Celebrating and Respecting Trail Communities

What a whirlwind few weeks on the road!

Hiking, hanging, talking, and celebrating…

After the hike through the Gila, I attended the Continental Divide Trail Coalition’s Trail Days festival in Silver City to host the first of my Intentional Hiking fireside chats.

A big thanks to Silver City Daily Press for covering the evening and capturing some of the sentiment shared by hikers and community members:

Discussion looks at building CDT Connections

Community members and hikers gathered around a campfire Saturday night at the old Silver City Waterworks to discuss building on the sense of community that draws people along the Continental Divide Trail to Grant County in particular.

The Waterworks opened to accommodate CDT hikers for Trail Days, with about 40 tents booked each night for camping.

Veteran hiker and original CDT ambassador Renee Patrick led the discussion focusing on the relationships between hikers and the communities and people along the trail. She is the founder of Intentional Hiking, which offers an online discussion series about various hiking-related themes.
One point of discussion was that hikers need to remember to be humble — they are just one of hundreds each year who make the trip from border to border.

Kristy Lopez, owner of Doc Campbell’s Post in Gila Hot Springs, said she tries to give hikers the benefit of the doubt, but sometimes it can be difficult.

“They say, ‘I hiked all the way from Mexico,’” Lopez said. “Two days ago there was a guy that came in, and I said, ‘That’s awesome. So did all the 12 other people on the porch.’”

But hikers have generally been helpful for her family business, she said.

“We wouldn’t be where we are now if it wasn’t for hikers sitting down with us and spending time to tell us what they need and what they don’t need,” Lopez said.

“I think we have to be humble and be thankful for what we have access to in the communities. Sometimes we forget that,” said hiker Mike “Just Mike” McClue. “It’s amazing to talk to the local people and understand the history. It’s not just about us.”

Michael Darrow, tribal historian for the Fort Sill Chiricahua Apache Warm Springs Tribe, agreed that hikers should know about the history of the land.

“For us, the whole thing is considered sacred land,” he said of the Gila region. “Historical events took place all along the way, and they were special to people in our tribe. Keep in mind some of the things that have taken place before, and it can have an influence on the way you think, the way you feel as you go through the area.”

Likewise, people in communities should get more involved with the CDT, Raul Turrieta said. Locals have gone to the Gila River and the Gila Wilderness for recreation for years, he said, but hiking has not been a big activity for people who live.

“We need to spend more time on hiking, because they don’t really understand how important the CDT is,” he said. “Next year, I would really like to get involved in stimulating the community and bringing in the Mining District also for them to come out and do a lot of hiking.”

Turrieta said it’s also important for hikers to share their experiences with youth to help them get interested.

Overall, the CDT is about connections, Patrick said, including the physical connection across the continent, connection to nature and connection to each other.

“That’s something that long-distance hiking has really helped me realize, is I’m connected to everything, I’m a part of everything,” she said. “Finding that connection is what’s so unique about what we do. It helps us understand that in a way that’s hard to do when we’re in our walls, roofs and Wi-Fi all the time.”

—JUNO OGLE

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Stay tuned…I plan to hold another discussion at PCT Days this August!

Gila Wilderness Day 4 – 11 miles

It was another cold lazy morning, meaning we didn’t emerge until there was sunlight light on our tents. I guess we’ve been lucky because some parts of this deep canyon don’t get sun until late in the morning.

Our first mile and a half went straight up and out of the canyon and my legs wanted to have at it, so I let them fly and we topped out the 1,000′ climb at a steady 3mph pace. I was feeling strong and fabulous 💃

The rest of the miles back to the car were mellow, and of course they seemed longer than we wanted them to be. After a quick lunch break where I enjoyed another of my tuna packets in half of a pepper (delicious!) the terrain changed from the quiet ponderosa pine forest to more of a scrubby hot desert where we saw cholla for the first time. Big cholla!

The miles stretched and expanded and with every thought of being done and enjoying a cold drink in the shade, the trail stretched out a little longer. Ooofta.

