Day 69: Mt Princeton Hot Springs to Monarch and Back again

Mileage: 30.1 miles (1072.9-1103)

I had set myself up for another long day by staying at the Hot Springs. Veronica, the lady who offered me the ride, and I headed out around 8am towards Monarch Pass. Along the way we made a detour through Salida so she could check out the town. She had been interested in relocating so was checking out different towns in the Arkansas River valley where she might like. She was a massage therapist, so actually had ended up at the hot springs to check it out and see if she'd enjoy working there.

We stopped at a gas station in Salida and I grabbed three breakfast sandwiches out of one of those spinning warming machines - I figured they had to be horrible for me, but I was really hungry and something fatty and salty sounded good. Along the way up Highway 50 back towards Monarch we ran into quite a bit of construction. We both were miffed at how many workers were there and how little work was getting done regrading the road. We also saw some Bighorn Sheep, the first I'd seen on my trip. They were fatter than any sheep I'd ever seen and I mused that they needed to lay off the grass.

Some fat Bighorn Sheep we saw along Highway 50

 We reached the top, a little over 11,000' by around 9am, and I thanked Veronica for the ride and wished her well. She took my picture by the sign, below. I had decided to take the low route (the Colorado Trail, aka Collegiate East), which would take me directly back to Mt. Princeton Hot Springs in about 30 miles. The only problem was I had to walk the road for the first 8 miles because the CT had split off from the CDT a few miles before and continued down a valley to Southeast. The road was narrow and windy, so I was careful to lookout for cars as I walked. I found the best strategy was to walk a little bit in the road as the car approached so they'd give me more room and then step off to the side as they got closer. Otherwise, the cars would take as much room as I gave them and come way to close for comfort.

Monarch was way less snowy and greener than last time around

 After a couple hours going downhill in the hot sun, with the smell of asphalt all around, I finally made it back to the trail. I'd met a biker coming from the East Coast along the way and had contemplated stealing his bike so I could ride it downhill. But then I figured I probably wouldn't be able to balance, so I just settled on taking a selfie with him.

I was glad to finally be back on trail, but it headed straight uphill and the hot sun was still baking my back. The south-facing slope was almost entirely devoid of shade, so the only place to go was up to find some shelter. A few ATV riders passed me on their way down and one older fella said he wished he could do what I was doing. Sometimes I don't know what to say in these instances and can only manage to mumble how lucky I am. What do you tell an older person who wishes they could be young again and do all the things they wish they had? I only hope when I'm older I'm too tired from everything I did when I was young to wish I did it any other way.

I made it up and into the shade of the Cottonwoods by about 1pm. The grade leveled out and I wandered up and down the gentle foothills, which eventually lead to north to the Collegiate Peaks. To the West I could see Mt. Shavano and Tabeguache rising out of hills. After climbing for awhile, I began my descent towards the creek which flowed from the snowmelt off Shavano. At the bottom there was a campground, where I was able to score some drinking water from an older couple from New Mexico. They had been out for a month in their camper and I admired what they were doing. At this point in my life I detest RV's, but I could see when I got older that they'd be a nice way to travel. I would just want a Westphalia though, one that I could park anywhere and not need to be tied to the filthy RV parks, with their gas and electric hookups, like tentacles sucking you back to the very thing you're trying to escape. The couple gave me some fresh cherries as well, which were probably the best thing I'd tasted in weeks.

From the campground I head back up the hill, trying to make good time so I could meet Alex and Margi in Twin Lakes by 8pm. I kept humming along, putting on some music, to pump out the final ten miles. Along the way I met another CDT hiker, whose name I can't recall. He was moving pretty slow, saying he was weighed down from his zero days in Salida. I told him the Mt. Princeton Hot Springs were a good place for a meal. I also told him to sit at the bar after my experience.

The trail was mostly downhill, except at the very end, when it made a surprise 500 ft. ascent up a hill that I thought could have easily been skirted. I ran down the switchbacks, with the white Chalk Cliffs once again looming over me, as they did the night before. I couldn't believe it'd been less than 12 hours since I was last there - my legs and body were telling me it had been much longer. I walked down the road a few more miles back to Mt. Princeton Hot Springs, admiring the beautiful houses and log cabins along the way. I tried to imagine what it'd be like to have a house here, so close to everything wild. Wolves and bears would be as common as raccoons. But so were tourists, and hikers, and bikers, and ATVers, snowmobilers, and the like. You'd have to get used to sharing.

