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On round three of what’s become a multi-year section hike, I set out to complete the Collegiate section of the Colorado Trail. The section is unique in that there are two ways to complete it, a west high route and an east lower route. Both have their benefits and challenges. The west you stay higher, the scenery is better but getting to town is harder and snow lingers late into the spring. The east is lower, there’s somewhat larger climbs in and out of valleys but the snow is gone early in the season and rides to town are often and simple. My friend Daniel had agreed to come out to Colorado after his spring PhD exams for a little break and although it was still early in the season we opted to give the west route a go. I had some hesitation about it, worried about snow still lingering and the jump to 12,500’ on day one but we went for it. The day was warm but a gentle walk uphill from Twin Lakes where I had completed my 2024 journey was nice and easy. Some trail runners had told us that the snow was mostly melted up on Hope Pass so we looked forward to clear trail to the top. We began the climb up Hope Pass still full of energy but also heavy with 3 days of food, the climb was long and slow. Near 11,800’ we sat and took a break, and both felt tired and a little dizzy. The top wasn’t far, so we gathered ourselves and pushed on.
Near the top I found a trickle of water coming off a snow patch and filled my bottle while I waited for Daniel to get to the top a few switchbacks behind me. As I drank and stood trying to catch my breath, stars started to swim in my vision, and I swayed, the altitude was hitting a bit. Daniel reached the top, we got him some water from the snow and quickly headed down the south side of the pass, luckily snow free. Daniel felt the same, dizzy, a little nausea, a sure sign we were both having a bought of altitude sickness from pushing hard on day one. Once we got down 500’ Daniel felt better but every time I stopped my vision started to swim again and I stumbled on the verge of passing out. We were both tired from the hard climb but the only thing we could do was keep going down until I started to feel better. We cleared 11,000’ and I still felt unsteady. Near 10,500’, I felt like I could catch my breath finally but was still wobbly. Once we got under 10,000’, I finally felt like I had control back. I could breathe, I was steady, whatever had happened had stopped.
Our original agenda had had us going farther on day one and potentially doing a 14er the next day, that was out the window. I was worried about the same thing happening again if we continued over Lake Ann Pass at 12,500’ and we were both tired from that first push. We opted to flip to the east route having also heard there was still a bit of snow on Lake Ann Pass. We figured the lower elevation, and the certainty of no snow was a better option than taking the risk of staying high. So, the morning of day two, we caught a hitch and flipped down to the east Collegiate route. Our goal was to get to the Harvard Lakes and enjoy an afternoon of recovery. Luckily day 2 went swimmingly (literally) and we got to the lakes. We camped by Elk Lake, the larger of the two lakes. Someone had hauled a canoe up to the lake, so I got a chance to paddle around, and we both took a good swim/trail bath in the lake. We lounged in the sun and read books as the late afternoon turned to dusk. The amber sunset settled across the lake as dusk fell and we dozed off into a restful sleep.
Day 3 we had our last “pass” up near 11,900’, we both had a little hesitation, but we took it slowly. We’d planned for this day to be a little treat; we’d booked a night at the Cottonwood Hot Springs. A long shower, a night in a bed and a good soak in the hot geothermal pools would push us through the rest of the hike. The pass went slowly but came easily, we both felt recovered and acclimated and enjoyed the day. The downhill was long but a trip to town for food and a cozy night awaited. Once we got to the road, we got lucky, and a hitch came quick. A CDT hiker who had been nearby joined us and we happily headed into Buena Vista. The first visit was the K’s Dairy Delite for some shakes and burgers before a quick resupply at City Market and a hitch back to Cottonwood Hot Springs. Our hitching luck so far had been impeccable…. All good people, wanting to share stories, all quick rides. The night in the hot springs was one of the most enjoyable of the journey. Even though it was a short trip, this little hotel stay made it feel like a true vacation for me. I remember on the PCT we took few breaks but the ones we did take I enjoyed thoroughly; this was no different. Some chicken tenders and mozzarella sticks for dinner, real food compared to ramen and instant potatoes and a hot shower made me ready for the final three days ahead.
We’d gone up Cottonwood Pass when we flipped to the east route to see what trail conditions were like south of there on the west route in case we wanted to flip back up later once we’d acclimated. I hiked about a mile up trail and what I saw was sketchy snow fields and deep post holes. The first (maybe) mile took me 20 minutes fumbling around in the snow and once I got to a steep field and a large cornice, I knew this would not be the year for doing the West Collegiate Route, that would have to save itself for another time. We stuck to the east trail, and it was enjoyable. We got another little treat with a hitch on the road walking section day 4 to the Princeton Hot Springs Convenience Store for a sweet treat and a soda before a couple miles more of walking along the road to a nice campsite along Chalk Creek. It was a shorter day, so we spent a lot of time sitting by the creek reading in the afternoon. I felt like I was finally hitting my groove as we got into the week but unfortunately, we only had two days left to hike.