Finally we saw evidence of civilization and emerged at a trailhead a short while later.

At the car we took out my camp chairs, took off our shoes, and dug beers from the cooler. Even though the ice had melted, they were cold enough. Done!

But not done, I had made a reservation at the Gila Hot Springs, and on the way we stopped in Doc Campbell’s again and visited with the owner Kristy who would be participating in my presentation at Trail Days soon. We bought chips and sausages for camp, and made our way down a dusty road to our campsite.

Soaking helped set the miles we had just hiked, and the rest of the afternoon we chatted with our neighbors and let the warm waters work their magic.

Time for CDT Days!

Gila Wilderness – Day 3: 6 miles

From the tent I yell: “What if we just hike to the river?”

I could hear Allgood’s mind working from his tent 20 yards away.

We had been discussing loops and river sections all to add up to 15ish miles of hiking tomorrow. Why 15? Well, cause we said that’s what we would hike out here. The reality? We could do what we want.

The map showed so many trails and so many options for a four-day hike that it was almost overwhelming. From the spot we camped last night we probably had 10 options for routes to hike back to the car in another two days. I was thinking about Allgood’s fishing rod in the side of his pack. Add on top the effort of permits and finding the right tackle, and this was something he appeared to want to do, but we hadn’t made the time to do yet.

“I love the way you think She-ra,” he called from his tent.

Alright, beach day!

We had fourish gentle ponderosa pine forest miles to walk and almost two miles of switchbacks 1,000′ down to the Middle Fork of the Gila. That’s the CDT baby!

There was no reason to move until the sun came, so we didn’t. Later after some stretching and slow packing we set off about 9am.

“I don’t usually hike like this,” Allgood said once on the trail. Allgood is a notorious mile-grinder and regularly hikes some crazy long miles on his trips. “But I could get used to it!” He chirps with glee.

“To the River!”

Yes we could find 15 miles to hike and then another 15 back to the car because we said we would, or we could hike to water where Allgood could have the time to fish, I could read, and we could chill. Go hiking and relax? Six miles today and 11 to the car tomorrow. No decision, really.

Right before the drop into the river canyon we see a thru-hiker coming our way. We stop. We have to stop! Kid was zooming along the CDT before he went to college in the fall. He was clocking 30s and feeling good until a brush with a swollen ice-melt river yesterday, and now he was on a high water alternate above the Gila. That had been part of our decision too, one of our route options included hiking down the Midde Fork of the Gila for eightish miles, but my full-face river dunk and slow progress on the river miles yesterday led us away from that choice. We had both hiked up the Middle Fork on our thru-hikes…and the water was cold.

Anyhoo…it was fun to talk to Kid for a bit and think ahead to all the adventures he would have. Allgood and I have been telling CDT stories for days now…

Once off again we pick our way down the countless switchbacks to the water below. My knee is bruised from my slip and rock encounter in the river yesterday, but it’s more the 46-year-old body I’ve been motoring around this week that had me feeling ready to sit down. That and the three hours I’ve gone without a snack. Being the same age, Allgood and I regularly chat about middle-aged body aches. Hiking while aging is a new experience for both of us. We can remember when we were thru-hiking in our 20s. That wasn’t that long ago, was it?

The river!

That beautiful aquamarine blue river.

The trail guides us down to the most perfect camping spot ever, and it’s a given: we will be doing some hard-core chilling.

Fishing
Snacking
Reading
Napping
Snacking
Chatting
Eating

With the evening came the cold, so we made a fire.

Neither of us usually have campfires, but we could and it was cold. Fire! Due to the many years of fire building and tending in my various outdoor careers, the fire stoker me comes out and I happily poke at the pit the rest of the night.

Oh, one delicious highlight from the hike so far has been Allgood’s Cipino fish soup. He and another hiking friend (Drop-n-Roll), bought a freeze drier and vacuum sealer and were making their own meals. His technique? Make something yummy, and freeze dry it.

Eggplant Parmasan, Spagetti and Meatballs, and Cipino soup were some excellent meals so far.