I made it back to the hot springs a little before 7:30pm. I refilled one of my water bottles and rushed up the road to try to get a hitch back towards Twin Lakes. After about 10 minutes a lady who worked at the Hot Springs picked me up and said she could take me north of Buena Vista, just 20 minutes south of Twin Lakes. After she dropped me off I called Alex and Margi and we agreed I'd wait there for them. Without even sticking my thumb out, three hippie girls stopped in their Subaru, headed for Leadville. I hopped in and tried to get ahold of Alex to tell them I'd gotten a ride, but they didn't have service. I told the girls we should be on the lookout for an orange or silver Subaru and they said that could be pretty much anyone in Colorado. Seeing their logic, I asked them to drop me off, and thanked them for stopping.

Right as I got out, Alex and Margi pulled up, nearly whizzing by me before they realized it was me. I got into Margi's new Orange Subaru and we ended up heading south to Buena Vista to grab beer and pizza. I told them stories of the last week and was happy to once again be with old friends. After dinner, which was my treat, I drove us back to Leadville as Margi was too tired and Alex maybe had one too many beers. I avoided hitting a Grey Fox who was standing in the middle of the road and just hoped the deer along the side wouldn't jump in front. Though I wasn't to blame for their other two cars breaking down, I certainly would be here, even if the deer jumped right out in front of me.

Luckily, I got us home safely, and we all fell asleep after another long, but wonderful day.

Day 68: From Cottonwood to Mt Princeton Hot Springs

Mileage: 13.6 miles (1059.3-1072.9)

I spent most of the morning lounging in the hot spring pools reading and just letting my aching muscles absorb the full benefit of the calming waters. It was dangerous because I didn't have to check out until 1pm from the dorm, so I had basically no incentive to set out for the day. On top of that, there was a huge spread for breakfast, which I discovered after bathing for an hour or two. I started with a cup of coffee, bowl of raisin bran, and two bagels with cream cheese.



After that I returned to the dorm, packed my stuff up, and took one last lay on the bed. It was 11am by the time I made my way down to the lobby to return my key. At that point I was getting hungry again so I had another bagel and cream cheese with some instant oatmeal. After downing my second breakfast I head out front to grab a hitch back to the trailhead. A guy from Crested Butte stopped almost immediately in his white van to pick me up. He had a few bikes in the back and had spent the weekend timing bike races near Leadville. He dropped me at the Avalanche Trailhead, where me and Jason had quit the night previous, and I thanked him for stopping.

A great coi pond, my dad would have appreciated at the Hot Springs.

I finally got walking by about 11:30am, with the big puffy clouds already rolling-in, signaling it could rain, hail, or do nothing at any moment. I walked along the valley, assuaging my fear that the trail was going to go straight up the canyon's walls in endless switchbacks as it had done the day's previously. Instead, I roamed through Aspen groves along the river, following the undulating hills, full of the freshly popped King Boletes and various other fungus that I wasn't sure about. The blue and purple hues of the Lupine and Colorado Blue Columbine dotted the meadows, while the mix of Aspen and Douglas Fir provided ample shade. 

I walked for a few hours before the clouds produced the rain they promised. I was winding my way down a 4WD drive road when it really picked up. The skies opened up and the rain started pouring down, seemingly from a single cloud. I ran down the hill and found shelter underneath a porta-pottie entrance. I watched the rain and hail turn the road into a muddy river and could only hope it would stop soon. I was just thankful to have found something to stand under. After about a half hour the rain subsided to a slow drizzle. While I was waiting for it to completely stop a little girl, no more than seven years-old walked up and asked the use the bathroom. I figured that was my signal to leave - if a seven year-old could brave the drizzle, so could I.

I found the drizzle wasn't actually that bad and it basically stopped within a few minutes. I continued down the jeep road, past a horse ranch that doubled as a Young Life Christian retreat center. The red, yellow, purple, and orange of the wildflowers popped brilliantly out of the fields, as if rejuvenated by the passing rain. I had been told by locals that this was the best year for wildflowers they could remember because of all the rain. I was at least thankful for that.

