Spesh and I are up by 6:30, off by 7, the earliest we’ve done this leg, in an effort to make it into Salida early. It’s one of our harder climbs on this leg, too: 1000 feet in 1.3 miles, so early, on a hurt foot. Continue reading
Tag: Colorado Trail 2015
Day Nineteen: Nine in Eight
I wake late because it’s coldcoldcold, frost on the outside of my shelter. My foot, to my chagrin, has not somehow magically healed overnight, so we’re slow getting out of camp; I’m
abusing the good graces of my right foot/leg babying my left foot like I’ve been told to. We’re not helped by the fact that it’s another climb up a rocky jeep road to start today, but at least we’re only planning on nine miles for the day – that should put us in Salida on Thursday, where we can have another quiet evening to ourselves before I’m bombarded with friends and fun. Continue reading
Day Eighteen: Feetses
I wake up in a bed, and that is glorious. I mean, eventually, I get up and out of it, but in the moment it’s the best thing. I’m pretty sure the only parts of civilization I miss are bed and internet. And inside, I guess. And warm. But that’s it.
We’re slow getting up and out, but I don’t hate it – it’s probably better for our attempt at hitching back to the trail. That jeep road is a bit vicious, and I’m a little concerned about our chances of getting back. I decide to try to hitch for an hour – 10 to 11 – and if it doesn’t work, we’ll be walking Collegiate East the rest of the way to Salida. So I dance as many dances as I can remember with my thumb out for an hour1, all to no avail. I go to throw away my tea cup, come back, and we take about four steps before an older lady in a Subaru says she’ll take us all the way up. The trail works in mysterious ways. Continue reading
Day Seventeen: Hiking, the Musical
I wake up gently, chilly. My shelter’s wet from the rain, and so we take our time to let things dry a bit. It’s a decadent morning, full of coffee and breakfast and enjoying sitting. Sitting is great. Soon we’ll walk, but for now, sitting. Yes. Gooood. Continue reading
Day Sixteen: Breaking the Perfectionist
I wake feeling unsettled. Something’s wrong in my abdominal region, but I’m able to pack up camp while it figures out what it wants: sick or not sick, and if sick, up or down. Speshul tells me it was probably a bear checking us out last night, what with the heavy footfalls and the lumbering off begrudgingly rather than spooking; I feel like I should be more perturbed by the notion, but really, the slowly-exhibiting pain in my gut’s occupying most of my early-morning brain capacity. It feels like I’ve got an alien in there trying to get out, and we don’t quite make it out of camp before I have to limp my way to a place where I can be sick out of eyeshot, not once, but twice.
I’m still hurting when I come back, know the cramps1 are going to haunt me all day, and sure enough, they’re still echoing around in there when we finally set off. We find a campsite that’s about a quarter mile further on down the path, not a tenth of a mile like the guidebook’d said, but it’s comforting to know the guidebook knew what it was talking about. Sort of.
Day Fifteen: Not Quite Best Pass
We’re up later again today. Speshul1 doesn’t sleep well, so I anticipate this leg to Salida to be a little later getting up and going. We’ve got six more days before friends are meeting us in Salida, though, and even doing fewer miles – what with the passes and my slowness and all – we’re like to make it there early. Even with the late wake-up, it’s still not about rushing out of camp; breakfast is a thing again today, and I’m sure there’s some sort of lesson in this. Spesh is a good teacher, subtle like that.
Day Fourteen: Lost Hope
Special and I roll over at 7, actually get up at 7:30. We’re not trying to make it far, mostly because we’re not quite sure how far we’ll make it – I’ve decided to take the Collegiate West route, so today’s the day we do Hope Pass, the central climb in the Leadville 100. Such feats boggle my mind, and I’m keeping my expectations nebulous as we head downstairs for breakfast at the Inn.
Day Thirteen: The Town Formerly Known as Dayton
I wake with town thoughts in mind: Twin Lakes is ahead, and with it, seeing both M and Special. Six and a bit miles, and then town food and showers and beer and ice cream in one of the more beautiful towns in Colorado I’ve ever been to.
Both Trevor and I are getting a slow start, but it feels nicer this way, and I know I can make six miles before my housemates pull in around late afternoon. I even take the opportunity to eat before lazily scooting out of camp. Continue reading
Day Twelve – Cell Service Central
I wake relatively late today – it’s 7am – but I think my body needed it. I’m already more relaxed than yesterday; I’ve got today and tomorrow to make it 22-and-a-bit miles to Twin Lakes, and even though I was dragging yesterday, I managed to pull off 15. Should be fine.
Neither Trevor nor I are in any hurry to get out of the campsite. I cook and eat about half of a box of couscous while Trevor packs up, having done his due diligence re: food last night. We say our goodbyes, but we’re going the same way, and I wonder if I’ll see him again. Continue reading
Day Eleven: Hanger and Disappointment
I’m up at my normal time – 6:30, though I’ve heard something , expectation shining in my eyes: I’ve done one 20-mile day; how hard can it be to do it again? Continue reading