Follow me on the CDT: Finishing New Mexico
At 10,000ft I could feel the altitude. I don't know how we suddenly got so high. The climb out of Cuba was long but it did not feel exhausting until we reached the saddle. I tried to slow my breathing to take bigger, fuller breaths as my lungs screamed for more oxygen. Though I've climbed through many sections at and above 10,000ft, I always forgot the initial shock to the system. My breaths returned to normal as my body got what it needed from the thinner air.
Despite sucking air, I was marveling at how good I felt. This was the first point all trail where my body felt not just good, but right. Two weeks prior to starting trail, I had carpal tunnel surgery. Nothing major but it did mean I had an inch scar across my hand that had been knitting itself together. Just when the skin had closed, I moved onto my mold intestinal discomfort then to the UTI. Now here I am 24 hours on antibiotics and my body feels complete. The tiredness that I became accustomed to was gone.
I turned from the sign post to rejoin the official CDT. We had opted to take the old route instead of the new official one as it was commonly reported that aggressive dogs chased weary hikers along it. As I turned around I saw our first snow of the trail. Not falling snow, but snow as a remnant of the winter. It took until that moment for me to comprehend that we were in northern New Mexico. Boy, had New Mexico gone by quickly.
The environment couldn't be more different from the red stand stone south of Cuba. Patches of snow, thick brown soil, and tall pines. The trail weaved between the edge of the forest and the open grass plain in the middle. The ground quickly turned more marsh than solid with an abundance of water from the snow melt. By the time we set up camp in a pine grove my shoes were still drying out from the wet walk.
Then as is CDT fashion, the next day was at complete odds with our mountain scenery. Our plan was to take another alternate to stop at Ghost Ranch. A tourist attraction as Georgia O'Keefe's summer house but also offering lodging and a small store. We had sent a resupply box ahead to spilt up the 155 miles between Cuba and Chama. At 25 miles/day we would have been looking at 6 days which is past the threshold of manageable weight. This alternate brought us down from mountain tops back to the sandstone bluffs and long canyons. The little snow quickly forgotten as we hiked in heat once more.
Alternates can be a mixed bag when it comes to being a well seasoned trail. Most of time they are dirt roads. This alternate attempted to use trails but I found myself climbing under and over more barbed wire fences than I am comfortable with. I was relieved to arrive at Ghost Ranch with no trespassing charges. It was a short stay to collect our package and charge our phones in whatever unattended outlet we could find. I soon found myself climbing out of the canyons back into the mountains of New Mexico.
It felt like a curtain dropped between the warmth of Ghost Ranch and coolness of the mountains as we climbed. By the time we reached camp, small flurries had started drifting down overhead. Unfortunately the temperature did not improve. We woke to a fresh inch of snow the following morning and temperatures below freezing. I have always struggled with cold while hiking. Heat is easier to deal with because you can control factors to mitigate it - hike early in the morning; find shade; wet your shirt; etc. Cold however requires gear, either more gear or different gear. I was wearing every item of clothing I had with me and still spent our lunch break shivering rather than relaxing. The problem was only exasperated with a knee high water crossing a mile before camp. The next morning I warmed my completely frozen shoe laces over my stove in addition to making coffee.
The remainder of New Mexico passed clouded by cold. The terrain opened up in to grassy, exposed ridges with clumps of trees. The wind was our non-stop companion on these ridges. My hubris as an experienced thru hiker was shaken by feeling completely unprepared for this weather and this trail. I had to start adding new routines such as applying Aquaphor to my wind burned face each evening before bed. Most of all it was making me reconsider the plan for the San Juans, the mountain range in southern Colorado. The San Juans are high elevation country sitting above 11,000ft. It would be only be colder.
I knew each of us was internally battling with our own preferred plan. My stubbornness had me committed to the high route in the San Juans. It was a mountain range I've explored only a couple times and had been excited to return. But at what cost? To be miserably cold and uncomfortable? The trail steered us in the right direction with our final stretch of New Mexico.
There were 7 miles of snowy trail before reaching the Colorado state line. Those 7 miles took 7 hours. We found ourselves in what was once a dense forest with half of the trees dead on the ground and snow piled 4ft high. Despite the lack of direct sunlight the snow was dangerously soft which led to post-holing with nearly every step. While tiring, post holing is normally just an annoyance. Here though, I was terrified. I personally knew hikers who had post-holed into a tree or branch and impaled part of their leg. Jedi blazed a path for us reading the terrain to find a manageable route despite wherever the trail went. My focus was solely on keeping my legs intact. I gulped when I started seeing blood spots on some of the boot tracks.
Reaching Colorado was a victory, not just because it meant the end of post-holing hell but because each state line is a victory towards a thru hike completion. Traditionally we like to pack out a celebration drink for the borders, but with such a long resupply we didn't have anything. Jinx came to the rescue and had started chatting with a family at a campground the day before. They insisted she take bottles of beer with her. Normally hikers prefer cans because we can crush the trash. Bottles are heavy and bulky... but FREE beer?! Yes please! We cracked our beers using the edge of Jedi's trail maintenance saw.
Overall the experience of northern New Mexico made our path forward clear. We didn't even have to discuss it much between ourselves, we just knew that we were not going into the San Juans like this. We crossed into Colorado after 31 days of trail and promptly went back into New Mexico to the town of Chama. There we ironed out a plan to travel north into southern Wyoming and hike 180 miles of the Great Divide Basin, aka the only part of trail not under snow. Including travel we would be gone for 10 days which would be a significant melting period for the snow in Colorado.
I was confident with our plan. Something I had learned across my previous two hikes is to trust your gut despite what others choose. Nearly everyone around us was continuing on the low elevation route or waiting a week in town. Out of anyone we spoke to, we were the only ones heading to Wyoming. My gut said our hike would be more enjoyable flipping to the Basin.
In thru-hiking there are a few philosophies amongst hikers. Purists are hikers who take only the official, red line route. Others aim for a continuous footpath, meaning it doesn't matter the path but that their footsteps track from terminus to terminus. A flip (hopping to one of section and than back down) is a violation of both those philosophies. My goal is a complete thru hike. The objective to all miles I can in whatever order that may be. The PCT fire closures aided in adopting this thinking.
Knowing the next objective put my mind at ease. There was still one last contingency, how do we get to Wyoming? We have no car and are in a small rural town with limited public transport. The trail provided. We just so happened to get a ride from a trail angel into Chama who was heading to Albuquerque the following day. While a completely geographically inefficient route, we could rent a car in Albuquerque and drive ourselves north. Buckle up for a road trip! Next stop Wyoming!
