Collegiate West: Day 5

With Chalk Creek Pass ten miles away, I want to be sure that I am up and over the pass before any storms have the chance to build, so I am up early, cooking breakfast and breaking camp in the dark. I click off my head lamp just as I start hiking, enjoying the transition from night to day. 

After a long series of switchbacks up a heavily treed mountainside, I break out of the trees into another glorious Colorado morning. A couple of Forest Service employees that I ran into the evening before told me they had seen a moose up here, so I have my eyes open for a moose!

 Do you see a moose? Neither do I! But it sure is pretty up here, and there's a couple of deer!

Beneath this hillside is what remains of the Alpine Tunnel, a narrow gauge railroad tunnel constructed in the early 1880s. It was in use until 1910 when it was closed due to damage. It has since been sealed off. It was the first railroad tunnel constructed through the Continental Divide in Colorado, and remains the highest railroad tunnel and longest narrow gauge tunnel in North America. 

The old railroad grade makes for some easy hiking...

...but this jeep road that climbs out of the old town of Hancock is no fun to hike on!

As I am filtering some drinking water, I look back down the valley at Hancock Lake and the Chalk Creek drainage. This water eventually flows past Mount Princeton Hot Springs. A most perfect scene!

With the pass behind me, I am now hiking along the Middle Fork of the South Arkansas River. 

An America robin and the Colorado Trail decal both pointing the way - go left.

 I make it to Hunt Lake and my highest campsite at nearly 11,500'. The sky decides to rain lightly on and off as the day ends, and the mosquitoes are a mighty force, so I am tucked in pretty early after a long 17-mile day.

Collegiate West: Days 3 & 4

            Sunshine, bird song, blue skies, cool air, beauty all around me, oatmeal, waiting to dry out the tent fly, mosquitoes just thinking about getting started, and some howling coyotes. These are a few words to describe the start of this glorious morning. A few miles of easy hiking brings me to Texas Creek. No rocks, bridge, or logs to cross on – so off with my hiking shoes and on with my sandals, backpack straps undone, and I slowly make my away across. Once again, I am grateful for my trekking poles. The water is cold, and my feet are aching by the time I make it across. Now begins the four mile climb to Cottonwood Pass.

           

           I just passed this invisible boundary. Steadily working my way up towards Cottonwood Pass, I left the perpetual sounds of Texas Creek behind and entered into a forest that is, at this moment, completely silent, save for the sounds of my breathing and footsteps. I pause and savor the magic of this place. Massive spruce and fir trees, a forest floor littered with trees in various stages of decay, the happy flower heads of heartleaf arnica. Within moments, the silence is broken by the squawk of a Clark’s nutcracker, eventually followed by the alarm of a pine squirrel. But for a moment, I was mesmerized by the absolute silence of this ancient forest.

            After a pleasant night at Cottonwood Hot Springs last night, I am back on the trail early under a gray sky that looks like it could go either way – sunshine or rain. The wind is strong, so I don some warmer headwear and find a quick pace. I meet a Dad and two older sons as I work my way up towards a 12,800’ ridge. They’ve been out for a few days and will end their adventure where I started mine this morning. Like me, they are wanting to get their miles in before afternoon thunderstorms bring the threat of lightning. I make it to the ridge and stop to enjoy a morning snack and the sunshine that has won out over the morning gray.

           

I make my way across several stretches of snow, move through a garden of rocks, some the size of buses, and begin another climb to another 12,800’ ridge. Today is turning into one of those days of up and down, up and down. The trail climbs to a high ridge, then drops a couple thousand feet or more into drainage, then back up again.

            I work my way down into the Morgan’s Gulch drainage and notice a marmot on a rock just off the trail. It is just sitting there in the sun, looking happy and well fed, gazing out over so much mountain beauty. What a life! My friend Scott Smith told me once that he’d like to come back to this world as a marmot. Looking at this happy marmat, I can see why.

            Another 12,800’ ridge behind me, and I am working my way towards what will be my last climb of the day. Fortunately, the trail does not appear to drop down as far; from this vantage point, it roughly contours at around 12,600’ before a more gentle approach to the day’s final ridge. As I pass through a lovely stretch of trail lined with blue wildflowers – whipple penstemons, I believe – I notice that a gray cloud up there is beginning to grow into something a bit more ominous looking. Before each ridge today, I was closely watching the sky for any potential for storms. I know how quickly a thunderstorm can build up here, and this exposed alpine landscape, with cover a good long way away, is no place to be when lightning is in the air. Before climbing each ridge, I concluded that the clouds were pretty benign before I headed up and over.

            But this cloud looks different. I decide to kick up the pace and now feel like I am in a race with that cloud, both of us heading for that last ridge. I move through a long stretch of scree, where the potential for a fall goes way up. “OK, take it nice and careful here. You are tired, you want to beat that storm, but a fall right now would definitely be bad news.”  With these words from my inner coach, I make it to the high point and begin down a long series of switchbacks, still well above timberline, down towards Chalk Creek. A clap of thunder – not loud, but thunder just the same – keeps me moving, as the race is not over yet.

