Mick’s Miscellaneous Meanderings

This is the year I’m going to be backpacking the 485 mile Colorado Trail. I’d dreamed about it for more than half my life but things just never came together to allow me to do it without feeling irresponsible. When I first started thinking it might actually be possible this summer, I tried to not get my hopes up. As the year progressed and things started brewing, I started getting hopeful but wasn’t quite brave enough to make the decision until early April.  Then I flip flopped on the decision several times. Then I started making plans and getting everything together:  

1. Ordered the CT guide book and data book and read numerous online journals of CT thru-hikes while waiting impatiently for the 2011 versions of the books to be released.

2. Created a 6 week mileage itinerary based on my backpacking experience on east coast trails, time needed to acclimate to the altitude, distance between reliable water on the CT, and side trips to climb several 14,000 ft. mountains (fourteeners) near the trail.

3. Created a daily menu that I then compiled into a grocery list.

4. Worked out the logistics of how I was going to get there and home with my dog – no small feat.

5. Spent hours shopping online and locally for lightweight foods and gear upgrades.

6. Put drop boxes together for my 10 resupply points.

7. Started running consistently again so the first few weeks on the trail wouldn’t be so painful.

8. Packed, weighed, and unpacked my backpack ad nauseam, deciding what I absolutely couldn’t live without.

I’ve finally run out of time to obsess anymore and am in the car driving to Colorado with a running buddy, and our dogs. Looks like this trip really is going to happen. Woot! Colorado, here I come. Hope you’re ready for me.

Posted from WordPress for Android

Arrived in Colorado after an eventless 2.5 day, 1700-mile drive and went directly to the Trail.  Took the dogs on a short walk and started feeling the effects of the altitude. Packed them back  into the car to go search for some food and a place to bed down for the night.  A roadside BBQ joint and a primitive campground turned out to be the only choices unless we wanted to drive back into the Denver area.  So much for shaving one last time before hitting the trail.

After setting up camp at Kenosha Pass Campground at 10,000 ft., filling the water containers, and taking the dogs for another short walk, I had a splitting headache from the oxygen deprivation and was out of breath with every move.  Sandy didn’t feel a thing.  I started secretly planning to make her pack heavier than mine so I could keep up.

Not feeling too well and wanting to be rested for the first day on the trail tomorrow, I turned in at 7:30. 

Posted from WordPress for Android

Had a rough night last night.  Four ibuprofen didn’t seem to touch the splitting headache.  Finally around midnight it started  to subside so I could sleep but I woke up in the morning feeling like I had a hangover.  So I spent most of the morning unpacking and repacking my backpack one last time, making final decisions on what was worthy of the trek.

Then we headed 30 miles down the road  to Aspen Park and the nearest grocery store to pick up breakfast for the week on the trail – bagels.  The plan was to spend the week hiking easy to acclimate to the altitude.  Depending on how this week went we’d either resupply and spend another few days backpacking  or just camp somewhere and do day hikes before Sandy had to head back home. Then I’d continue on and hike the remaining 440ish miles with my dog.

After stocking up on supplies for the first leg, we headed back to the trailhead to wait for our shuttle.  While we waited, Sandy read a copy of the latest Backpacker Magazine on her iPad, drooling over the reviews of hikes in Yellowstone and Glacier National Park.  She handed me the iPad.

Sandy: Check out that picture.
Mickey:   I can’t see it. The screen is too dark.
Sandy: Take off your sunglasses.
Mickey: [duh]

I clearly wasn’t used to wearing sunglasses.  They were never a necessity for me.  They were just something else to keep track of and complicate life. I knew I’d need them for this hike so I started wearing them recently. And this was the second time they tripped me up.  A few weeks ago I drove through a tunnel on the PA turnpike and couldn’t figure out why everything was so dark.  I thought I was having a stroke or something until halfway through the tunnel when I realized I still had the glasses on.  Glad I didn’t get the super dark lenses.

Not long after the sunglasses incident, our ride pulled up – a fellow hiker with the trail name of Cannibal.  He and his girlfriend, Chris, were scheduled to shuttle us from our endpoint of this leg near Bailey, CO 40 miles to the start of the Colorado Trail.  He came over to the car and introduced himself. I guess my PA license plates gave me away. 