A few miles down the road I reached Mt. Princeton Hot Springs, where I had planned to grab a bite to eat and then continue on my way. I had just been there a few weeks before with Alex and Margi and I figured it'd just be glutinous to stay at a hot spring two nights in a row. Well, so much for that plan. I made friends with the bartender while I sipped my beer and ate my burger and fries. He told me I should just go to reception and tell them I was friends with him and they'd let me go to the hot springs for free. Sure enough, he was right. All I had to say was, "I'm friends with Keith, the bartender!" and the kids manning the desk let me right on in. They didn't check a computer, a list, or anything. So I was at a hot spring for the second night in a row. I had met a lady at the bar who was planning on heading home the next day over Monarch Pass and she offered me a ride that way. 

I figured after soaking I was going to be too tired to keep hiking so I took her up on her offer for the ride. I figured I'd start walking north from there, and connect back with Mt. Princeton Hot Springs the next day, about 30 miles north from Monarch Pass. After that, I'd have completed the walk from Mexico all the way to Tennessee Pass, 8 miles north of Leadville, more than 1,100 miles. We camped a few miles up the road under the stars with the Chalk Cliffs looming over us, illuminated in the moonlight.

Day 67: Last day with Jason into BV and Cottonwood Hot Springs

Mileage: 18.6 miles (1040.7-1059.3)

We got an earlier start by around 7am, but not before having our Mocha coffee which we had discovered the day before by combining two of my coffee with one of his mocha packets. It's really good. We started the day with a steady climb, passing by the trees we had hidden under the night before. The two stakes I thought I'd lost the night before were still laying under it.

Our tent setup under a pine tree

As we ascended, first five hundred and then one thousand feet, we peered down and saw two sets of cliffs rising from the valley below. One was to our North, while the other band lay to the East. Each shimmered beautifully in the morning light, making our effort to scale the mountain worth every ounce of sweat. We ascended through mixed spruce and fir forest, gradually leaving the aspen groves behind as we topped out around 11,000 ft. The night's storms had given way to a completely bluebird day, a little hot for hiking, but definitely better than hail.

Once we gained the ridge, we walked past a few different alpine lakes, still icy from the seemingly endless winter. Native cutthroat trout were feasting on the stoneflies which were emerging from glass-like water. We admired the towering Collegiate Peaks above: Oxford, Belford, and Missouri. As we began our descent the clouds began collecting over us, ominously hanging over us with a faint promise of rain.    

At the bottom of a long series of switchbacks we came to a campground with a river running along side it. We stopped by an RV and a nice couple from the Adirondacks gave us some water, which saved us from having to filter it from the stream. We chatted with them for awhile and were thankful for a respite from the sun in the shade of their camper. We headed over to the stream and across the bridge we sat down in the shade. I was pretty dirty from the past two days of hiking so I stripped down and bathed in the crisp, fast-flowing stream. The water was frigid, having just melted off from the mountain tops 4,000' above. Almost immediately after I started scrubbing, six kids walked up with their grandfather, fishing poles in hand. I crouched down and tried to pretend it was possible I was wearing a bathing suit, but we all knew it wasn't. That fact was that I was exposing myself to a bunch of children under the age of eight, when they were just trying to have a nice afternoon fishing with Grandpa. 

Once they moved up the bank and out of sight, I continued to scrub, and fully submerged myself in the quick flowing stream. Afterwards, I sat in the shade and I cooked up some lunch to prepare for the last climb of the day. Once we went up and down that peak we'd meet Jason's wife, Kat, and go into town for a hot meal.

It was a pretty tough climb and me and Jason ended up ascending different speeds. Jason said it was like the tortoise and the hare - Jason went slow and steady with short breaks, while I went up in quick sprints and lay down in the pine needles napping while Jason walked right by. Only later did Jason tell me he had seriously thought about turning around and calling Kat to pick him up at the last trailhead. I admired that he stuck with it when he really didn't have to. It's one thing for me to hike this stuff after more than two months of walking - but to come from normal life and then put on a 35 lb pack and go 18 miles a day, up and down thousands of feet, isn't easy. On top of that, out of all my friends who've said they'd hike with me, Jason was the first, so I have to give him that!

After a long climb, we reached the top close to 12,000 feet. We had great views, but the clouds that had rolled in earlier were starting to produce thunder near us, so we had to start moving down. I could tell every muscle in Jason's legs were starting to hurt, but he kept moving. On our way down we passed some teenage boys, which I told Jason he should be proud of. Looking down the valley towards Buena Vista we saw lightning bolts striking in the distance. I said we should hurry and Jason said he was going as fast as he could. Realizing my mistake, I didn't suggest we should hurry after that. A mile from the parking lot Jason said he saw Kat pull-in to the trailhead. I was skeptical and said it really could have been anyone, since everyone and their mother has a Subaru in Colorado. He was sure it was Kat.