YUM.

Gila Wilderness- Day 2: 14 miles

The rushing water played DJ for sunrise, and that first long ray of sun was an event.

I had been up before sunrise, both Allgood and I went about our mornings from the warm cocoons of our tents. It was too frosty out to fully emerge; we would start hiking in the sun.

It was also safer. We probably crossed the river 30 times yesterday afternoon, and would at least 60 more times today. That water was recently snow, and with the deep cold shade of the canyon, hypothermia wasn’t off the table without the sun. I would have been in trouble later on when I slipped and went into the river face first, but I popped right back up and was able to keep my faculties in the sun.

Yeah, this wouldn’t be a trail to hike in inclement weather or even a cloudy day. Wet feet all day long.

River miles were slower, too. We often had to scout a bit and push our way through willows to make a safe crossing. And even then: an almost full dunk for me, and another slip and crack of the knee on a rock. Allgood faired much better, aside from the exhaustion that comes from 8ish miles of this type of hiking.

So eight miles of cold, yet eye popping wonder later, we were just about ready to cross the river a final time and climb up to the plautau above when we see a group of blue tents. We wave hello and meet a high-school semester group from New Hampshire that is spending the year on cool trips and adventures like this around the country. Wow.

I love seeing the trails get used. Love it!

We lunch on the far side and I dry off the last of the damp immersion from my clothes and prepare for a climb and stong winds. We decided to climb out of the West Fork canyon at a reassuring spot called Hell Hole.

The climb was moderate though, and took us up into a lovely ponderosa pine forest. A recent fire had burned away all the undergrowth, and the trail was so cruisy that I call it, “PCT dreamy.”

Then, we took a right at a trail junction down into Prior Canyon and the slight downslope of the tread allowed us to literally flow down. That was a help because we were both tired from the day. Listening to music on the way down greased our strides.

And a cold wind…

Water! Water was the indication that we could start looking for a camp spot, and we quickly decided to stop where we were.

The cold descended quickly, so we made short order of dinner to crawl into our nests.

Gila Wilderness – Day 1: 5 miles

I had a plan. All this driving would be worth it.

The Continental Divide Trail Coalition holds their kickoff weekend in Silver City, New Mexico every year, and 2024 marked their 10 year anniversary as a trail gateway community. That means: PARTY!

You may remember I’ve attended the CDT Kickoff before…I believe this is my fourth, and since I was in the neighborhood for the eclipse, I decided to add it to my spring adventure list.

I had a few days of unscheduled time (swoon) before the festivities would begin, and I wanted to hike. Just north of Silver City, the CDT splits into the Black Range or the Gila River Alternate. In 2015, I took the Gila River route up the Middle Fork (amazing), and Kirk and I packrafted the Middle Fork down in March 2020 (the “You Can’t Plan A Pandemic” trip).

So I immediately thought of hiking the Black Range south into Silver City, it was the unknown! I could get a shuttle up the trail and then walk back to town, but fires and lack of water made that route a challenge.

After talking to my pal Allgood (Mr. Whitney LaRuffa), who was also going to CDT Days, we decided to hike a few days in the Gila instead.

For this trip, we would walk up the West Fork for 10ish miles, and up, over, and back down the Middle Fork for a loop of 45ish miles. Of course, spring floods would have to be factored in…floods took out the trails almost every year, so I had mapped out options, and our options had options. We would figure it out.

And! This would be my first time hiking with Allgood. We have been friends for, oh, about 15 years now. He was the CDT Trail Ambassador for his 2016 thru-hike after I was for my 2015 thru. He then came up to hike the Oregon Desert Trail, but again, we didn’t hike together. Add in the fact that he is my birthday brother (born a few days after me in June 1977) and had helped groundtruth the Blue Mountains Trail at the same time I was out there in 2020 (see: The Intrepid Trio), this hike had to happen. Allgood had been back to Trail Days almost every year and often tacked on a hike into the Gila or Black Range; hiking before CDT Days is tradition for him.