We loaded our packs and dogs into his SUV and climbed in….hesitantly.  He had a hunting knife attached to his belt.  Cannibal.  Hmmm.

We headed into town to pick up Cannibal’s girlfriend who he’d left at the restaurant to finish eating since they’d been running late.  She was nowhere to be found. Cannibal. Hmmmm.

We drove around the small town stopping at places she was likely to go. Finally found her in a parking lot playing with a dog. Whew.

At 3:30 we finally arrived at the Indian Creek Trailhead, a side trail that intersects the Colorado Trail at mile 7.9.  The first 6 miles of the CT are closed this summer so you either need to start at the alternate trailhead or skip segment 1 altogether.  Since dogs aren’t allowed on the first part of segment 1 anyway, I opted to do the alternate route.

We hiked in 2 miles and set up camp for the night, calling it a day.

Camped on Indian Creek Trail (6500 ft.)

Not sure how the altitude would affect us, nor how strenuous the trail would be, I’d scheduled 4 miles for the day. We reached mile 4 at 9 am. We took a break at a creek and weighed our options – sit and twiddle our thumbs for the rest of the day or hike 8 miles to the next water source. The 8 miles won.

At our break we ate a snack – that’s one of the great things about backpacking – it gives you license to eat a Snickers bar at 9 o’clock in the morning!

Three miles later at a break, we bet our first fellow thru-hiker – Lance from Kansas.

Finally arrived at the South Platte River around 5 and what we thought was going to be home for the night. The tent was all set up, water filtered, we’d washed up, and I was cooking dinner when a forest ranger showed up and told us we were camping illegally. We found the sign that said no camping laying in the grass next to teh campsite after he left. Our options were to hike 4.5 miles further down the trail where we’d have to carry enough water for tonight and tomorrow or hoof it 1/4 mile back up the mountain we just came down. We finished supper, packed everything back up, and retraced the last 1/4 mile of our steps. We re-setup the tent, sleeping pads, and sleeping bags, and got the dogs fed and situated and crawled in the tent just in the nick of time. The storm that had been brewing all morning let loose!

Prehistoric evidence on the trail.

Camped at South Platte River (6120 ft)

Started out the day under a bridge along the South Platte River trying to filter water for the day while eating a breakfast of bagel with PBJ and a milkshake*. The shake hit the spot but filtering didn’t go so well. An o-ring or gasket or something died on the filter. I guess it was about time. It’s served me through about 15 years of backpacking. We’d be drinking iodine treated water for the rest of the segment. Yuck.

Our hike for the day took us through a 10 mile burn area of a 1996 fire. This area is known as a brutal section of trail because of the constant exposure to the sun and the lack of water sources. The dogs carried a total of a gallon of water for themselves (although the heavy pack didn’t prevent Cassie from bolting off the trail after a chipmunk) and we carried over a gallon (8 lbs!) of water for ourselves for the day. We didn’t have much left by the end of the day.

As it turned out, it was a brutal hike but not because of the sun and temps. About 1 pm, thunderstorms started rolling in. Not being familiar with the weather patterns out here, I was freaked out about getting caught on the exposed ridges with lightning. So, what should have been a 5-mile leisurely hike for the afternoon turned into a race against the sky. Seeing lightning pop up around us made me a little edgy and the only thing that kept going through my mind the whole time was “there’s no substitute for experience.” Whether it’s experience with the CO weather, experience with repairing musical instruments or building websites, experience with an illness or disability, etc. You can read all the books in the world on a subject or think and speculate about something but you just don’t fully understand the breadth or depth of something until you experience it. And I needed to experience some CO storms to know when it’s safe to continue up the trail and when I should be barreling down into a valley for lower ground. I got some experience on that today!

We arrived at our camping spot by 3 at the end of a steady rain. It stopped just long enough to set up the tent and get supper made. Then another round of storms rolled in. Thankfully there was intermittent 3G reception on my phone so I could use the time to catch up on email and Facebook, etc.