We reached the trailhead a little bit before 6pm, right before the rain. Jason gave Kat a big hug - he was right about the car - and we made a plan to go into BV for some food and beer. On our way there we saw one of the most vivid rainbows any of us had ever seen. Me and Kat were marveling over it, while Jason was too tired to care. He just said, "Yeah, it's pretty." The purple was so purple and each stripe was so thick, seemingly emerging from a rock outcropping off in the distance.

Jason treated us to dinner which was entirely too kind as he'd already given me such a gift by spending a few days with me in the woods. I had a double veggie burger topped with loads of cheddar cheese and a couple beers to wash it down.

On the way back we passed a sign for Cottonwood Hot Springs and I told them to just leave me there. It was only a few miles from the trailhead, so I figured I could get a hitch back in the morning. It was incredible - the pools were made out of beautiful stonework and they had five, each at varying temperatures, from very cool to almost scalding hot. I settled in the second hottest pool and lounged, soaking my sores away. It was the perfect ending to an almost perfect day. I even had the dorm to myself and the promise of breakfast in the morning. It was a bummer to be going solo again, but I felt really lucky to share the last few days with Jason. I hoped he felt the same.

Day 66: South from Twin Lakes with Jason

Mileage: 18.2 miles (1022.5-1040.7)

We got a late start as some high school kids kept us up for most of the night - at least I hope they were in high school! I was also exhausted from the day previous, so was happy to lay while the morning sun warmed up the tent. I had come to the unfortunate realization that I needed to walk back to where Jason and Kat picked me up at the campground to keep my route continuous from Mexico to Canada, regardless of which direction I was heading. So, I grabbed some empty water bottles, left my pack with Jason and headed back the two miles on the road to the Lakeview campground. It was an easy walk without the pack and I was able to get a quick hitch back down to where Jason and I camped after refilling our bottles at the campsite.

By the time I washed the grime off from the day before and we got all packed up, it was close to 9am. It was fine though since we set out to do less than twenty that day, great to help me recover some. We walked along the Twin Lakes for awhile and crossed over the dam, admiring the views of Mt Elbert, the tallest peak in Colorado, to our south.

It was a beautifully clear day and despite his heavier pack, Jason was keeping a good pace. Before we knew it we'd completed our first five miles and had a nice break for water and snacks. It was cool hiking with Jason, because despite playing ultimate frisbee with him for three or four years, we really didn't know all that much about each other's lives. It's funny how you can spend so much time with someone in a group situation, but when you get out in the woods you're able to get to know someone so much better.

We talked about our childhoods and parents and what it was like growing up in Omaha when we did - Jason is a few years older than me but we share a lot of mutual friends between frisbee and since Omaha is so small.

There was quite a bit of climbing after the initial flat sections and sun beat down hard on us as we ascended the south-facing slopes. We were treated to Colorado Blue Columbine and Wild Roses, interspersed among the Aspen and Douglas Fir groves. The occasional Bolete or Puffball mushroom would pop up in between, as if saying 'hello, don't forget about me!'

We took a lot of breaks as we ascended, which was perfect to give my legs a rest from the day before - I had to remember this was only my second day hiking in the last two weeks, so I did need to take it easy. Jason would take a short break and keep pushing up the hill.

We climbed up and down, up and down, reaching a stream in each valley to replenish our water as needed. Jason was carrying quite a bit of water so we actually didn't even need to fill up too often.

The day pressed on until we reached a beautiful, sprawling valley north of Mt Harvard, and decided it would be a good spot to camp. We saw a few campsites on the north side of the stream, but I always like to cross a river before I camp, just in case it rises overnight or proves difficult. In this case it turned out to be a bad move, as almost immediately after we crossed a downpour came out of nowhere.

We immediately hid underneath two fir trees, which provided surprisingly good shelter. Unfortunately, the rain poured harder and harder until it turned into hail. And then the hail seemed to get bigger and bigger, until it was dime-size at its peak. We cooked our dinner under the trees, trying to avoid being pelted by the hail. After about 45 minutes we were shivering and the storm didn't seem like it was going to pass.