In the evening, we had several CDT hikers wander into camp, they were fun to talk with, a few working on completing their triple crown so we shared PCT stories. As always, as the sun set, so did we. The next day, they were gone by 6am and we snoozed until near 7:30. The climb for the day was in the morning and nice and short. We quickly started passing other CDT hikers heading north and then didn’t see another one for the rest of the day, the little bubble had passed. I think the 5th day was my favorite, I had fallen into my hiking groove, the miles came easy, and I was enjoying the simplicity of the trail. I wasn’t thinking about what day it was, wasn’t thinking about what awaited at home, I was just thinking about walking on my line in the dirt and enjoying the views and the changing forest. The day varied wildly below tree line, we started in a forest of Pinyons before climbing into the typical Colorado Lodgepoles, for a while we traverse through patches of Cedars before crossing into an area full of beetle kill trees. The final section of the day was some of the tallest and thickest Aspens I’ve ever seen. They towered and made it feel like we were somewhere else entirely than the mountains of Colorado. For a tunnel of trees, it was quite the tunnel… We got lucky yet again and the host at the Angel of Shavano Campground allowed us to camp for free. We got an easy tent pad with a picnic table, a metal fire pit, and even pumped water, true amenities compared to sitting in the dirt squeezing a water filter. There was access to one of the many branches of the Arkansas River from the campground and we got a chance to wash up and soak tired feet. As the evening set it, we had our only fire of the trip and ate the rest of the food we had left, even grilling some tuna wraps over the fire.
The final day came and went quickly. We only had 5 short miles to US-50 where we’d start our journey hitching back to our car we had left about 40 miles north by road. We’d traveled about 70 miles on foot from Twin Lakes over 6 days, once we got to a car, we could go all the way back in about 45-minutes to an hour… I figured it’d probably take us two hitches, one down to highway 285 and then another to Buena Vista and if we needed, we could rent a bike there to bike out to the trailhead. We stood along US-50 for 30-45 minutes with thumbs out, not a single car stopped. Lot of Texans, lot of rental care plates, not good odds and the cars that might’ve stopped were zipping by at 65 miles per hour with a not too long shoulder to pull off on. I figured if we walked down the RV resort, a little less than a mile down, maybe a camper would be heading to town for something and give us a lift. Daniel and I started our walk, somewhat happy to be getting down, but somewhat saddened that we were walking still and not riding. We snuck down to a side gravel road to get off the highway and slightly startled an older couple out gardening. We chatted for a moment, and they said the shoulder at the campground wasn’t much better than where we’d come from. The thought on our end was that anything was better than cars zipping by us to no avail…. The walk was easy, wandering passed empty vacation homes and a rushing creek. Eventually we came to a gate and hopped over into the back side of the RV resort. The first person we came to near their truck I asked if there was any chance, they were going to town jokingly. Surprisingly, he ended up being the owner of the RV resort and said he wasn’t going to town, but his father-in-law might be willing to take us down to 285. While he went to ask, we perused through their camp store, grabbing sodas and candy after eating most of the rest of our food the night before. Daniel had been having some allergy issues and luckily, they had single doses of Claritin to give him some relief. The owner came back and checked us out and said his father-in-law would be over to give us a ride down in a few minutes, we were ecstatic to keep moving without having to thumb it again. The old man who came and greeted us was named Harvey; he was an older a bearded man with a big smile. He was from Tennessee originally but now that his daughter and son-in-law lived out here in Colorado, he split his time between the two places. Spring and fall in Chattanooga and summer and winter in Colorado, seemed like a pretty good life to me…. He had 16 grandkids, 3 of which were here in Colorado. He told us about the oldest starting to be able to drive this year, the middle child being a big fan of hocky and traveling all over the state to play. We talked about whitewater rafting and fishing and just being able to enjoy where we were at. The conversation flowed easily, and he offered to take us all the way to Buena Vista which we happily agreed to and offered to pay him some, he refused. I think Harvey was happy to talk and we were more than happy to keep him company. He seemed like a person who’d had quite a life and told us all sorts of stories about trucking other hikers around the Collegiate Peaks area that had wandered into the resort like us. His capacity to help others out of pure kindness and curiosity was inspiring. Once we got to Buena Vista, he surprised us again and took us the rest of the way up a bunch of country roads straight to the car. What I had thought would be one of the hardest logistical challenges ended up being one of the best hitches I’ve ever had. We said goodbye to Harvey, offered $20 for gas that he again declined and swapped back into my car. The journey was done, and the stories had been made. What started as everything going wrong turned into an enjoyable week and another section checked off my long journey on the Colorado Trail. At this point, I’m sitting at mile 280.9 out of 486. Ideally, I can take two weeks off in the fall and run my way out to Durango to finish it up but more than likely, I’ll finish to Lake City this year and the final bit will be waiting for me in 2026 (I unfortunately have too many vacations planned for 2025 already to get two weeks off, but you never know). Just over halfway on something I thought I’d kick out in four weeks in 2024 is funny to think about. The Colorado Trail has been a learning experience, about long trails, about logistics of section hiking and about myself, about what I like and don’t like when I’m out and about how your head works differently when you’re out for a week or two versus really checking out for a month or months when you’re actually thru-hiking. Hopefully things work out and I get my feet back on the trail in September with my buddy Joe for a hundred miles or so to be a short walk from the finish line. As always, thanks for reading and happy trails to wherever your feet take you this summer.