We planned four days of luxurious 15-mile days in two of the most beautiful canyons in the world.

I drove into town after dropping Cindy off at the El Paso Airport and straight to Bob’s. Bob had been Allgood’s boss when he worked for Triple Crown Hats (the very hat company that made our the Oregon Desert Trail hats). I had also designed some national park logos for their line, so it was wonderful to see him again; Bob very graciously hosted us for the night, and after I oogled his beautiful adobe home, we went out for dinner and beers.

We drove up to Santa Clara to Open Space, a new thru-hiker owned brewery. I will probably get my facts wrong, but Highlight and Brew Hiker met on their CDT thru-hike a few years ago, fell in love, and decided to return to Silver City to start a brewery. My people! We enjoyed a frosty one in the courtyard while a band played, and kids ran around and around us in a “the parents aren’t watching” delirium.

Next, we stopped at a wood fired pizza place that probably had the coolest vibes ever. It was another music venue with several stages and an amazing view into the darkening desert sky.

My people!

I love this place.

Silver City is a community of artists and eclectic personalities. My artist friend Erika lives here with her bike-maker partner, and I’d be seeing her this trip too, but first hiking.

On the way out of town, we swung by to see Teresa (the ED of the CDTC) and then drove in the long, windy road into the Gila. We swung by Doc Campbell’s a resupply stop for CDT hikers and perused the store. I had been in touch with Kristy (a new owner since I had hiked through in 15) because I had asked her to participate in a talk I was doing that weekend (more on that later). We were chatting when I spy someone new who had walked in the store.

Nah, it wouldn’t be her.

I look again.

I think it’s her.

“Renee!”

It’s her!

It was Joanna, a coworker from the Oregon Natural Desert Association! She had left ONDA about the same time as I had last year and moved to Albuquerque to work on water conservation in the Colorado River Basin. A hard-hitting bad-ass conservation job if I’ve ever heard of one.

We hugged and caught up. She was a fellow backpacker, too, and had been down for the weekend exploring the Gila Cliff Dwellings and hiking. I love it! My people!

We drove to the West Fork trailhead. The water had spiked a day or so ago but looked doable. I say doable because much of the walking in both canyons would be in the water. Countless river crossings from one bank to the other created a gauntlet of challenges if water was high. When we got to the first crossing, it looked doable.

The highest the crossings got was mid-thigh, and we could almost always see the bottom in the slowly green-blue moving water. After maybe the 5th crossing, we met some backpackers hiking out. We were able to get beta on the trail ahead. Apparently the crossings get increasingly deep and sketch, but we think they were also crossing during the river’s spike, and a cooling trend in the next day would hopefully slow down the snow melt for us…it could be a perfect time to hike this trail.

The canyon walls will have to speak for themselves:

We meandered in about five miles before seeing a camp in a big clearing with an incredible view of rocks that were layered and puzzled into a maze of pillars.

Delight.

Big Bend National Park

2,500 miles later, I was ready to walk. Sitting in the car for that long brings its own aches and pains, and I was ready for an ache of a different kind. The ache that comes from climbing, sun, or big miles. Well, it won’t be miles on this trip… it’s hard to get in miles within this National Park, mainly because there is no water.

My friend Cindy and I had planned this trip to follow an eclipse chasing mission, and had successfully crossed the state of Texas once to catch a break in the clouds for totality on April 8 near Dallas, and crossed it again to visit the far reaches of this park.

Boot Spring sat in a nest of short backcountry campsites, and I had worked and reworked potential routes between the camps to get some miles in and hit the water once a day on our trip, doubling back on some trails, but alas, when we arrived we heard the spring was dry, so we decided to hike in, then out (back to the visitors center where we had parked) to fill up water bladders, then back in. The things you do in the desert! We weren’t willing to carry water for three days, so this would be the deal.

Before hiking in we spent the morning playing tourist…the fossils exhibit was quite impressive…many large dinosaurs we had never heard of had been found in the area, and we also drove to the Rio Grande part of the park and took a short hike to the river, tucked in the steep cliffs of the US and Mexico border. The water was shallow, but I’d still float it, and would have to do so on a return trip some time.