We started jogging in place to keep warm and watched the clouds hopefully. We debated making a break for it back across the river, but noticed the sky lightening slightly. Ten minutes later the rain had subsided to a drizzle and we made our way back across the river to make camp under another fir tree.

We squeezed the tent under the fir and then squeezed ourselves into my tiny tent, happy to finally be somewhere dry and warm. We got our things together for the next morning, shared a bowl, and immediately fell asleep.

Day 65: Heading south out of Leadville

Mileage: 35.2 miles (987.3-1022.5)

** I BROKE 1,000 MILES TODAY, WOOHOO! **

I started the morning in Leadville with a cup of coffee and baked good at the coffee shop. The barista there asked if I was going out for a hike today and I told her I was on the CDT. She said she had thought so because of my beard and plastic baggy wallet, but the laptop I was carrying threw her off. Her name was Trish or Fish and she lived at the hiker hostel in town. She had met Karma a week or two earlier and when I told her I had hiked with him, she said, "wait, are you Lt. Dan?" I guess Karma had told her about me. After I got my coffee I asked them to recommend a baked good and ended up with a very delicious blueberry-crumble muffin on the house. I hadn't hiked a mile in ten days so I felt a little guilty about the free muffin, but I was planning to do thirty five miles that day so I figured I'd take whatever I could get.

Kerry, Alex and Margi's new housemate, had offered to give me a ride up to Tennessee Pass and I gladly accepted. The pass is only 8 miles north of town on Highway 24, but that was much more than I wanted to walk with a big day ahead. I got to the trailhead by 8am, which was complete with a 10th Mountain Division memorial.

The 10th Mountain was a division of the army which trained high up in the Rockies to simulate combat in the Alps during WWII. They were some of the bravest and most badass soldiers, training for months in subzero conditions above 12,000 feet, all for the privilege to fight the Italians and Germans in probably the most brutal theater of the war - if the Nazis didn't get you, perhaps frostbite or hypothermia would. Today, the 10th Mountain Division system of huts provide wonderful retreats in the high mountains, especially in the winter where many use them as base for backcountry ski adventures. 

At the trailhead I ran into my first two Colorado Trail (CT) hikers of the trip, a couple from Denver. The CT goes from Durango to Denver almost 470 miles, congruent with the CDT for at least 200 of those. I wished them luck and set out. From Tennessee Pass the trail wound it's way gently up and down for a few miles until it reached the Holy Cross Wilderness. I was amazed how well the trail was maintained and breezed through the morning, feeling energized to get back on the trail. I ran into two more CT hikers, doubling the number I'd seen. These two had enormous looking packs and I wondered if they had food for all the way to Durango inside.

Motoring along some more I saw a guy about my age headed north. He looked pretty ragged so I assumed he was a CDT hiker. We stopped and chatted and it turned out he was from Austria and had been hiking since Mexico like me. He didn't realize I was also a CDT hiker because I was headed south. He'd also hiked through the San Juan's and we bonded over that suffering. We didn't linger long because the bugs were biting, but said we'd hope to meet again down the trail.

About an hour later I saw another fella heading north. This time it was Lion King, a lean,  shorter guy in his fifties. I had last seen him in Chama - he's the one who'd taken a low route West of the San Juan's with his wife and daughter. We exchanged stories of what'd happened since - he did most of the talking and not much of the listening as that's in his nature. We also said our goodbyes. I didn't know at the time, but these two were just the beginning of twelve CDT hikers I'd see that day - more than I'd seen in the first 1,000 miles combined.

None of the CDT hikers I came upon thought I was also a CDT hiker. It was interesting to see how different hikers reacted and responded to what they assume are day hikers. Some almost gave off a feeling of superiority, while others would pretend I didn't exist. It's funny the social order established on the trail, where only those hiking 3,000+ miles are deserving of respect or even acknowledgment of existence. For those that didn't even say "how are you" I also ignored. I was happy to meet the hikers who did stop and swap stories about the trail. By the end of the day it felt like I must have stopped and talked for close to two hours overall, even though it always seemed we both were in a rush.

There was Lion king, the Austrian kid, Dayman and his two friends, the two guys right after them that they wanted to avoid, the friendly big bearded guy, Hedgehog and his friend, and then another foreigner at end of day who asked me how far the trailhead was. It was kind of neat meeting folks because many of them had followed my blog and Facebook posts, especially when it came to the San Juan's. It was cool to see that me and Karma's trip actually helped others along the way and one group even joked that they'd "finally got to meet a legend!" Which is pretty silly.

