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 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.