The final segments!
I left Silverton around 10 am after getting a ride in a beat up, red pick up with an old geezer who answered everything I said with “Right on.” His story goes like this: he got to Silverton 18 years ago on his motorcycle with just the clothes on his back and “not quite three dollars in my pocket.” Now, he has twelve more motorcycles, owns a house and a kid.
I hiked from the road to Little Molas Lake and hit a trailhead (which was not in the guidebook) and read a sign warning about sheep dogs. Fantastic. Just what I need to worry about right now. Moving slowly with a full food bag, I hiked awhile and stopped for lunch where I still had a good view, but past where all the day hikers went from Little Molas. I went in very small ups and downs and near beautiful wild flower fields of yellows and pinks and reds and purples. Passing far more water sources than mentioned in the guidebook, I got some when I needed it and only carried about a liter with me.
That evening, I stopped between a pond and a small stream which ran into a cave. I could hear sheep not far off and I had no desire or patience to deal with them that night. I figured 10 miles was enough for a day out of town anyway. In the morning, I got moving in good time until I hit the sheep. I passed the sheep dude sitting over on another hill in the distance. We waved to each other, but were out of earshot.
The first sheep moved away with no problem when I walked through. They didn’t want to deal with me and I didn’t want to deal with them. Our agreement worked just fine until the sheep dogs discovered me and decided that I was not cool. Thanks growling and barking dogs. One in particular, would not leave me alone. It ended up taking me an hour to get about a third of a mile because he growled and showed his rather sharp-looking teeth constantly. After about 5-10 minutes, he would decide that I was ok, but lay about 10 feet in front of me in the middle of the trail. I would walk around him in a semi-circle and he would be fine until I was 10 feet on the other side. He would then begin barking and growling again and I would wait until he would lay ahead in the trail again. Repeat process for 1 hour. Fuuuuuuuuuuck.
That surprisingly drained a good deal of energy making sure it didn’t bite me. My appetite began to rage! It has rarely done this the whole trail. Now, almost finished, it decides to be hungry? Hmmmm. I paced myself on meals and bars by distracting myself with the new geologic formations that surrounded me. I wished Amanda was there to tell me what they all were, how they got there and the inevitable super sarcastically awesome comment. I trucked down until crossing Cascade Creek, which was beautiful and did cascade, but it was also infested with bugs and I had to keep going to get away from them.
The sky looked like something might come in soon, but didn’t until about mile 3 of segment 26 where I found myself getting pelted with hail. Hail hurts when you have just a tank top and running shorts on. I dashed until a tree and hid while a hail storm moved and dropped an enormous amount of hail for half an hour. It entertained me quite well and was much more pleasant than rain. I watched it bounce as it hit the ground. This time, it only got up to marble size though.
When enough of the sky turned blue again, I hiked on to get to the last water source before a 21 mile dry stretch, according to the guidebook. It had a fantastic campsite right before treeline…literally. I got in right as it got dark and cooked dinner, hung my food and almost fell fast asleep until I heard a mountain lion off in the distance.
The next morning took some motivating to get moving. Once I did, I managed to bash my shin across a large blowdown which gave me a small surge of pain, which I ignored until I felt blood dipping down my shin and staining my socks. Then, I took care of it and covered it up. I think my lack of motivation came from the 3.5 liters of water I was carrying in case I didn’t feel like doing 21 miles (which I didn’t). Right before hitting segment 27, I saw a large black bear running away. Glad I hung my food…
The first 10 miles of segment 27 confused the hell out of me because they were a maze of logging roads, some still functioning. It was so confusing that I ripped the instructions out of the guidebook and put them in the waistband pocket because I couldn’t keep the turns straight in my head. Then I ran into a super cheery group of people with day packs. I suspected that they had some caffeine in one of their two trucks that was there and lightly alluded to my desire in hopes of yogiing a soda to wake myself up and hike more motivated. They did not have any there, but did five miles further in their camp and told me to meet them there. Three of them were trail running the five miles and the other two were hiking it. Apparently, after chatting with them, they were with an “expedition” group that had everything already figured out and set up camp and tents for them. All they had to do was carry a day pack and hike together. Sounded like a sweet deal to me.
I did end up having lunch with them because they were great company and I talked with them for a little over an hour, all those at the camp. They generously did have some mountain dew there, a pb&j, and a beer they gave me to pack out. I talked a great deal with Julia who seemed to be the only person under 40 there. I did the sleeping bag trick to keep it cold. After that hearty lunch, I hiked another 9 miles to the beginning of Indian Trail Ridge, the last above treeline 4 mile sha-bang. There were a few clouds, but I did not expect them to turn into anything. Yet, I just camped near the last trees anyway since I had the water and a beer!
The next morning, I noticed I had lost my knife and searched around my immediate area. Nothing. Bummer. I hiked up and over all the bumps on Indian Trail Ridge and down to Taylor Lake (the next water) and got a liter. After a snack, I went up to Kennebec Pass and went down the other side saying goodbye to the exposed hiking. I saw a small dark cloud, but thought nothing of it because it was super small and the rest of the sky was pretty blue. Then, a few miles later in the trees, as I was rocking out to some tunes, I felt a big rain drop on my head. I looked around, glancing through the trees and noticed that very little blue was left in the sky. Hmmm. I found a good tree and sat under its protecting branches as it began to rain. I ate lunch. Then I read. Then I read some more. Still raining. Still dark grey. Then it paused. I hiked about a quarter-mile before it began raining again. This time harder. I ducked under another tree. Lightning and thunder started spinning out and the thunder had an eerie sound like a car racing through a tunnel and then crashing into a cement wall. The lightning was only a mile or two away. The rain was a bit too much to read. An hour later it stopped raining and I hiked another quarter-mile before it downpoured again and I went under a third tree. I looked around. The whole area was super green with loads and loads of vegetation. It must just get slammed with rain.
Eventually, it stopped raining, but as I hiked, the vegetation brushing against my legs got me all wet. When I got to the bottom, I saw nice campsites near the creek and thought about staying, but decided to get a bit further to have a shorter last day. I figured my legs were already wet, so it didn’t matter. As I went up the last climb, I found a few small streams and got a liter out of one. That allowed me to dry camp near the top of the climb. Then I discovered that my pocket rocket did not work. The rungs had been completely stripped out and it wouldn’t screw onto the canister. I ate peanut butter for dinner.
On the menu for breakfast: cold oatmeal. Disgusting. The weather didn’t look too much better, yet I walked on passing a few large cow pies and cursing them because I thought I had left the damned cows behind. Before long, I found myself having an early lunch at Gudy’s rest, four miles from the end. I was joined by two mountain bikers, one of whom stopped just so he could talk on his cell phone for ten minutes. Yup. Back to civilization. Fantastic.
The last four miles just went downhill past one parking lot and ended in the second. It felt good to finish and even better to have a free Colorado Trail Nut Brown Ale from the Carver’s Brewery in my stomach when I got into Durango. I figured if I texted all those I knew behind me and I drank beer long enough, someone would show up. Then everybody showed up: Hop-A-Long, Cookie Monster, No Amp, Phil, Doug, John, and eventually Justin and Andy.
The next day, we continued the celebration after we managed to rent a minivan for the next day to drive back to Denver. We might have celebrated a little too much and the scenic curvy route proved a little difficult. All 7 of us fit with all our packs into a Kia minivan and road tripped back to where we started. We made it back to Denver to visit Stick Man and then crash on Phil’s couch for a night.
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