Pretty much to a tee they all wondered how I ended up back there, why I was walking south, and where Karma was. In order, I explained I'd taken three weeks off trail in the  last month, that it was just logistically easier for me to walk south from Leadville, and Karma was somewhere near Rocky Mountain National Park. A lot of explaining every time you run into someone in the woods - in fact, I felt mentally exhausted by the end of the day meeting so many other hikers.

I needed to do 35 miles so I could meet my friend Jason, from Omaha, in Twin Lakes. Only in hindsight did I realize I shouldn't have planned so ambitiously for my first day back on trail in nearly two weeks. The first twenty or even twenty-five miles were no problem. There were remnant snow patches here and there, especially on the high, north-facing slopes, but at this point the snow was consolidated and easy to walk over. By mile 30, I was exhausted, and wishing I hadn't promised to meet Jason and his wife Kat at the campsite still four miles away. The real problem was me and Jason were going to share my tent and if I didn't make it, he wouldn't have a place to sleep. 

Totally exhausted I just kept putting one foot in front of the other. As I descended I stumbled through beautiful aspen groves, with the orange and brown heads of King Boletes popping through the duff of the forest floor. If I hadn't been so tired, I would have picked a couple as they are some the most delicious wild mushrooms. The Crimson and Colorado Blue columbine dotted the hillside as the sun was setting, but again I was too tired to appreciate them fully.

With a final few ups, when I should have been going down, I came to the Lakeview Campsite. I thought I'd finally made it. But then there was loop after loop after loop and everyone I asked about how to get to the campground host pointed me in a different direction. I contemplated collapsing at the nearest flat spot, but figured it'd be too hard for me to explain where I was to Jason and Kat. When I finally reached the host's campsite, he informed me it was completely full. I told him I'd walked 35 miles that day. He told me I could walk three more to next closest campground, which he couldn't guarantee wasn't full as well. Luckily, Kat and Jason pulled before I stabbed the dude with my hiking poles. Jason got directions from the guy and we drove to the lakeside campground. It was windy, but we found a flag spot to pitch our tent. I had a bite of cheese and tortilla and went to bed. Kids somehow managed to keep me up partying. I wanted to tell them to "f off" but was too tired. Jason must have thought I was a grumpy zombie.

11 day break for College Reunion

Well, the break came at the perfect time. The combination of snow, hip-deep postholing, and freezing rain was definitely wearing on my spirits.

That said, going to New Hampshire for my five-year reunion proved harder than we ever would have thought. The night Alex and Margi picked me up, Alex's check engine light came on and it turned out that we couldn't get the parts for a few days. We decided our best option was to fly since their only other car was a '99 Subaru which had been deemed a 'town car' after the mechanic said it needed a new clutch a few weeks back. And renting a car would have cost a fortune and been logistically difficult to say the least.

Without much other option, we stretched the idea of 'town' and tried to take Margi's Subaru to the Denver Airport. The good news is it made it most of the way before it broke down six miles from the airport at 4am. I was asleep in the back when it happened and Alex woke me up by saying, "Dan, the car broke down!" Margi hastily corrected him, "No, it's in the process of breaking down." We made it up one last hill before it totally died. We were at Exit 6 on Pena Blvd and only had 75 minutes before our plane took off. Margi called a cab and I called AAA. 

The cab arrived after 20 minutes and we carefully grabbed all of our stuff with the cars whizzing by at 70 mph on both our right and left. Meanwhile, the lady at AAA told me they couldn't come pick up the car since I wasn't the owner. At that point I was pretending to be Alex, since I couldn't find my AAA number, and Massachusetts AAA didn't like the fact that he wasn't the owner for liability reasons.

I started getting pissed and began raising my voice: "So, you're telling me you can't tow my fiancee's car when we have to catch a flight in 45 minutes? Are you kidding me? What's the point of having AAA?" It felt strange saying "my finacee" but I had to for full effect. The AAA lady asked to talk to Margi and somehow this made AAA Massachussetts feel better, and they agreed to tow the car. 

Alex is excited we actually made it to Boston

Once at the airport we rushed through the check bag line and security, finally taking advantage of all the travel I'd done with Growing Cities, we were able to do a lot of cutting with my A-List status on Southwest. We were lucky because there were at least 150 people in each line and the only way we were able to make it was by using the priority lane. Somehow, we made it to the gate 25 minutes before our plane boarded, still in time to get seats together.

