Pagosa Springs, CO
San Juans before the snow
For the entire length of my CDT hike, locals have been telling us that we’re late. We’re behind the pack. We won’t be able to get through the snows in Colorado.
As we entered the San Juans, the scariest, highest part of the entire trail, we knew the forecast. After 10 days of sunshine, we’d get thunderstorms and rain.
San Juans pre snow
For me, the San Juans were among the 5 most trying days of my life. Waking up wet and frozen to put on frozen shoes on my chaffed feet and posthole up to my knees at 13,000 feet while getting snowed on and having lightening go flash-boom (as in, right right above me while I’m above timberline without the comfort of trees), was one of the most terrifying parts of my life. I was constantly afraid of dying.
Without warning, without even conspicuously ominous clouds over head, lightening flash-boomed above us with no “one-one thousand, two-one thousand” counting that normally lets me know the strike is at least 1/5th of a mile away. At the top of one 12,700 foot spur ridge, I started to break down. I had zoomed up 1000 feet practically running in fear and desperate to get over the ridge to lower ground. I knew we had 12 miles above treeline.
Snow
The bushbuddy stove was difficult to work at altitude. Even though I collected sticks below treeline and tried to keep them dry, the wetfire firestarter–which can burn underwater–had a hard time taking so high up. Twice, we went without hot food because it started snowing hard as I was trying to get dinner ready.
But we did it. Pi, our friend from the PCT, was the only Southbound thru-hiker behind us, and he is leaving the trail. Now, we are the last CDT thru-hikers on the trail.