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Nothing on the Colorado Trail went as expected this year. I didn't stick to the timeline I had hoped for, I got injured fairly early on in my first go at it but as always I learned a lot.  I'd gone out in mid-June to try and thru-hike around 250 miles of the Colorado Trail and developed achilles bursitis about 116 miles into it. It was frustrating and something that I still feel now and then if I don't focus on taking care of my legs while I'm still recovering. After our time on the TMB in August I felt strong enough to give it another go and try to check off some more of the Colorado Trail, so I returned to Copper Mountain and started my journey south again. My second go at the Colorado Trail was as quiet as my first, I didn't see a single other thru or section hiker while on the trail. Leaving Copper on September 28th was pleasant, it was still warm out but you could feel the bite of cold in the air, winter was pushing its way in. As I continued higher, the brush finally turned the beautiful yellow that Colorado is known for and I settled in for the next 60 miles of my walk. As I wandered up next to Guller Creek, heading to camp below Searle Pass, I silently hoped to see a moose or elk lounging off in the meadow. I unfortunately didn't have the luck to see one but settling into camp I did see two hunters searching the higher terrain for them. Searle Pass was a nice treat on day two. The day started with a short climb to tree line and then a nice 5 mile ridge walk to Kokomo Pass, it would be my little treat of alpine before finding my way to a very boring forest section. Far down below you could see the ant like cars zooming by on the highway between Leadville and Copper Mountain and somewhere in the distance you could hear the bugling of Elk, calling for some company at the end of the season.
As I headed down Kokomo Pass, the trail runners and the day hikers headed up past me. My short bit of company for the day, a hello and how are you as we'd hurry on our ways for our various adventures in the mountains. Luckily the terrain would have another treat for me hiding in Tennessee Pass. I'd thought I might be behind the timing for the aspens, a little too late but instead I was right on time and the trees were on fire.
The second day ended cold, bundled in my tent near Tennessee Creek, tired but happy I was walking. In the morning I awoke the the crunching of deer outside my tent, wandering for water and heading to the lower elevations. My third day would be my favorite. Although I didn't see another person my entire day of hiking, it was very fitting as I traversed the entirety of the Holy Cross Wilderness in a day. The wilderness area was beautiful, several creeks starting their life to eventually turn into the Arkansas River further below me along with small alpine lakes and beautiful vistas of far off peaks. The variety was awesome and the day was revitalizing.
On morning four I was excited, I'd have company that night and the next day as Kat was planning to meet me on trail to do Mt. Massive and closeout my season on trail with me. The day was a tunnel of green, traversing the eastern slopes of Mt. Massive but I was at peace and enjoying every moment. For the first time this summer a big plan was going according to plan, just how it had been set out. As much as I've learned to go with the flow, I also relish when things go according to plan. As I neared our meetup spot and made myself comfortable I couldn't help but feel there was still something ahead of me (besides going up a 14er). In a few hours Kat would call and tell me the bridge to get to the trailhead (and me) was out and there was no way around. We'd go back and forth on the phone for about 30 minutes before she figured out the way around and just before sunset we linked up for dinner in the tent and a cold night above 11,000', trying to stay bundled in our sleeping bags. That final day we woke up with the sun and started our climb up Mt. Massive, it was both enjoyable and tiring. The wind didn't know what it wanted to do and we went back and forth between too hot and too cold. Mt. Massive is also known for its multiple false summits and they did not disappoint, every time we felt like we were getting closer, we'd turn a corner or go over a ridge and there was still more ahead.  Eventually, after chatting with a mountain goat and saying some choice words to the trail we found the summit. Somehow it was wind free, the sun was warm and we were happy. It was a great way to top off this section, bringing me one step closer to checking off all of the 14ers in one of Colorado's many mountain ranges. Going back down the trail was quick once we got off the summit ridge. Kat sang songs and we chatted about our relaxing long weekend planning ahead, soaking in hot springs in Steamboat and playing around in the mountains at our friend's family cabin. We were happy to have had a very successful day right out of the vacation gate.
