Mileage: 15.9 miles (833.5-849.4)
We had a 1:15am wakeup. Dark clouds looming gave way to lightning striking above the jagged peaks just a few miles to our West. Trying to take another shortcut, Karma lost another water bottle (number five?) sliding down a steep slope above me. I got a little angry and told him he really shouldn't be glissading down slopes in the dark, especially when I was right below him. His water bottle had whizzed by just five feet away from me. And then he lost his other bottle later that morning, when to squall hit us full-on. We could both sense that we were getting on each other's nerves. We were each spent from six days out in the woods and our patience for one another was waning. I told him it didn't really matter if we were sick of each other, we had to stay together and not do anything stupid, especially in the dark. After that, I gave him some space and started singing Bobby D and Bob Marley to keep my spirits up. That led to N 'sync, the Backstreet Boys, and other bad 90's pop. It kept me going, no matter how ridiculous the combination of tunes was.
The clouds moved our way and all of a sudden there was a full-fledged blizzard. It was eerie seeing the sunrise off to our East with the storm bearing down on top of us from the West. We got split up for a second as we tried to descend out of the wind off a ridge. I overcompensated to the right, while Karma went a little too far left. As I climbed back towards the trail I spotted a Grey fox no more than 100 yards away. I knew Karma was probably waiting, but I had to take a moment to watch this beautiful creature in it's natural habitat. He quickly saw me and scampered away, but not before I had a good look at him, trying to cement his shadowy image forever into my brain. I didn't want to forget the power of the fox, who showed up at the very moment I needed a guiding light back towards the trail.
We pushed on straight up the switchbacks that led to Stony Pass. Of course, the clouds began to part and blue sky showed as soon as we got within sight of the dirt road. We took a few pictures and worked our way down. Once we reached the road, we unfathomably found it plowed with 8' high drifts. Who the hell was going to drive up here at this time of year? And who was paying to plow it?
As we worked our way down, we didn't care who or why, we were just glad to have dirt to walk on. Nonetheless, we got our answer about half way down, when an older fellow in a cowboy hat pulled up in his truck. He told us he was the guy who plowed it and he'd been doing it for 25 years. He doesn't have a GPS or any other way to tell where the road was. He just did it 'by feel.' We got his number, hopeful he'd be able to give us a ride back up later in the week - only a behemoth truck like his could make it up that road.
As we headed further down, we came to One hundred mine - a mining museum which actually let you ride a rail car into the mine shaft, deep into the mountain, hard hat and all. We talked to the proprietors and each bought a Mtn dew and some postcards. We bid farewell and were down at the paved road about thirty minutes later. I was thankful because my Achilles' tendons had started to bother me - the boots were rubbing on them constantly with their high-tops, especially as we went downhill.
The first car that passed - an old blue Subaru - stopped to pick us up. Right as we were gettig in, a cop stopped and told us, 'to get out of the middle of the road.' There weren't any cars for miles so we just laughed and wondered if he was new.
We got dropped off at a diner and I ate juevos rancheros and had lots of coffee. We stopped by the post office so I could get rid of my boots and ice axe (I had shoes in my package) and then hitched over to Durango. This time we got picked up by the second car - sometimes you have good luck. Going down to meet Ricky, my old roommate from Omaha, I slept in the car while Karma talked to our driver, who worked for an oil-company fracking. I figured if you didn't have something nice to say, don't say it at all. In Durango we ate more food and drank beer, desperately wanting to take a shower, but patiently waiting for Ricky to get back from climbing.
He got back around 7pm with some climbing buddies from Omaha. Karma got a hotel room as we needed space after so many days together. We ate delicious pizza and I made them all laugh with stories from the trail. It was a good time and made me forget all the tough days I'd just gone through in the snow. I was thoroughly exhausted, but it made me talk more than ever. I was hungry for human interaction. They laughed at things I wasn't even trying to make funny. I like to make people laugh.
Went back to Ricky's cabin ten miles outside Durango and I slept in the basement - a wonderful sleep at 7,500 ft, nearly 5,000 ft lower than what I'd slept at the night before, below the jagged Needle peaks. They seemed 1,000 miles away.
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