Milkshake recipe:
1/3 C Nido dry powdered whole milk
2 T non-dairy creamer
1 T Instant Pudding Mix
1 envelope Carnation Instant breakfast – any flavor.
Add 1 1/4 C cold water, shake well.

Camped at 7800 ft.

Easy hiking all day. Water was plentiful. Mountain bikers were plentiful too but a pain in the butt. Not because we had to hustle off the trail every time one came barreling down the trail but because every time I stopped for a potty stop, one inevitably appeared out of nowhere.

Made it to camp early (3:30) and set up the tent just in time for more thunderstorms.

Short hike into Bailey for a resupply and to get cleaned up. It’s a sad day when your dog smells better than you do.

So…that’s what my blog post was originally going to say….until we reached the car at the trailhead. As we crested the last hill and started down the other side to the trailhead where we were picked up by Cannibal, the car came into view. It looked like I’d left the driver door window open. Oh crap. It rained hard and for a long time last evening. The car was going to be flooded! As we got closer, I kept looking, certain that the window was down but certain that I hadn’t left it down.

We crossed the road and reached the parking lot where I could see I hadn’t left the window down at all. It had been smashed in! WHAT?!?!?!? Oh crap. My mind raced trying to remember anything valuable we’d left in the car. I immediately felt violated and betrayed by the hiking community. How could someone do this to a fellow hiker? There was an unspoken trust between hikers. You could go camping and leave your gear stashed and not worry about being robbed. You could backpack in, leave you pack resting against a tree at the bottom of a mountain, grab a water bottle and go summit a 14,000 footer and know that your pack, your means of survival, would be untouched when you returned 8 hours later. You could scatter your gear in a shelter on the Appalachian trail along with 6 others people and know that not a single thing would go missing. Any faith in human decency that I had was suddenly gone.

We started walking around the car and sizing up the situation. It had definitely been done that morning since the interior was completely dry…and MUDDY!!! What the…? Sandy came around the corner and asked if I’d seen the note in the car. Huh? I looked through the missing window. Laying on the driver’s seat amongst the broken glass was a ticket from the forst service. WTF? I was getting cited for something? I could feel my blood pressure rising. I read the note on the ticket:

“Looks like a bear to me. I’ve filed a report. Please call xxx-xxxx.”

It started to sink in. The mud all over the interior, the long hairs stuck to the outside of the door, our valuables still there. Nothing seemed to be missing except some fudge we’d left. The container was mangled and the fudge was gone. My trust in the hiking community returned.

I assessed the damage (broken window, scratches on the outside of the car, muddy interior, glass everywhere) and started calculating what all I needed to do. Call the forest service person. Call my insurance company. Find a glass company to replace the window. Suddenly getting a shower and a big juicy burger weren’t top priority anymore.

We drove into Bailey and started making the calls. Within an hour we were on our way into Denver (windy ride!) to meet a mobile auto glass company at the hotel where we’d be spending the night. The window was repaired by 4 pm! Wow. AND I had the “claim of the day” with my insurance company – “A bear broke into my car and stole my fudge.”

Car taken care of, we headed into REI to get a repair kit for my dead water filter and to drool over all the cool gear.

Saturday, July 9
Hiked a trail up to some Alpine Lakes at 10,000 ft and into some major snowbanks northwest of Denver. The dogs absolutely loved it, rolling around in the snow and playing. Sandy, not so much, when she ended up hip deep in a snowbank. Hiked back down through drizzling rain.

Sunday, July 10
Waited for REI to open to buy new water filter. The repair kit didn’t work. :-\ Drove to Leadville and checked into the Hostel and bummed around town.

In Leadville - a fence made of skis

Monday, July 11
Reconnoiter hike for a Mt. Elbert summit (second highest peak in lower 48). The road to get to the trailhead was marked as a 4-wheel drive road. That could mean many things out here. We parked at the lower trailhead and hiked to the upper trailhead to see how far in I could take my wannabe SUV. Turned out, pretty far in – to within a 1/2 mile or so of the upper trailhead. That still left 4 miles and 4000 to get to the summit but better than having to hike from the lower trailhead.