            Finally in the trees, I take a sit-down break and then resume, much more slowly, the last mile or so and a place to camp for the night. As I take off my pack for the last time, I calculate that I covered just over 16 miles today. That sleeping bag is sure going to feel good tonight!

           

Collegiate West: Day 1

Helene and I arrive at the trailhead at Twin Lakes around 10:30 under a sky that is more cloudy than blue. A quick check of my gear, I put on my shoes and gators, and I am on my way. The first few miles are easy with a nice tread and relatively flat geography, and I soon find a pretty quick pace that feels good. My goal is to get up and over Hope Pass, at an exposed 12,500’, before the threat of lightning, typically an afternoon concern, becomes an issue. The late start and Hope Pass being nearly nine miles away and 3500’ higher has much to do with the pace I set.

           

The sky is slowly losing its clouds to a rich blue that puts any thoughts of needing my raingear away. In spite of my desire to get up and over the pass, I can’t help but notice – and stop to photograph – several wildflowers that welcome me to the trail – senecio, cinquefoil, lupine, wild rose. After a few miles, the trail takes a left for a more southerly bearing, and the flat easy trail becomes steep and rocky. The quick pace is soon put away with the thoughts of raingear.

A short break to lose my fleece jacket, apply some sunscreen, and have a snack, and I am back on what feels like a slow trudge up an unpleasant rock-strewn trail that once was an old jeep trail. I’ve been climbing for a mile or so when I begin to hear voices. I soon discover they are coming from a group of about 25 teenagers that apparently are finding the trail much more difficult than I am. I leave them behind just as the trail is opening up into a gorgeous alpine wonderland.

The trail narrows and is no longer full of bowling ball sized rocks – that’s good. But the steepness only intensifies as I near the pass. I begin some of the little games I use when a climb brings that “this is sort of like having fun, only different” thought to my oxygen deprived brain. Fifty steps, then I stop for a rest. Thirty steps, then rest. Ten steps… I will make it to that rock, and then stop for a rest. Fortunately, the skies remain nonthreatening, so I don’t feel any great need to move any faster than I am moving. If I keep putting one foot in front of the other, I will get there. What seems like a torturously slow pace on legs that sometimes feel like they are filled with wet cement, I still eventually make it to the top of the pass. OK, I have earned a sit down break, and something substantial to eat.                 
Shortly after making it to the top, a fellow, around age 30, wearing red running attire that included what looked like a light pair of open sandals, arrives and sits down nearby. I remember seeing him two or more hours ago, running down the rocky trail I was climbing. We get to talking, and I learn that Daniel is training for the Leadville 100, a 100-mile mountain footrace that includes two runs to the top of Hope Pass, one from each side. This is his second visit to the top of the pass today in a 25-mile training run. Suddenly, I feel kind of wimpy – here is this guy, running up and down and all around these mountains, in these ultra-light sandals or whatever they are, and I’m complaining to myself about how steep and rocky the trail is. I rationalize that this is my first day on this trek, and I will soon find my trail legs. And he’s so much younger than me. Yeah, that too! These thoughts kind of make me feel a little less like a wimp. Kind of. A little.

The hike down the other side does not have the long, lung-busting climb, but the steepness in reverse on many scree-filled switchbacks is not all that fun either. I finally make it down off the mountainside and begin looking for a place to camp – relatively flat with water nearby. The right spot is not appearing, so I keep on hiking. I hear the howls of several coyotes and smile. I’m tired, as it must be approaching 7pm, but it feels good to once again be out in wild Nature. Knowing I got here, self-powered on these two feet of mine (the original ATV), carrying all that I need to be nourished and warm and dry on my back, with coyote music in the aspen air, makes this moment all the more satisfying. I am feeling a lot less wimpy too.

Leaving Early Monday Morning for Collegiate West!

OK, now I am getting excited. I received word today that, except for a few minor snowfields, the Collegiate West Trail is relatively snow-free. So, the plan is an early Monday morning drive to the start of the trail, which is near Twin Lakes, and I'll be on my way. The actual start and end points of the Collegiate West trail are not at road intersections but at trail intersections with the main Colorado Trail, so I'll be hiking another ten miles or so to get to and then leave the Collegiate West Trail. What's another ten miles, I'm thinking!

The first 35 miles have some healthy climbs over Hope Pass and Lake Ann Pass, both over 12,500', with about 8500' of altitude gain, so I'll be huffing it right off the bat. But I am psyched. I've been getting my gear together, making a list and checking it twice. Once I'm out there, if I forgot something, I'll have to do without. That's actually one of the things I love about backpacking - I take only what I need, I carry it all on my back, and then I'm on my own. If I don't have something, I use my head and figure out how to get by. Truly a back-to-basics kind of experience. Helene reminded me to look at this video that I made at the end of Segment 27 - yes, I'm excited.

Hiking the Colorado Trail, inspired by Walt Whitman

Afoot and light-hearted, I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me, leading wherever I choose.