Whenever you start a thru-hike, there’s always a bit of fear in your mind of the unknown. It’s this palpable mix of excitement and anxiety all bundled together. For me, the Colorado Trail seemed far off for all of this year, way out in the wings. As June came around, it was all of a sudden here. I had prepared, planned and was ready to go. The first section of the trail winds it’s way up along the Platte River into the Front Range. It’s this oddly green section of trail, that for me, was unlike anything else I’d hiked in Colorado. Wet, lush and humid once you got into the forest. That first day, there were more Mountain Goats than hikers on trail, it was an interesting sign of the quietness to come. Over the next few days I slowly moved into the Colorado I know, dry, piney and rocky. As I chatted with the other hikers I passed, they all seemed to be section hikers, weekend warriors and a mix of other things, with very few thru-hikers those first days. I was getting curious if I’d started too early.
As I progressed out of the Buffalo Creek area and into the Lost Creek Wilderness, I felt myself settling into the trail. The trail progressed into the Terryall and Kenosha mountains, smaller ranges with little traffic. They were beautiful and cozy places I hadn't spent much time, overflowing with spring water and ready to be explored. I had some soreness in my legs but all in all, I felt good at the end of each day. I felt like I was making good time and I felt like I was starting to enjoy the nature of this trail, less of a highway like the PCT and more of a slow country road. I started to take more time and breaks in my days, soaking my feet in frigid creeks and splashing water on my hot head in the late afternoon. The Lost Creek Wilderness was a treat, big open grassy meadows with cruisy climbs and gradual descents. Deer would stare at me through the trees as we passed each other and marmots and groundhogs would scurry through the meadow. I kept my eyes out for Moose and Elk with no such luck. The section went by quickly, but in a good way.
 By my fourth day on trail, I was closing in on Kenosha Pass, an easy hitch into the small towns of Jefferson or Fairplay. A part of me wanted to just keep going, a part of me wanted a short rest in town before I continued on my way. I met another thru-hiker named Frank, who I wouldn’t see agin due to the short days he was doing, but after a good conversation, he convinced me to go into town for a bite to eat and a little bit of civilization . Going into town was a good call, I got charged batteries, a belly full of real food with buckets of salt and some more good conversations with the townies. Jefferson had 3 businesses and they all seemed to cater directly to weary travelers and hungry outdoors folk. By early afternoon I was back on trail and heading for Georgia Pass, my first run-in with snowy conditions. I climbed along the trail to just below the pass and spent the night with the fourth CT thru-hiker I had met, a girl whose trail name was Cheesit. We sat and talked about the miles ahead, what got us to be out here and what we hoped to do in the coming days. We talked about how we were in the first dozen or so hikers to head southbound on the CT, I had wondered why the trail was so quiet compared to the PCT and now I knew! I just enjoyed the company after camping alone the previous few nights. On my fifth day I was up at 4am, the sun had barely started to illuminate the forest. I wanted to get up and over the pass early to be able to stay on top of the frozen snowfields instead of running into midday slushy slop. I quickly found my way up the mellow and beautiful alpine pass, easily dodging most of the snow on the way up, only to get to the backside on the way down and spend an hour struggling over large drifts quickly starting to melt again. It was tough going but I knew a night in a bed in Breckinridge was on the other side. I pushed along and met my second CDT hiker heading up the pass who seemed as excited to see me as I was to see him. The CDT had been quiet and he seemed happy to see another hiker and share what he knew about the trail ahead of me, I tried to be as helpful for him as I could but was definitely less so. We chatted for a bit after realizing we both hiked the PCT in 2021 and then headed on our separate ways. As I got down to Breckenridge, a sharp pain started to radiate along the back of my left heel. It felt like a popping blister and a tight muscle at the same time. By the time I got to the bus station I was limping from the pain, not a great sign. I got sandals on, which felt slightly better on my achilles but the tenseness was still there. I spent the rest of the day, elevating and icing, took a soak in the hotel hot tub and hoped that it just needed a short rest and the brace I bought in town would help.