The Chisos Mountains were essentially the heart of the park, and their craggy volcanic hulk presided over the rest of the expanse. It was also the most popular, and after our short auto tour to the Mexican border, we had to wait in a line of cars for a parking spot to open up at the visitors center. One out, one in. One out, one in. It wasn’t a small area either. There was a campground, lodge, restaurant, store, visitors center, and backcountry hiking trails, but I expect we weren’t the only ones taking in the desert after the eclipse, or trying to find our slice of National Park before the heat got too much. From May on the park empties out…the sun is just too good at its job in the summer.

We headed up the 1,000′ climb late in the afternoon. We had less than three miles to hike. When I say short hikes, I mean it! Tomorrow, we would hike out and back in for tenish miles total. But despite the short miles, the mountains rewarded us. We would camp beneath pinnicals, and their pillars usher us up the trail.

The trails are nicely shaded and we meet lots of day hikers on their way down from climbing the 7,825′ Emory Peak. Camp is lovely. I plopped down on my tyvek, and Cindy went exploring. I put a big dent in my book…Christina (one of my most excellent trail angels from the Blue Mountains Trail four years ago) had recently recommended The Secret Knowledge of Water by Craig Childs when she heard I would be doing some hiking in the SW this spring (BTW, check out Christina’s new podcast Kinward! I’ll be on it sometime this summer).

Cindy came back from her wanderings with reports of copious amount of TP in the underbrush. I became incensed. Why would a National Park with established backcountry campsites one needed to reserve six months in advance have no latrines? Each campsite had a bear box, each campsite was used heavily during the season, so why did each campsite have a dirth of dirty toilet paper fanning out in all directions? We had a long conversation about Leave No Trace and simple little things that park managers could do to encourage proper waste disposal. We were protecting the wildlife from our food (bear boxes) why weren’t we protecting them from our poop?

The night was quiet, no animals bothered us for our crumbs.

The next morning we inventoried the night: both of us had slept poorly….it was too quiet? But we had a mission, and it involved hiking back down the 1,000′ we had climbed yesterday to get water and climb back up.

Again, we passed throngs of day hikers on their Emeory Peak quest, and we were back at the visitors center linkedy split. Then, onto a different trail to climb back up… this time all the way up to the southern shoulder of Emory.

I took a break up top with a nice man from Salida, CO. Inevitably, we talked about our mountain towns, and when I mentioned Bend, he asked if housing prices were as inflated as they were in Salida. If, by inflated, you mean a cheap fixer upper house is $500,000, I asked? He said, “Yep,” same for his town…the houses that were now half a million were $60,000 when he moved there. ☹️ And that, my friends, is why I’ll never own a home. This world is whack!

The next section of trail was quite lovely with shade trees and dappled sunshine filtering through. The trail wound around and dropped to the dry Boot Spring Canyon before climbing up again into a burn area. I had no idea when it had burned, but there was a permanent sign announcing the trail was closed beyond our campsite destination. Stange, there had been no closed sign on the other end of the trail we had passed earlier. The website had mentioned seasonal closures for nesting raptors. I can respect that! But a permanent sign??? My spidy senses tingle whenever there are inconsistencies in the trail or trail resources….this could be a job for She-ra! The trail fixer! The good thing about my trail consulting company was that I saw opportunity everywhere. An overwhelming amount of opportunity! Maps that are wrong, resources that are missing or confusing, the list goes on and on… I’ve had a wonderful array of projects come in my door over the last year, but I could take on more. I was hoping for a day when my services were so in demand that I had projects lined up for years and could employ a cadre of  subcontractors to help me with the work. One day! So if any of you, dear readers, know of a trail near you that needs some help, send them my way! 😉

When I got up to the East Rim where we had our next camp, the park stretched out before us into Mexico. Amazing. We sat on the edge and soak it in for a good while before I made camp and almost finished the ebook I had started yesterday (Hummingbird Salamander by Jeffery VanderMeer).