Henceforth I ask not good-fortune—I myself am good fortune;
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Strong and content, I travel the open road.

- Walt Whitman, from “Song of the Open Road,” Earth, My Likeness

These words by Walt Whitman are an inspiration to me as I get ready for my upcoming hike. No, I won't be on the open road, but I'll soon be on the open trail, the long brown path, free among majestic mountains.

(photo from Colorado Trail Foundation Facebook page)

Tentatively heading out in a couple of weeks!

Reports from the Colorado Trail Foundation Facebook page say that there is still quite a bit of snow on the Collegiate West segments of the trail. But, reports also indicate that it is melting rapidly. So, I have tentative plans to begin my trek sometime during the week of July 21 - but will hold off longer if the snows remain deep. These photos are what I am looking to avoid, as slogging through long stretches of deep snow is not what I have in mind for this trek!

What I'll Be Carrying in my Backpack for the Colorado Trail: Ranger Dave's Videos

Here are a couple of short videos on the gear I will be taking with me as I hit the new 80-mile Collegiate West segments of the Colorado Trail in a few weeks.

So I can enjoy the miles without so much weight on my back, I lean towards packing as light as I can. I will have just what I need to be safe, and then use my head so I don't get myself into sketchy situations.

Still Lots of High Country Snow

From the Colorado Trail Foundation Facebook page (highlighting mine): CONDITIONS KNOWN JUNE 26. Though there's more info in other postings, here's the SUMMARY. Growing list cuz it's been melting, SNOW FREE are Segments 1-5, 11-14, 17-19, 27 & 28. PASSABLE SNOW reported in Segs 6, 7 & 20, meaning we've heard users who've gotten through the remaining snow report that they didn't consider it to be dangerous or brutally exhausting. No other segments are known to be snow free or passable, but it might be there are some and we just haven't heard yet. Additional reports suggest that the high elevations on Seg 8 and Collegiate West 01-05 might retain significant snow until mid July; they may be the last to melt and become passable for most users. MINOR DETOUR in Seg 13 mile 0.2 is only 1/4 mile long and well signed. BRIDGE OUT in Seg 19 Cochetopa Creek; you'll need to be cautious and ford the creek. Hope this helps. Have a great trip on The Colorado Trail.

So, my plan to not hit the trail until the latter part of July sounds like a good one, as I do not feel like post-holing across miles of wet snow while I backpack these mountains. Meanwhile, we've had a few days of very hot temps, so some of that snow must be melting as I type these words.  

Click here for Colorado Trail Foundation Facebook post!

When to Go, When to Go?

I've been looking at my schedule and have narrowed down when I will likely do this backpack to the last two weeks of July. As of now, I plan on doing the trek over around 8 days. This will be quite a bit less miles per day than I did back in 2010 and 2011 - by design, as I want a bit of an easier pace this time around. I was in Salida a week ago, and the looks of the high country which I'll be traversing on this hike still look pretty snowy, so I am figuring that by later July the snows will be much thinner. I must admit, I am beginning to feel some excitement for getting out there. Seeing photos like this one that I took in 2010, looking up into the high Collegiates where I'll be hiking, sure makes me itch to be out there in that high thin air.

Hitting the Trail Once Again for Nature Education

A few weeks ago, I found myself in front of a small group of people from around the country who had flown in for a retreat at the Horseshoe Lodge. I was presenting on my adventures along the Colorado Trail that I did a few years ago. It was a pleasure to relive the many miles of amazing scenery, sharing stories of the trail, and connecting the adventure to the reason behind it – to raise funds for MPEC’s Nature education programs.

 Last year, I got word through the Colorado Trail Foundation – the organization that stewards the trial – that the Colorado Trail was expanded to include 80 additional miles of trail through the spectacular Collegiate Peaks, home to a dozen of the state's 14,000-foot mountains. The new "Collegiate West" forms a western complement to the classic 80-mile stretch of Colorado Trail on the eastern side of the Collegiate Peaks from Twin Lakes, southwest of Leadville, to south of Monarch Pass, southwest of Salida.

It did not take long for me to come up with the idea that I needed to hike this new 80-mile stretch. Along with learning about the new section of trail, last year presented MPEC with some budget challenges associated with some unexpected expenses while dealing with cuts from some funding sources. The fact is that many local non-profits have not felt any significant improvements since the economy took a nosedive several years ago.

Since the original Colorado Trail Fund-Raising effort was a success, it only makes sense that this new section of trail is providing another opportunity for MPEC. So, sometime this summer, I will be backpacking these new 80 miles with the intention of raising money for MPEC’s Nature education programs. We have set a goal of raising $24,000 from the hike, which translates to $300 per mile. Please consider making a pledge to what we are calling Ranger Dave’s Collegiate West Fund-Raising Backpack for Nature Education. You can go to MPEC's website, click on the Help MPEC Grow icon on the lower right of the page, and then choose Ranger Dave’s Backpack as the donation category. Every penny that is raised will directly support MPEC’s programs that help children experience the wonders of Nature. Thanks so much!