Day 56 and 57: Double Zero in Lake City

Mileage: Zero

Karma and I slept in some and I did yoga for the first time in months. It was a pretty dreary Saturday but we didn't care as long as we had somewhere dry and warm to sleep - plus our own rooms to boot!

We went over and had breakfast at the local diner - they had small portions and served everything on plastic plates, but the service was good and the waitress kept our coffee warm. I headed over to the post office after breakfast and hung out there until they opened at 11am. Who's ever heard of a post office opening at 11am? Even on a Saturday in a small town?

I ran back to the hostel through the pouring rain in my homemade thong sandals, drenching both my shoes and socks in the process. We sat around Raven's Rest most of the morning, drying things out and doing some light gear repair. Around noon, Lucky walked in and asked us if we would want to go whitewater rafting. He said it wasn't for sure, but we should be ready in an hour if we wanted to go. Sure enough, an hour later he walked in and told us there was room in the boat.

We were headed to the Lake Fork of the Gunnison, or as locals called it, 'the Lake Fork'. It was running high, around 1,200 CFS (Cubic Feet per Second), and had Class III and IV rapids, much more intense than our day trip on the Rio Grande. As we drove north on Highway 149 out of town we saw the Lake Fork on our right and hills full of Purple Lupine and the fiery red spikes of Paintbrush on our left. 

Our guide was Jack, a solidly built man in his 50's, who at first came off a bit gruff, but who clearly knew more about the river and surrounding landscape than almost anyone else around. He'd owned a rafting company in town for nearly ten years before he had to shut down for legal issues with a wealthy private landowner. Our other companions on the trip were Patrick and Eric, a local and his friend from the front range, respectively. Everyone had beards. It was raining steadily as we unloaded and inflated the boat. As I took my turn pumping the air into the raft I realized how out of shape my arms had gotten. I'd pump for thirty seconds before I got tired and had to tag out.

Once we were all set with life jackets and helmets, Jack went into serious mode for the safety talk to scare the crap out of us and make sure we knew what to do in an emergency. My takeaway from the whole thing was don't fall out of the boat because that would suck for everyone, especially you.

We got going down the river and Jack started hollering out commands as practice before the big rapids. 'Right', 'Left', 'All forward', 'Back left', 'Back right!' He told us to dig deep into the water and use our full bodies to paddle - not just our arms. I was seated in the back right near Jack. It was nice because I could ask him about the various plants I was curious about along the way. The Choke Cherry bloomed in umbels resembling white bundles of Lilac from faraway, while the Alder and Aspen filled out the remainder of the banks, with the occasional Spruce or Fir along the way.

We ran rapids with names like 'Peanut Butter Falls', 'Rollercoaster', 'Rattlesnake', and 'Railroad Falls'. In these sections Jack would rumble out commands, roaring double if we didn't paddle to his liking. At Rattlesnake rapid the raft completely filled up with water like a bathtub. We all dug our feet in tight to stay in the boat as it shook in the rapid. Jack deftly guided us in, out, and around the obstacles of rock and log to bring us to safety each time. He would tell us, 'Great job!' after each rapid, but we knew it was Jack who deserved the credit for bringing us out of the depths of the roaring river, nimbly paddling us along.

By the end, we were all totally soaked and shivering from the river water and the rain but this couldn't take the smiles off our faces. My face actually hurt from smiling. I loved feeling the power of the river, but being able to ride on top - gliding over the snow that we had trudged through just yesterday in the San Juan's. After we finished, we loaded the boat and paddles and headed back to town. We all resembled (and smelled like) wet dogs.

Karma and I dried off and ate at the Southern place for the second time in as many days. I had a catfish po' boy once again, this time grilled. It was delicious. Lucky informed us we were invited over for BBQ ribs at Patrick's house. We figured a second dinner sounded great.