Dinner was pizza. No really!

The hike out the next morning was quite pleasant, and a bit of cloud cover made for some dramatic skies.

We had a reservation to stay another night in the park, but Cindy was flying out the next day, and it had been a week since my last shower, so we decided to forgoe that reservation and head to a hotel instead. The next chapter of my road trip and backpacking adventures would continue in New Mexico… more to come!

Idaho Centennial Trail Day 7: 15 miles (101 miles total)

Rain for that last few hours of my tent time. Rain means it’s warmer at least…

Things get wet, mainly because I’m careless and it doesn’t matter. I’ll be warm and dry tonight, soaking in a hot tub and eating pizza. Yes, I do have a post hike routine, and it most definitely involves a pepperoni and mushroom pizza.

It’s hard to hike the last day and not be completely consumed with thoughts of not walking. I could have walked more miles yesterday to give me a short day to the car, but with my goal to head to Cold Springs Winery, which opens at noon, I wanted to give myself something to do this morning. I would not have the patience to get there before noon with the level of funk I was emmenating. I was greasy and foul. Visions of a shower and soak danced around in my head all morning.

The rest of the Birds of Prey Area was lovely. I didn’t see any birds, but then again…rain. the drips had dried up during the first hour of my hike, and it turned out to be a lovely day. I stripped off some layers, and for the first time since day 1, wore only my baselayer. #winning

Then the farm roads….long miles of farm roads. A momma and baby cow had gotten out of their pasture somehow, and I inadvertently forced them farther and farther from home. Fences on both sides kept them pinned in the road, and they just wouldn’t listen to me when I tried to clearly explain that I wasn’t going to hurt them, that they could wait for me to pass and then turn around and go home. Finally, some heavy machinery made them pause, and they did pass me and high tailed it towards their sweet bails of breakfast hay.

Blossoms were suddenly everywhere! Blossoms in people’s yards, that is….I didn’t take any observations for iNaturalist here, all in all, my contributions were almost nill, but it did get the idea of it rolling around in my head. I can research projects any place I plan to be hiking, and hopefully, over time, I’ll have some worthy things to contribute, and maybe I’ll even learn the names of some of these things.

The pavement is some of the hardest walking. It really feels like a trudge. I step off the road for the numerous trucks that swing around these corners and cross over the Snake River. I wonder what Idaho’s commitment to white pickup trucks is? 🤔 That’s about all I see out here.

On the outskirts of Hammett, a white pickup pulls over and says I’m the first Idaho Centennial Trail hiker they have seen this year. This lovely couple lives in town and has hiked the section I just completed a few times. How lovely to be acknowledged! No one else this morning has so much as given me a sideways glance!

I trudge on, crossing over the interstate and finally to my car, parked at the BLM Guard Station. I made a few phone calls to get allowance to park there, and was grateful for the permission even though the station was empty this time of year.

I wet wipe myself a bit to knock the funk down, then put on jeans and a sweatshirt. Bliss!!! I head up the road to the winery, and even though it’s after noon, the door is locked. A UPS driver says the owner should be back soon, and I sit in my car and make a hotel reservation for Boise. Half an hour later, and no one has shown up. I want nothing more than to stay and toast the hike with a lovely glass of wine, but the two granola bars I’ve eaten for the 15-mile hike burned off long ago, and I’m getting hangery

I start the car and head to a shower, hot tub, and pizza.

Thank you for the week, Idaho Centennial Trail! You were a bit of a crabby beast, but I really needed this week of walking, no matter the temps. Even though I didn’t get to do much basking (other than those four minutes at break the other day), my grumbling was overwhelmed by my need to be alone in nature. In fact, the first four days I didn’t have cell reception were blissful. I could have gone longer, and think I will next time. Being disconnected is a real luxury these days. I want more of it. Overall, I’ve been taking fewer photos and posting much less on social media. The writing, well I do that for me, and if you are all reading it, find it interesting, great! But the need to be seen all the time is waining…probably because so much of what I’m doing in my businesses now involves heavy self-promotion…so I want to hide out more. Find the balance!