Canoeing on the Connecticut River

After a few connections, our friend Katy picked us up in Boston and we grabbed a bite to eat. I saw my brother, Ben, who's living in Cambridge and we met up with my cousin for Chinese food. That night me and my bro watched the first new Orange is the New Black episode together. It was fun catching up with him and seeing how well he was doing in Cambridge. He's a computer whiz and working as an intern for a tech company this summer. He's an intern only in name - they tried to hire him last summer before he went to do his Master's and this summer they are paying him more per hour than I've ever received. By next Fall I'll be the least educated in my immediate family, which is pretty crazy to think about.

The next day, Alex, Margi, and I headed towards Hanover, stopping for a canoe trip along the way on the Connecticut River with one of Margi's friends from high school. It was beautiful on the water and was only made more majestic because we were paddling in handmade wooden canoes.

That night we had dinner at Skunk Hollow, a great little tavern in Vermont, and our friend Marc, who was hosting us all for reunion came over to meet us for some beers. It was wonderful to be in such a familiar place, surrounded by close friends.



That weekend, I ran a lot, laid in the grass, ate tons of good food, drank my favorite beer, too much whisky, and just spent time with some of my best friends. Margi, Alex, and I met up with one of our mentors, Scott Stokoe, the recently retired Farm manager, with whom we'd spent countless hours walking through the woods, weeding the fields, sharing breakfast in the College cafe, and generally scheming how we'd make Dartmouth the most sustainable College on the planet. The last part didn't exactly work out, but with his help we were able to make a lot of changes to the College, that are still around today - things like the Sustainable Living Center, changes to the Freshmen trips program, and more local foods on campus. It was wonderful to sit and chat, telling him about our lives and what we aspired to do. Sometimes you don't realize how much you miss someone until you see them again. Scott was definitely one of those people who shaped my life and taught me things I'll keep with me forever.

The rest of our friends arrived over the next few days - Cody and Katie from Vancouver, Tim from San Francisco, Kerry from Philly, and others I'd forgotten from all over the country. We went to the sauna below Robinson Hall two nights in a row, something I'd never done in College, despite spending almost a year basically living there coordinating the Trips Program. Since none of us had actually 'signed-up' per se, we crashed the reunion gathering, and saw so many friends I would have never otherwise made the effort to see, but was so glad I saw them - all my Ultimate Frisbee friends from Freshman year, like Ben and Jake from NYC, Adam in SF, Robin in Cambridge, and so many more.

My friends Billy and Marc were just about to launch a Kickstarter for their band, Etna Old Time, but when I was asking them about it I realized they hadn't actually made a video, and were just going to post a clip of them playing music. Hearing this, I offered to help them out. By early afternoon the next day, me and Alex had shot the video and then I quickly edited it. It was fun and I was glad to help out two of my best friends. You can check out their Kickstarter and video I made here. 

On our last night all together we went up to the Moosilauke Ravine Lodge and hung out with a bunch of friends. I got to see Maisie, one of my closest friends at the end of College, and also my friend Platz, who has hiked both the Pacific Crest and Appalachian Trail. He advised me to get free pizza in Hanover for thru-hikers (which I did the next day). Being back at the Lodge definitely stirred some good memories and I was so happy I could see one more time before they replaced it in the next few years.

It was a bummer to leave everyone when it was all over, but I was also ready to get back on trail - I'd only completed a third of my journey and was ready to keep moving north towards Canada. On my way back towards Colorado I made a pitstop in Ohio to see my Dad and stepmom. I hung out in there pool and the sauna that I didn't know existed and we took a ride in their boat. It was good to see them and take one final rest before getting back on trail.

Day 64: Slog out to Monarch Pass

Miles: 29.8 miles (957.5-987.3)

The tracks were getting even fresher as I headed off at 4:30am. It was another crystal clear morning and I couldn't believe today was the day I'd be getting off trail for nearly two weeks. But, that was only after I walked nearly 30 miles, including ending the day at over 12,000 feet, where there was bound to be snow. I hiked quickly before dawn to stay warm, knowing the morning sun would come soon to enliven my fingers and toes, which still weren't quite awake and getting the full benefit of warm blood flowing through their tiny veins.