Patrick lived just a few blocks away on the Lake Fork. His house was warm from the wood stove and smelled of cooked meat. Two giant racks of ribs slathered in KC Masterpiece laid on the table. The starving Nebraskan in me outruled the principled vegetarian. I had my first ribs in close to ten years. They were amazing - so much salt and fat rushed down into my stomach and up towards my brain. I could only eat two before I started feeling a little sick, but it was worth it. Eric whipped up some crazy mixed drinks and we all sat around the table and talked about Lake City: it's wonderful outdoors opportunities, the Texans, and the crazy religious folks who'd tricked Patrick's daughter to going to a 'volleyball camp with just a little bit of bible study' - apparently  there is no such thing as 'a little but of bible.' 

Jack stopped by and we all were happy to see him. I'd bough him a six-pack after the trip and was happy to see he had a Budweiser in-hand. We all chatted some more until Karma and I couldn't keep our eyes opened. Jack asked if we wanted to raft again the next day, this time on the upper reaches of the Rio Grande. We said we'd sleep on it. Once we got back to Lucky's I immediately fell asleep, the Lake Fork rushing through my dreams.

The next morning we cooked up some breakfast sandwiches - Patrick stopped by early and we agreed to leave for the raft trip around 10am. This time Jack brought his two kids and wife, Leslie. Leslie was also a river guide. They told us today would be a lot calmer than yesterday but still would have some rapids. His kids were adorable and I kept kidding the younger one that we were going to throw him in the river if he didn't paddle hard enough.

We had a great time lazily floating down the river and paddling as Jack commanded. It was all gravy. That was until the clouds descended on our and it began to rain. It was the cold, wet rain that seemed all too common at this time of year in the San Juan's. Almost right as the sky closed up, we saw a logjam ahead. Logs spanned across the entire river, making it impossible for our raft to make it through. The river was still moving fast, so we had act quickly to get over to the respite of an eddy before we hit the logs which would flip our boat against the hard-rushing water.

Jack got us over in plenty of time and we all got out except him and Leslie. They tied a rope to each end of the boat and slowly maneuvered the boat up to the logjam as Patrick held on to the rope to make sure they wouldn't go anywhere too far. Once they made it to the logjam, Jack and Leslie hopped out of the boat into the shallow water and we lifted the boat over the logs. Once on the other side we all got back in and resumed our trip downriver. What could have been potentially disastrous was no problem for Captain Jack and his experience.

As seems to happen to me so often these days, the sun popped out the second we got off river. After all day of freezing rain, it was all of a sudden a beautiful day for our drive back to town. You can't control the weather, but you can complain about it. I had a good conversation with Jack and Leslie on our way back to town and she kept me and the kids well-fed with pop-tarts and chocolate, while Jack gave me beer. It was nice to feel so at home with people I'd just met the day before. 

We got back to Lake City just an hour or two before Laura, my girlfriend, got in from Denver. We shared a beer and some pizza and just enjoyed being with one another for the first time in two months. We went out to the bar and sat by a campfire and listened to a guy playing his guitar with an older Slovakian couple who didn't speak any English. The husband kept bringing logs to the fire, until we had to scoot back to keep our feet from getting burned. It was wonderful to just sit with Laura and chat. We went back to the hostel and fell asleep early, anticipating a big day ahead.

Day 55: Long Day into Lake City

Mileage: 26.3 miles (858.8-885.1)

What a crazy, insanely long day! Writing this after it's all over, I can't believe I had a shower just yesterday morning. We started hiking by 2am hoping to make it to Lake City before the predicted storms rolled through later in the day. The first few miles were still following our mystery snowshoer. It was much easier following his tracks and not having to navigate ourselves. 

After a couple hours, at the turnoff to Cataract Lake, we were speculating on where and when our snowshoer had come from. We guessed he'd left around 8am the morning previous (from how much the snow had melted in his prints) and that he was a thru-hiker (given how much we saw his sneaker prints, rather than snowshoes in the snow ... we figured only a thru-hiker would slog that much). Then, all of a sudden, we heard a disembodied voice say, 'is that you Lt. Dan and Karma?' At first, I thought I imagined it, but then we heard it again and saw a headlamp approaching.