For now, I’ll close the chapter on this ICT hike, although I see myself getting more involved in the trail, too. My friend Clay Jacobson is Mr. ICT and I want to touch base with him and see if there are things I can do to help out. I am thinking about making the map set and data I made available to other hikers…so stay tuned for more deets on that, and for all of you who want to get involved, check out the Idaho Trails Association for a ton of trail work and other opportunities to give back. I have a lot of miles left to hike in Idaho, and those miles need some love!

Idaho Centennial Trail Day 6: 12.5 miles (86 miles)

Things got icy overnight. I could tell because I wasn’t sleeping. My fault…

I woke up having to pee, as usually happens at least once a night out here, and I blearily look at my phone and see it’s 3 something. I get back in the tent, cocoon myself up once again, and don’t get back to sleep. I decided I might as well get up and have some coffee and start writing. These days my writing and coffee process can take upwards of three hours. I’ll write, lay back down for a while, have another cup of coffee, nap, write, eat some oatmeal, etc. It’s a really luxurious and drawn-out process at 4am in my tent, so getting started earlier isn’t necessarily crazy, I might just have longer to nap before the hiking starts.

I made my coffee and started writing when I looked at the time on my phone again: 23:00. That wasn’t a 3. It was a 23!  Nooooooooooo. I’m one of those people who likes to keep their clocks on military time…so 23 was 11pm, I had already consumed about half of my very stong cup of coffee. Doh.

I tried to sleep more. I really did, but the coffee was running through my body, waking things up. My water bottles were getting icy, too. Maybe I could have ignored the deeper chill in the air if I had stayed asleep, but now I was cognizant of the dropping temps and was missing my bigger down coat and down booties. Why, oh, why didn’t I throw them in???

But one benefit of getting up in the middle of the night was seeing my progress for the first time. There were lights on the horizon! So far, there has been no light and no humans out in the desert. I was getting somewhere!

Back to the night. I made it through, but knew I would be dragging today.

I walk, I wander, I plod along the dirt roads. It really is warmer today, and I don’t need all my layers on to walk, just half of them, which feels quite wonderful. I have another trip and hike coming up soon, this time in the southwest, and I spend some time daydreaming about how warm it’s going to be down there. Visions of sweat and sunburn dance through my head….soon, hopefully!

I cross over the main road that Dennis and I drove in on almost a week ago, and I’m officially in the last bit of my section hike. The next few miles will be through the Sayler Creek Air Force Range, where planes practice things, then the route dips into the Snake River Birds of Prey Area. Some planes play overhead most of the afternoon, and I wonder if I have become part of their training exercises. Spot the hiker, track the hiker? There is nothing to hide me from their sights.

I start down the very gradual old road that will bring me to the fertile Snake River valley south of Hammett. I’ll have a quick 15-mile hike to my car tomorrow. I don’t want to camp too close, cause people and private land, cars and lights, so I hang back and almost finish the book I’m reading before the light dims and the 3am start feels so heavy on my eyes.

Idaho Centennial Trail Day 5: 18.4 miles (73.5 miles total)

I woke up to more snow and partially frozen water bottles and thought of my down booties, at home. Ok, maybe I would have swapped out some layers if given a chance.

I didn’t want to move until the sun was actually out, and it was for a few minutes. I could feel that today might actually warm up some, the the clouds seemed much more benign.

I walk a quick five miles to Clover Creek and a reliable water source. I move quickly though and my excitement at a natural water source dimmed when i saw the 200 cows wading in the creek. I should have gotten water upstream.

Up into the wind for lunch where I tucked myself between the sagebrush to find any kind of windbreak.

Wind. Really really cold wind.

The afternoon was overshadowed by the piercingly cold wind. A daydream started that featured a hotel hot tub at the end of this hike. I bet I can make that dream come true.

I reached my water cache, called it a day, and tried to get out of the wind.