Tuesday, July 12
Hiked to the summit of Mt. Elbert! Painful, painful hike. Most of the 4 miles was pretty steep – gaining about 1000 ft/mile.
About 30 minutes from reaching the summit, a cloud moved in and enshrouded the peak. Boo. We stayed in the freezing cold air of the summit with light drizzle until we couldn’t feel our hands anymore. Looked like the cloud was there to stay. All that work and no reward. Not even a marker to take a picture of at the summit.
We were accompanied by rain the whole way back down. My rain jacket kept me dry until a 1/2 mile from the car where I tried to cross a creek on a log and fell off. Both feet in the creek halfway up to my knees. Grrr.

Trail head to Mt. Elbert

early season wildflowers above treeline

Clouds rolling in on the ascent on Mt. Elbert

Clouds rolling in on the ascent on Mt. Elbert

The summit! But no views. Boo.

Clouds rolling on on the Mt. Elbert ascent

A view of Twin Lakes

Wednesday, July 13
Late morning to recover from yesterdays climb up Mt. Everest (felt like it anyway!). Thought I was feeling fine until I jumped out of bed to my calves SCREAMING at me when my feet hit the floor. Apparently my heart and lungs weren’t the only thing that got a workout yesterday.
Bummed around the hotel drying out yesterday’s gear and getting ready to go back on the trail on Friday. Did laundry, grocery shopped, and got my pack set. Then set out on the road back to the Bailey area – Pine, CO – for some puppy schooling. Met with a canine behavior specialist to address some issues with Cassie and Cooper. Highly recommend Suzi from the Canine Psychology Center for obedience and behavior training.

Thursday, July 14
Original plan was to hike another 14er – Mt. Sherman. Google said it was only a 1/2 hour away. Unfortunately, it turned out that 20 of those 30 minutes were on a rough 4-wheel drive road. Not gonna happen in my wannabe SUV KIA Sportage. So we turned around and headed to Mt. Evans which has a paved road to the top. Awesome views but it was thundering and lightning in the distance so we didn’t stay long.
Back to Leadville and my “last supper” – steak, potatoes, and cheesecake! The majority of my meals for the next 30 days or so would be trail food.
Back to the hotel and I continued to eat everything in sight. Tried to turn in at a decent hour but paper thin walls at the hotel and a neighbor thwarted that plan. Finally, at midnight, I unpacked my tent and got my earplugs out of the little side pocket and took an Ambien. Apparently I slept through more loud talking and the neighbor’s dog howling….thankfully.

From the peak of Mt. Evans, a 14er

From the peak of Mt. Evans, a 14er

From the peak of Mt. Evans, a 14er

The geological marker on the summit of Mt. Evans

Slept in a little this morning because of the late night. Got moving, packed and drove the 2 hours to the trail head just south of Bailey to jump in where we left off by noon. I’d be continuing on and finishing the remainder of the 460 miles solo (errr….with my dog, Cassie) as Sandy could only take 2 weeks of vacation at a time.

Hiked 10 miles, 7 of which were uphill – much of it steep. Ugh. Reached my campsite for the night by 6 in a valley along a creek at 10,200 ft…in among cow patties. :-\ I had to watch where I stepped and keep Cassie on a short leash so she didn’t roll in any fresh ones.

Filtered water, set up the tent and contents, ate supper, and got cleaned up by 7 and hit the sack – the first night in my new tent!

Spent the morning driving a herd of cattle through the valley for a few miles. They would NOT get off the trail – just kept going forward.

Passed a couple groups of boy scouts going in the opposite direction. Stayed at another crappy campsite – literally – it was full of cow and horse poop* – because I didn’t have the energy to go one more mile. I was just exhausted – so exhausted that while I should have been ravenous, I didn’t want to eat. I forced half of supper down and saved the rest for Cassie’s breakfast.

*Why is it that we are required to clean up after our dogs on the trail and bury their pooh just like we have to bury our human pooh but people don’t have to clean up after their horses?!? Seriously. What’s the reasoning on that?