As he got closer, we saw he was a lean, grey-bearded man, probably in his late fifties or early sixties. He said his name was Rick, from Durango. He wasn't a thru-hiker but just out walking for a few days. Then he told us one of the coolest things I'd heard in a long time: that he had been inspired by our adventure from reading our Facebook posts and blog and that's how he'd decided to take his venture into the San Juan's. Now, I'm definitely not writing to inspire others, but it's cool to hear that as an unintended consequence! He even said he had hoped to give us a ride up the pass from Silverton, but we must have missed him by an hour or two. 

As we continued on the sun began to rise and we saw some Elk prancing through the meadows south of Carson Peak. The Alpine phlox dotted the sides of the trail like white clusters of stars. On our way up to Carson Pass, the winds began to pick up and it got cold. Out of nowhere we were on top of the divide in a whiteout. It got pretty nasty, with gusts around 50 mph, so we built a rock wall to block the wind and hunkered down to wait out the storm. Unfortunately, it didn't stop. The wind continued to howl and our feet started to get cold. We could either get in our sleeping bags and pitch our tents or we could keep going. We kept going. We knew there was a Yurt about four miles away, so we would try to get there before we got too cold. The winds were strong and Karma lost water bottles six and seven. I feel like we need to get over/under going for how many he'll lose throughout the trail.

After an incredibly frustrating couple miles of post-holing in snow the consistency of mashed potatoes, we dropped down the to valley with the yurt. Our map said it might be open, so we crossed our fingers and toes as we approached. I got onto the porch, turned the knob, and voila, we were inside! The Colorado Trail friends yurt was complete with a huge wood stove, split wood, cots, and even a propane stove for cooking. I immediately got a fire going and we started drying out our gear. We were completely soaked by the driving wind and rain, so were incredibly relieved to be somewhere warm and dry. We each cooked up some food and then took a nap.  We had already hiked more than seventeen miles and were completely exhausted.

We woke up around 2pm with our usual dilemma: should we stay or should we go? The winds had been howling and the rain hadn't really stopped, but it did look clearer outside, with the mountains across the valley visible. It was only 8 miles to the highway which would take us to Lake City so we decided to set out. Little did we know it would be the worst eight miles of our lives wading though hip-deep snow in snowshoes through freezing rain. 

It started out just fine, with an easy, snow-free climb for about a mile. The weather was cooperating and we even got so hot we had to take off our jackets. Then it started to piss rain. Cold rain. Really hard. The snow was so soggy that we couldn't stay on top. Every step plunged us hip deep into the snow. Sometimes it was every other, but it was miserable for the person breaking trail. Following wasn't so bad, besides the fact that you generated less heat so the wet, cold rain was able to seep into your veins and give you a chill that was nearly impossible to shake. We came to a steep slope and were forced to slide down the only part where there wasn't an overhanging cornice. Karma slid first and got up hollering for me to also slide down: it was the easiest quarter mile of the day.

We knew we only had to get a little over five miles from the hut before we started descending to Highway 149. Knowing this almost made it worse. Every step felt like wading through semi-frozen mashed potatoes: so wet and heavy, impossibly sticking to the top and bottom of our snowshoes.

Karma started yelling and screaming and kicking at the snow. He told me he could no longer feel his toes and that he'd just peed on them, but still didn't feel anything. I said we needed to keep moving and get lower down where there wasn't snow so our feet would warm up. I was also really cold and stripped off my wet raincoat to put on my down jacket. In the process, I had to take off my thin running gloves, which were icy and sopping wet anyways. My hands immediately were freezing. I had to pee, so I peed on them. The urine was much hotter than I expected and it stung my hands. The feeling of being too cold and warming too quickly is more painful than the cold itself. The heat was short-lived and I had to move quickly to catch-up to Karma. The freezing rain whipped and stung my face. When I put my down jacket on I also wrapped my Cuben Fiber ground cloth around me to stay warm. Once again, I must have looked like a madman.

