town past two state prisons, but hey, you can't have everything. </div>
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We camped early, ready to head out tomorrow on our hot, dry hike to Cuba, our next resupply town, 100 miles away. There are no natural water sources between here and there. We will be relying on ranching water (generally windmills or troughs) and caches. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159397093318910874.post-85972091478142750372016-07-07T21:30:00.000-07:002016-08-20T12:24:59.497-07:00Day 23: Crater to Grants (Subway)<div>
The Zuni-Acoma Trail is an ancient cairned route across the badlands that connected the Zuni and Acoma pueblos. The route was in use as early as 850 AD. The Continental Divide Trail follows this route through the lava. We had been told to get an early start, as the route is difficult and can take up to eight hours. </div>
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Following the route, we found ourselves constantly torn as to which way to look. We needed to look up to spot the next rock cairn that would safely lead us through the badlands. But we also needed to look down to avoid loose rocks, deep fissures, jumping cholla (I ended up with a segment of cholla deeply embedded in the side of my shoe yesterday), and other hostile desert plants. And we wanted to look around, to take in the badlands, with the interesting patterns and wrinkles in the lava, the hardy plants that seemed to spring out of the rock, and, off in the distance, La Ventana Arch set against a backdrop of sandstone cliffs. </div>
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With their soaps, shampoos, and freshly laundered clothing, we smelled the day hikers before we saw them. The first hikers we've seen since the Gila. And a sure sign that we were almost to the end of the Zuni-Acoma Trail. </div>
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And then we were back on the road, with America's discarded Bud Light bottles, McCafe cups, and Walmart bags lining the highway, even as beautiful as stone cliffs towered above. A shaded sandstone cave, naturally eroded into the cliff wall, provided a cool place to avoid the heat of the day and eat lunch. But our little respite was soon over, and we were back on the road, with the official CDT route following over 20 miles of road into our next resupply, Grants. The roadwalk was uneventful -- at least until we had to quickly jump out of the way of a truck repainting the highway lines. </div>
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After a shower, we ended our day by eating liberal quantities of Surf Shack pizza. Delicious!</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159397093318910874.post-26904495731346515172016-07-06T20:30:00.000-07:002016-08-20T12:24:30.202-07:00Day 22: County Road 42 to Crater Near Mile 522<div>
El Malpais National Conservation Area protects a volcanic area including lava tubes, caves, craters, and lava fields or badlands. Our route took us through El Malpais today. But first, we hiked to the Bandera ice cave, a short side trip just outside El Malpais. Although most of the volcanic features there could also be viewed in the park, the underground cave with a floor of solid ice was interesting. </div>
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Continuing on, we stopped by the ranger station for more information about the trail through the park and some of the local plants and animals we've seen along the way. Beyond the ranger station, our trail passed through tall grasslands shaded by stately Ponderosa pines and squat Pinyons. </div>
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Reaching a "Trail Closed" sign gave us a moment of panic, but a ranger reassured is that the trail had merely been rerouted due to frequent mountain lion sightings. Sierra spotted two pieces of pottery near the new route. We took photographs, but left the pottery there for others to enjoy. </div>
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The trail passed by lava tubes and deep, cool caves. Using headlamps, we climbed down and explored. One of the caves tunneled deeply underground, about the length of a football field. At the back of the cave, we discovered an ancient dried ear of corn left on a natural shelf on the cave wall. </div>
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Traveling over lava rocks is slow. We plodded through several sections of lava as we navigated around numerous craters. Soon our route will join the ancient Zumi-Acoma cairned route across the lava fields. The route is over six miles long, and can take up to eight hours. Knowing we would not be able to complete the route today, we made an early camp on a bed of</div>
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soft pine needles underneath a tall Ponderosa pine on the edge of a large crater. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159397093318910874.post-17818461647436148182016-07-05T21:30:00.000-07:002016-08-20T12:23:58.658-07:00Day 21: Mile 479 to County Road 42<div>
The grassy plains opened before us like the African savanna, the morning light giving the tall grass a golden hue. Jackrabbits and cottontails darted around the plains. A small snake sunned himself on the trail. Sierra picked up a horned toad, then released him back into the wild. </div>
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With limited water sources, we were excited to see a small group of cows trodding a well worn path. In this dry open range, cows usually mean water. Sure enough, I spotted a large tractor tire tank a few hundred yards from the trail. I happily scooped up the green, algae filled water that the cows had been drinking only moments before, grateful for the water. </div>
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We hiked through grassy plains, into Ponderosa and pinyon forests, over dried mud rough with cow prints and rough lava rocks, always following a route well marked with rock cairns, even when there was no trail. </div>
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A huge gopher snake, 4-5 feet long and quite thick, slithered past. He hissed at us before disappearing into a small hole about two feet off the ground in a hollow tree trunk. Late in the afternoon, we spotted a ringtail, a somewhat reclusive relative to raccoons and coatis, who looked like a large cat with a long, thick, striped bottlebrush tail. </div>
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We hiked into the evening. Just as the sun was setting, we heard a familiar voice bellowing up the trail. Grandpa! We knew he was coming out to the trail at some point, but had not expected him so early. Excited, the three of us continued on to the next road crossing and camped together. </div>
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