Idaho Centennial Trail Day 4: 16.2 miles (55.1 miles)

I’m finding my way back. Hello self.

Each day peels off heavy layers of the other life. The life that has deadlines and commitments,  goes grocery shopping and has to make appointments. The self I find out here is different. She is getting older, getting better, but also more me than ever. Does that make sense?

I start the 1,000′ climb out of the canyon with this song today.

Slow and steady up the grade, and something clicks into place: the climb…the flow. I found it.

My legs start floating my body and heavy water-ladened pack up the grade, and the music is banging, and it is fabulous.

I tend to do better on the climbs and here I am, finally feeling this walking thing on a long and protracted 1,000′ climb. Ok, let’s go!

Up top I transition to chacos. Over the years I have found that chaos are a superb dirt road walking choice for my feet. They love it. The air dries out the one linering hot spot, my toes wiggle with glee, and the cold air doesn’t give them any bother…except to maybe give them more vigour.

Have I said “let’s go!” Yet?

It was a morning of smooth and silky miles where my brain sat back and watched the world move by as my body walked and danced down the road. If there isn’t a dirt road dance, did you even hike?

I tried to read the sky today but finally gave up. There was too much movement. The dark clouds full of rain and snow were intermingled in the sky so that it could be sunny and sideways snowing at the same time. What was inevitable was the snow, sun, and bitter, bitter cold.

At the first large patch of sun, I stopped for a morning break. Maybe the sun would ward off the biting cold enough so that I could to stay still for a few minutes. And it worked! I could feel the vitamin D coursing through my veins, or whatever happens when the skin sees the sun for the first time in a while. Basking might have happened. Then, four minutes later, it started snowing. I packed up and kept moving.

By this time, I had already gotten pummeled by a few of the snow storms. They came in fast and hot…only lasting five or ten minutes, but wow, when they hit… I would have to cover half my face to protect it from the sharp stinging flakes. Then it would stop, and the sun would come out, and the snow would melt, and the dirt would get sticky on my chacos for a minute before it dried out again.

Repeat.

I found another of those sunny patches for lunch. The very satisfying lunch I’ve been having this week is a garlic nann with hummus and a packet of hickory smoked tuna on top. Delicious!

Then the storm. I covered up with my tyvek (I usually sit on my tyvek at every break…I’m a dirt sitter, but the tyvek keeps me a bit cleaner…and is waterproof!) and wait it out.

It made for some stunning skies today…so dramatic.

My head was down for much of the afternoon, hiding my face away from the biting wind, so I didn’t get to take in a lot of my surroundings, but I did see a few more pronghorn, no people. The birds though! Every day there are more meadowlarks.

I am contributing to several iNaturalist projects on this trip. In an effort to be intentional on this hike, I searched for iNaturalist projects in the Idaho desert and came up with many more than expected. I joined 5 or 6, although there are overlapping studies going on.

Two of them you may be interested in: the Idaho Flora project and Idaho Amphibian and Reptile project. I will take photos of flowers for the flora one; that data gets reviewed by the Ray Davis Herbarium and Idaho Museum of Natural History. Frogs and toads? Those observations are for the curator of herpetology, again at the Natural History Museum.

Cool, right? But I haven’t seen any reptiles, and just one type of flower. The cold and snow are taking a toll on the number of my observations.

Back to the walking.

I was reaching the end of my desire to walk for the day. The desire to sit was growing. Sit and snack and read. These were the other elements of backpacking that I loved: the chillaxing.

I found a patch of ground in a sagebrush neighborhood. As soon as I got tucked in, another storm rolled in. Then sun, and repeat. It’s a perfect time to read.

The book? I downloaded several books, and the one that is hitting a chord on this trip is Pachinko by Min Jin Lee.

Dinner was provided by Itacate Foods, dessert by Stroopwaffle.


P.S. thank goodness I brought my old lady stick roller….the ghost of my former plantar fasciitis past is visiting,  and I’ve been rolling out my calves and shins to keep him at bay.