After climbing two hills that shouldn't have been there according to the topos, we finally began to descend. We were following a road that also wasn't on the map that slowly had less and less snow until finally we walked on dirt and mud. The wet snow of the alpine environment gave way to a green and verdant valley, where you'd never know it was total winter less than a mile away. 

I jogged the last mile after Karma told me how close we were. The sight of Lucky's truck in the parking lot at the trailhead was one of the most welcome in the last two months. He was excited to see us and said the first ones through the San Juan's were always pretty frazzled like us. Last year, he said it was a German mountain guide who had spent a lot of time in the Alps. Upon meeting Lucky, he said, 'it's a crazy death trap out there" unlike anything he'd ever experienced.

Lucky's truck was warm and we were incredibly grateful for the sense of normalcy he immediately brought. He started telling us about the town and the surround peaks. He asked if we'd seen any moose and we said it was probably still too cold and snow covered up there. About five minutes later we saw a woman stopped in road with her arm hanging out. She didn't have any hazards on so we wondered what was going on. We looked to the left and there was a cow moose and two mooselings (I know, calves, but I like mooselings better). I'd never seen a baby moose in all my years in New Hampshire. I was glad we were in the car. They were just grazing in a little bog, oblivious to our prying eyes

When we arrived at Lucky's hostel, the Raven's Rest, we were amazed. It was a beautiful converted garage, complete with a kitchen, lounge, four showers, two bathrooms, and two bedrooms. Me and Karma had our own room! When I got in the shower I couldn't believe it had only been yesterday when I last showered. It felt like a week. After warming up, we went over to Southern Vittles and I got a catfish poboy, French fries, hushpuppies, a beer, and cherry pie. Sleepy and satisfied we both went to bed thankful to be somewhere dry and warm.

Day 54: Off towards Lake City

Mileage: 9.4 miles (849.4-858.8)

We got an early start from Ricky's cabin in Durango around 7am and headed over to the Budget Inn to grab Karma after saying goodbye to the five poodles. McStuffins was my favorite lady - his roommates keep them for breeding and sell the puppies for $500 a pop. I'm in the wrong business apparentally.

Karma wasn't quite ready when we arrived so me and Ricky got some coffee. I got the best cappuccino I've had on trail. They even asked if I wanted it wet or dry. Karma came over to grab some coffee and asked Ricky if the car was unlocked. I was surprised he remembered which car was Ricky's, but let it pass. When me and Ricky walked outside Karma had his stuff inside a brand new, light-grey Subaru Forester. Ricky has a fifteen year-old dark blue Volvo. We laughed and Karma quickly got his stuff out of the car. He told us later there was a dog in the front seat - talk about worst guard dog ever! Almost 100% of the time it's bad news if a dirty guy with a Santa Claus beard enters your vehicle. Maybe the dog had good manners.

After Karma grabbed his coffee, we all hopped back in the car and  started the ascent towards Molas Pass and Silverton. The Aspens were a vibrant green down below 11,000 ft. It seemed to be full summer if you ignored the peaks capped with snow. Apparently the road we were on was named  the most dangerous in the country earlier this year. Luckily, it was clear of ice and snow. Otherwise, the precipitous drops on each side would have scared me much more.

Once we got to Silverton we headed over to the Avalanche Cafe at the suggestion of one of Karma's friends. I got a breakfast pizza and a breakfast burrito. The guy next to us also gave me the leftovers of more than half his burrito to take on the road, which was delicious later in the day, despite having the green chile having spilled on my backpack.

