Mileage: 10 miles (1211.7-1221.7)
Yuck. A day where it pretty much rained the whole day. From when I walked out of the hotel to when I was setting up my tent at night. From when I walked out of the coffee shop, to when I got out of the car at Berthoud Pass. Drizzle. Rain. Downpour. Drizzle, Rain, Downpour. Thunderclap, boom, the rain doesn't stop.
It hasn't stopped for a month and it's taking it's toll on me a bit. When you're soggy at all times and your tent is always wet and you have to be incredibly careful with your down sleeping bag and jacket it makes everything really hard. Every little thing I do, from setting up my tent to opening my backpack for a snack, I have to be careful and it's exhausting. It's grey a lot. And the ridges are dangerous because there's always a chance of lightning. You have to plan your days to be on the ridges at the right time, but often the time you think will be right isn't. If this sounds like complaining, it isn't - or maybe it is - but it's just the reality of everyday life right now.
Of course, when it does stop for moments and the mountains peak out, I guess I appreciate it more. And, of course, the wildflowers are incredible because of the rain. "Better than I've ever seen," according to some Coloradans I've talked to. Yet, sometimes it's hard to look on the bright side when all you see is grey.
To start the morning I learned the hotel wasn't serving breakfast, I had to check out in 45 minutes, and there was no shuttle to downtown Winter Park, which was where all the food and other town services were. The front desk guy said I could cross the highway to the Resort and might find something open there.
I Yelped it and found a cafe not far. I checked out before I left, not wanting to have to find my way back there. Somehow I spent $16 on a burrito and a cinnamon roll, another reason I wanted to go to town. But it was raining, and the tourists weren't obliging to hitchhikers. The warm cinnamon roll was really good so I'm going to try and forget the money.
I talked to Laura for a bit at the cafe but the signal was terrible and I dropped the call twice. It's been nearly impossible to stay in touch with each of us in remote areas for days at a time and that has also taken it's toll on me. Of course, the second I went to leave the cafe it began to rain. Laura suggested I get rain pants to make my life better and I thought that was a good idea.
I went to the Columbia store at the resort and they didn't have any. As I was asking the clerk about other used gear shops and how to get to them (I would have to walk two miles along the busy highway), a nice older man with his wife and grandson offered me a ride. It turned out he was a Nebraskan (thank you Nebraska) from a small town south of Lincoln. Him and his wife had taught at the public high school together for 30 years before retiring, taking kids from the school on trips to Yellowstone and skiing in Colorado. He took me downtown and I gave him my sincere thanks. Almost every single day I have reason to be thankful for the kindness of others - though I sometimes wish there were more people like this man, I'm happy there are folks like him out there.
The first consignment shop I went into I found a pair of rain pants (Columbia, coincidentally) for $16, and they even fit me perfectly. I got them and then tried hitching back towards the Resort and Berthoud Pass to get back on trail. It was really raining now and people hate picking up hitchhikers in the rain. It's astronomically easier on a clear, sunny day to get a ride, which is ironic because you need the ride so much more when it's pouring out. Finally, I asked a guy in a hotel parking lot for a ride and he obliged about half way to where he had to turn off. I walked most of the rest of the way to the resort before another guy picked me up for the last quarter mile. I rode the gondola to the upper Resort where the last road turned off before Berthoud Pass - I figured this was the best place to hitch since everyone headed my way would be going past where I needed to go.
It was still raining and cars sped by splashing water on me as they went - Texans, Californians, Coloradans - no one wanted to stop. I wondered if I had skis if someone would have pulled over. Finally, a woman with her mother and son, waved over to me to hop in. I thanked them profusely and enjoyed the heat on the 14 miles up to the pass.
Once on top I jumped in the warming hut hoping the rain would subside. It did eventually get down to a drizzle and I figured it was now or never. I walked uphill to top Mt Flora at 13,100 ft. The winds howled and rain spit sideways as I ascended the ridge. Finally, I got to the top and it actually cleared up a tiny bit for a few minutes - I even saw a small patch of blue between the clouds. I descended into James Peak Wilderness all the way to 10,100 ft. The trail was very faint at times, and I had to look for flat rocks that were put next to each other and then faint paths through the grass and dirt. It switchbacked endlessly until I got down to the valley.
Once I started climbing again it almost immediately started to rain and then pour. It was nearly six so I figured it was time to setup camp, rather than get soaked. I ate my half-cooked Mac n' cheese that I'd made in the rain, only saved by the flaming hot Cheetos I added on top. I wrote and will go to sleep early, hopefully starting early before the rain tomorrow to get over the final 13,000 ft peak of the trail and begin the descent to Rocky Mountain National park.
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