Crossing a soggy meadow after about six miles I ran into a few tents. At first I thought they were large rocks with bright orange lichen on them, and it was only when I got within a few hundred feet that I realized my mistake. It's funny what your brain can fool you into thinking - especially in the morning when more blood is going to the legs than the head. In any case, my suspicion was confirmed, I caught up to them this morning!

I saw two tents that looked just like the one Restless had, but when I called for Restless a few times, there was no answer. I retraced my steps to the first green tarptent and then a woman's voice came out inquiring who was there. She popped her head out and I realized I'd never seen her in my life.  She was a thru-hiker, one of the 'Warrior Hikers', who are veterans that get sponsored to hike the trail. With her was Farmer and Mountain Spice. Farmer was also a warrior hiker who'd I'd never met and he seemed very knowledgeable about the area. We looked at far off peaks and he named them one by one. 

Mountain Spice was one of the first people I met on the trail, along with Karma and Restless at the kickoff party in Silver City. We exchanged stories and I learned they'd all taken the Creede cutoff. The snow conditions had actually worsened somewhat because the melting snow made for unstable conditions and potentially dangerous avalanches. It turned out Karma and I might have hit it at the perfect time - though there was still quite a bit of avalanche danger when we hiked it as well.

They gave me some updates about the trail ahead, including that there was quite a bit of snow near Monarch Pass. I figured it couldn't be anything compared to what I'd already faced. I said my goodbyes and said I'd probably see them all up trail since I was taking some time off.

I had view of Mt Antora as I trekked northward, tracking Restless and whoever else was ahead of me. I kept thinking how strange it was that I'd be in Omaha tomorrow. I kept pushing and hit pretty heavy snow on the north side of the hills. The snowshoes helped some, but half the time I still ended up post-holing up to my knees. I just tried to keep moving, knowing I'd be out soon.

I ran into a runner and his friend near Marshall Pass and they told me Shira, who I'd last seen in Lake City, was just up ahead about two hours, but moving fast. I figured I probably wouldn't catch her in the next ten miles, but it was comforting knowing someone was just ahead. One of the guys gave me an orange and I ate the rest of my tuna and tortillas preparing to make the final ten mile push towards Monarch Pass.

The first few miles up were no problem - snow-free and a pretty gentle grade, it was pretty easy walking - but then the snow patches started filling back in and it the clouds started to darken ominously. I tried to move faster, but the faster I moved the more I postholed, losing precious energy digging myself with each step.

I reached treeline and could see what lay ahead - a snowy trek along the divide with cornices dotting the route, precariously hanging on to the crest - the last thing I wanted to see for the last five miles. Not to mention that the wind was picking up and I was beginning to see lightning strikes off in the distance. I kept following the tracks in the snow, which sometimes was better than blazing my own path, and sometimes just made it easier to fall through. And then there was so much snow, and even more post-holing, up to my waist. It was so crushing to know how close I was to the road and my friends, but that I probably couldn't make more than a mile per hour in the snow.

And then, of course, it started to rain. Hard. The rain and sleet whipped in sideways and stung my cheeks. I had to pull my cap down low in front of my face to avoid the ice from shooting into my eyes and blinding me for a few seconds at a time. I finally reached the crest and began to descend to Monarch. Wherever the snow had melted I broke into a run, or at least my best imitation of a run at that point in the day, hoping I wouldn't make Alex and Margi wait too long at Monarch Pass. It was already 5pm, when I said I'd meet them, and I still had two miles to go. After one last push through the snowy woods, I took my snowshoes off and hit a 4WD road and was able to jog down to the pass. Seeing the old-school gondola at Monarch, I knew I was close, but wish I'd just ridden it down.


I reached the door  of the store and as I opened it, Alex was walking out. I was dripping like a wet dog who had spent all day out in the rain. I asked him to grab my package so I didn't make a mess of the store. Then I realized there was a snack bar and walked in anyways. I had no money so Alex bought me a coffee and nachos. They were so good. When we got in the car Alex said I smelled much worse than a soggy dog, and more like a dead one. Once we were all loaded up, we headed down to Buena Vista and I told them about the last few days of rain and snow. It was so good to be warm and inside their car, knowing I didn't have to go back there for at least ten days. 

At the Eddy Line we split nachos and I had a huge salad with a calzone. I'm embarrased to say I couldn't finish the calzone, but did later that night. After that, we headed over to Mt. Princeton Hot Springs where we soaked for a few hours - the perfect end to a very long day. I slept the whole way back to Leadville.