I sadly said goodbye to Ricky and hoped to see him up in Leadville or somewhere down the road. We got two quick hitches out of Silverton, the second of which with the County Commisioner who confided he 'might do some shrooms later.' We took nap at intersection where the road goes to Stony Pass, sure someone would take us the rest of the way. 

About fifteen damn ATVers passed - some even with empty seats - and none of them would pick us up. It was the same routine over and over: Karma would hear a motor droning in the distance, wake me up with a start, and then we'd stick our thumbs out only for the ATVers to speed up as soon as they got near us. We decided they were all from Texas and we hated them.

We decided to hoof it up the 2,500' and after about a mile and a half of climbing, we saw a Jeep and a Forerunner creeping up the hill. The guys in the Jeep said they didn't have room, but their brother behind might. The brother in the Forerunner said the same thing. He had two big Pitbulls in the back, as well as another dog. I blurted out that 'I loved dogs' and would be happy to sit with them. As I went to pet one of the pitbulls, she bared her teeth and growled at me. Just as he was about to pull away we made one final plea, including something about walking from Mexico, until they finally let us get in. The passenger, a slim blonde girl in her 20's, got in the back and me and Karma piled in front. We learned they were from Texas and were driving 4WD roads for the next month. The driver, a younger guy with long brown dreadlocks, was impressed that we had been walking in so much snow and we were jealous they could drive up all these hills. At the top, they filled our water bottles and said goodbye, not before I gave them my blog address. Not everyone from Texas is so bad after all ... sorry Texans, I'm still scarred from all them years of the Longhorns spanking us Cornhuskers in football. 

The hiking was great, with the snow having receded quite a bit. We could even walk on top without snowshoes until about 3pm. We were still mostly walking on snow, but just with more bare patches than before, especially on the southern slopes. The black heads of mountains peaked out from the blanket of snow and the rock cairns were much more visible, making it easier to navigate. Another set of lone footprints and eventually snowshoes also blazed the way. We wondered if some intrepid CDT hiker had caught up to us with all the zero days we'd taken over the last few weeks (I just calculated and I've taken almost two weeks of zero days, woah!) 

The hiker was our mystery to solve for tomorrow. We camped at 12,600' on a flat spot on top of a hill. We hit the highest point on the Colorado trail at over 13,000' within ten miles the next morning. We have an early wakeup tomorrow at one-thirty so we can walk on top.

Day 52 and 53: Double Zero in Durango

Mileage: Zero!

I woke up pretty early and talked some with my mom. It was nice to catch-up some and hear about her trip to England with her friend Trisha. Around 7:30 Ricky came down and suggested we go out to breakfast. As we walked down Main St. he veered into the very same place, Carver Brewing, Karma and I went for beers the night before. Of course, the same waitress walked up to take our order and recognized me. I got a bagel with lox (my first on the trip!) and it was really fantastic. Me and Ricky lingered over coffee and he didn't get to work until close to ten. It was really nice to be able to spend time just sitting around and catching up with a close friend. It felt so familiar, which I think is one of the things I miss most about being at home - the routines, the people, and the places which weave their way into your everyday life until they become a part of who you are. It's only when they are gone that you realize you're missing landmarks that remind you who you are.

After breakfast, I walked up the Animas River towards the library the smell of spring floated through the air. At 6,500 ft Durango was in full bloom with blazing orange poppies, Crimson columbine, blue and purple Iris, and much more. Rafts and kayaks swept past on the water and the occasional shriek of a young rafter reached my ears. I entered a different world when I got to the library, from one of every natural sight, smell, and sound to the sterility and quiet of the modern, concrete building with computers and books all around. I took care of a few emails and caught up some with friends.