 The next morning, I sleepily packed my things in the hotel to get out and do the climb over Breck Peak 6 before the heat of the day kicked in. I made it maybe 2 miles before I bailed down to Frisco. Every step felt like fire on the back of my ankle, I had hoped it would work itself out, but it seemed to be staying persistent. I was stuck, there was no way I could hike further without more rest. I didn’t know how much rest that would be… As I felt my ability to complete the first half of the Colorado Trail how I had planned slipping away, I was sad, frustrated and confused. Only 3 years earlier I had hiked the entire PCT in similar shoes, with more pack weight and bigger miles. How was only 100 some miles on the Colorado Trail enough to put me in this much pain, almost unable to walk? I accepted what my body was saying, I needed rest. When I got to Frisco, I hatched a plan. After much messaging back and forth with several hiking friends and Googling different shin and ankle issues, I decided I could probably bike without doing more damage. I hobbled into Rebel Sports in Frisco, they were kind enough to stash my pack for a few hours and set me up with a rental bike so I could check-off the last 10 miles to Copper Mountain (where I had intended to hitch up to Leadville). As I road along the Ten Mile Rec Path to Copper, I was happy I had found a way to go a little further, I was happy that I had the opportunity to be out doing what I was doing and enjoying the simpleness of just focusing on getting from point A to B. My leg still felt tight, but wasn’t in pain from pounding. The air was crisp and cool, the bike trail was full of wildlife and I came to peace with the fact that this portion of my journey was over. I’d spend the next few days hobbling around Leadville, enjoying chit chatting with ultra runners at the hostel, catching up with a co-worker who was on her way to Vail for a wedding and being a thru-hiking bum around town while I still looked the part. Kat eventually came up for a preplanned trail visit and we continued to wander around Leadville for the weekend. Without much improvement in my left leg and some healing tightness settling into my left calf muscle, I went back to Colorado Springs to rest. Every little journey teaches us some kind of lesson. After the PCT, it took me a long time to see the lessons. So far on the CT, they’ve been very obvious. As much as I love being out in nature and moving through landscapes, I love the people you meet along the way just as much. Elliott and Cameron, the young guys from Boulder hiking the old fashioned way with a paper map and no phones, Frank, the only other person I saw on day 3, enjoying his retirement, and Cheesit, the last CT hiker I saw on my way over Georgia Pass, thank you all for your company! The harder lesson, I’m getting old…. The body can’t take the beatings it used to without giving it enough back. In the future, I hope to listen to it better and hopefully work with the body I have with more success. The next month will be dedicated to some self prescribed physical therapy and muscle rehab. The mind truly is stronger than the body sometimes and I'm glad I didn't walk myself into the dirt. I’ll be taking a few weeks off to recover and hopefully returning to trail July 20th from where I left off. Stay tuned and happy trails!
Lately I feel restless. After completing the PCT in 2021, it took me a long time to figure out what that journey taught me both about myself and about what I wanted in life. I’ve spent a lot of my life with a feeling I’ve just been floating along with my goal or ambition clear in my mind but the ability to reach it just over the horizon. Like I’m fighting to get there, but with the sensation I’m dragging along.  Hiking the PCT is a prime example of this. I cannot count how many times I almost decided to dropout of college but used hiking the PCT as my carrot on a stick to get myself there, hanging on to finish what I was doing, gather the money and complete my actual goal. My current aspiration is owning a home.
I came away from the PCT with a want to have a true space of my own. After moving for 5 months and seeing these little pockets of serenity along the way in people’s lives, the beautiful places I was lucky enough to traverse, I wanted my own piece of beauty that I would love being in everyday. I’ve spent almost a decade renting homes that I would try to make mine but they weren’t truly mine. Over the past few years I’ve found my way to Colorado, and I think it’s a place I’d like to stay but I’m not quite there on the whole home buying part yet. Whether it be impatience, a need for a bit of gratification or personal habit, I’m going to go for a walk. A little distraction, something to bide my time until I reach my true goal. This summer I’ll be thru-hiking the 567 mile long Colorado Trail from Waterton Canyon near my home, following the backbone of the Rocky Mountains to Durango on the other side of the state. As with the PCT I’ll be documenting my experience here on my blog along the way both for myself and for others to follow along if you’re interested. I hope you enjoy my journey as much as I hope to. Time to start walking, June 14th, 2024. |
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