I also read letters from Laura and Ali (my housemate for two years), and it really made me miss home. Laura made a beautiful watercolor of a cactus for me, which I want to keep but am afraid it will get ruined so I'll probably send it home. About 1pm I headed back to town and had an awesome Tibetan/Nepalese lunch buffet with Ricky. I started with an enormous plate of salad and then followed it up with two heaping plates of rice, naan, catfish curry, vegetable tempura, lentil soup, and vegetable coconut curry. Every dish was thoughtfully spiced and incredibly delicious. I also might have been hungry. Again, it was great catching up and hearing about Ricky's thoughts and future plans over chai tea. I realized we both had been seriously thinking about a NOLS (National Outdoor Leadership School) course and have very similar values when it comes to teaching with the outdoors. It's funny how a place affects your conversation - in two years living together in Omaha, somehow we had never talked about something that was very close to both of our hearts. 

I spent the rest of the afternoon in a coffee shop before we headed over to the hot springs after Ricky got off work. We soaked in the hottest pool they had for over an hour and chatted about Turkey, where he had lived for six months and where I had just visited during my time in the Middle East. We also talked about Egypt, our travels there, and how horrible the current situation is under military rule. We admired the beautiful flowers along the springs and finished with a sauna as the sun set.

For dinner we made a feast with tons of veggies and other ingredients from Natural Grocer. We had Spaghetti with Eggplant and Italian Seitan, salad, and a garlic baguette. To finish the night we Skyped with aome of our best friends back in Omaha, Todd and Chelsea, which was awesome. They were an hour late to our Skype date - I had guessed it was because they were at the Homie - I'm not sure that was right, but I'm pretty sure there was drinking involved. Todd proclaimed he was 'my biggest fan' and reads every blog. Again, I was reminded of home and tried to convince them to come out and walk with me. 

The next morning I woke up to Tomagomaki - a thin Japanese egg roll-up that Ricky is especially good at making - with salad. I went back to library and finished blogs and transferred pictures. We had Thai for lunch (it was no Salween) and then went to coffee shop and had a mocha and took a nap. We finished the afternoon with some bouldering at Dalla mountain park where I demonstrated how completely out of climbing shape one can be despite walking 14 hours a day for two months. We still had a good time and I took pictures of Ricky doing some crazy ape shit. I had him take a picture of me that made me look badass.

We headed back and had leftovers and talked. We finished the night with some very underrated Three Twins Chocolate peanut buttercup ice cream and went to bed earlier than we had been so we could get early start in the morning. The next day we were headed to Silverton and back to the trail.

Day 51: To Stony Pass, Silverton, and Durango

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.

Day 50: Fourth Day High in the Weminuche

Mileage: 20.4 miles (813.1-833.5)

We started at 2:30 this morning. The walking was so much better before sunrise because we didn't break through the crust and we wanted to take full advantage. After about an hour of following Karma without being able to see my feet, I decided to change my headlamp batteries. The light had steadily been getting dimmer and dimmer for weeks but I chose to ignore that as long as I could. As soon as I changed the batteries, I could see again and it was amazing. It's nuts what you can get used to. 

A little down the trail we came to a pretty deep and wide stream which could neither be hopped across or waded through without going knee-deep. We saw two logs along the river and decided to make our own bridge. The first log we tried throwing across just floated away, but the second and third stayed in place, making a perfect bridge.

As we began to climb out of the valley we heard the alarm call of the Ptarmigan, which sounds almost like a squealing guinea pig mixed with a parrot. Not exactly the most pleasant way to greet the morning, but this is nesting time for them, and I imagine they are protecting their young. The sun peaked out above Pyramid Peak and we saw the Window around the corner. It's a sheer wall with the middle cut out, giving the rock formation it's namesake. Some folks walk through it, but we just followed the trail, not wanting to add anything extra to our journey at the moment.

After we got up the pass, we saw five elk about 200 ft below us. They were post-holing worse than we were. I felt bad for them and saw blood in the tracks for the second time in as many days. The ice is sharp and I know without pants I'd be bleeding too.

From the pass, Karma suggested we take a shortcut which looked good on the map, but after an hour or sow turned into post-hole hell - in snowshoes. At the bottom of the last hill we ran into a few cliffs on the backside and had to skirt around each one. We took anout an hour break around ten, both cooking a hot meal and drying out our gear. I promptly fell asleep even after having some coffee. After I woke up it was hard to start walking again, but we managed six more miles, including two pretty big climbs. By the time we hit Nebo Pass, we both were falling asleep on our feet - literally walking with our eyes closed, only opening them to make sure we were on the right track.

We spotted the huge, sheer, jagged peaks that had risen in the distance a few days ago and wondered what the heck they were. I had figured I'd never find out, just to realize today they we were getting closer and closer until we finally hit them. They had names like Silex Peak, Needle Peak Nine, and Storm King. Since they are all just under 14,000 ft (there are tons of people who try to climb all the 14'ers), I doubt anyone has climbed these peaks in ages. They are so sheer, you'd definitely need a rope and some serious climbing gear. We decided to camp under them.

We crossed one more pass and were amazed by the end of the day that we'd done more than 20 miles. We should have been getting up at 2am every day. We had a beautiful campsite under Mt. Nebo and the Needle peaks. I was asleep by 6:30pm.

For Hikers: May in the San Juan's

So we just got into Silverton and finished most of the San Juan's and here are some things to keep in mind before you do the route early season...

1) Hike before sunrise. by the end of the section we were waking up at 1am to get started before sunrise. you can make big miles without a whole lot of effort before about 9am. afterwards it's a slog. if you want to do 20+ mile days, start early.

2) Gear. at this point snowshoes and ice axe are really good to have. The ice axe is 100% essential about 2% of the time when you end up on an steep, icy slope or for glissading. snowshoes allow you to trudge through the afternoon snow melt, which is nice. we didn't run into any big pitches of ice, just crunchy snow so we left the microspikes at home. 

3) Avalanche conditions. are still very bad, especially in afternoons on slopes with wet snow. be careful, we saw and caused a few minor slides. you'll hear a lot of whooping. this is snow settling and is a sign of high avalanche danger.

4) Follow the divide if you can, even if the trail doesn't. it takes more work to get up there, but there's not as much snow and it's crustier and easier to walk on than in the bowls where the trail often goes. some of the bowls also have high avalanche danger, so ridge is actually safer too. that said, check the topos carefully and don't be afraid to go back the way you came if the route looks beyond your ability. we ended up on a couple knife edge ridges and had to descend very steep slopes.

5) Go with a friend or two. breaking trail alone sucks and in these conditions it isn't exactly safe because of the avalanche risk

6) There's no substitute for experience. if you haven't done much snow travel, backcountry skiing, or winter hiking this route could be really dangerous. reading slopes and avalanche conditions is something you learn and mistakes can be very costly.

7) Campsites. you'll probably have to camp on snow. some spruce boughs can help keep you warm if you don't have a good sleeping pad. otherwise, look for trees on sunny slopes and they'll often be a bare patch of ground to camp on. it's tempting to camp as low as you can, but the cold settles in valleys at night so try to find a higher, sheltered camp spot if you can

8) It's extremely beautiful. this is last because you should read the rest first. people will tell you to 'enjoy the San Juan's in the summer when it's beautiful' but there are very few people who see the San Juan's like this. there are stunning views of jagged, snow-capped peaks around every bend, great animal tracking, and some of the most epic campsites you'll ever get. now go back and read the rest.

in the end, you have to do what feels right for you. and remember, weather and snow conditions are changing constantly so your experience will be different from mine. the past two weeks of hiking have been some of the most exhausting of my life. but also probably the most epic and beautiful. if you have any questions feel free to send me a message and I'll try to help if I can

...bonus tip: it's super easy to get really sunburnt. cover up as much as you can and what you can't, use sunscreen. especially bottom of your nose and lips. glacier glasses are also really nice for the eyes.