Colorado Trail/Continental Divide Trail 2017: Cumbres Pass to Wolf Creek Pass (August 2, to August 7 2017)

Woke up to a dry tent, maybe only the second time that had happened on the hike.

I think this is the subalpine fir, one of the largest I saw on the hike.

Looking at beetle killed forest into New Mexico.

Storms arriving again.

Dead trees as far as the eye can see. This would be the theme for the next couple of weeks in the San Juans.

Picture does no justice. this was one of the most fantastic mountain springs I had ever seen.

Variegated Columbine (note the yellow coloring on leaves)

Completely random stone arch next to trail. Moosie and I both commented how one of our favorite characteristics of the San Juans were its strange, seemingly random geological features.

OJ and Moosie hike through a wind blasted talus slope.

Stunning view looking south from the Wolf Creek Pass ski area

Wolf Creek Pass

Once again, as I sit on the couch sipping hot coffee on a cool, rainy autumn morning in Maryland, the trials and tribulations, the highs and lows of the Colorado and Continental Divide Trail seem far, far away. The difficulty of hiking from Cumbres Pass to Wolf Creek Pass back in August is a distant memory. All I see now is nice pictures.

Thankfully, I have my trail journal to look back on and read, and maybe re-experience part of the reality. Truth be told, The first couple of days hiking north from Cumbres Pass were the most difficult for me the entire hike, and it was the first time on a hike I think I really wanted to just quit. If I had a magic button that I could have pushed and gone back home on the spot, I would have pushed it. Let me just say that Moosie was the most patient, calm, and laid back hiking partner a person could ask for. I tend to get especially moody on the trail, especially when the weather is bad. My moods mirror the weather, and when its storming, I have a real hard time staying positive. When hiking alone, I just curse the situation, put my head down and keep going. When I'm hiking with someone else, unfortunately, they have to hear it. Try as I might to keep it to myself, it inevitably starts spilling out. So here is a thank you to Moosie for putting up with my bullshit during this section.

During this section, I also learned (again!) that "it's not all about you." Perhaps this was the most important lesson of the trip. Moosie and I commented how Colorado owed us nothing, certainly not a sunny hiking vacation.  How arrogant of me to think that I deserved nice weather. After this realization hit home, I tried to be more thankful and appreciative of the rain, and Colorado's bipolar weather emotions.

All that said, the section was stunningly beautiful. We ran into one other hiker during this section, an older hiker named OJ who was section hiking parts of the Continental Divide Trail. He seemed as exasperated as I was with the weather, and we would cross paths twice a day, usually in the morning when Moosie and I were breaking down camp, and then we would pass him in the evening when he had set up camp. He always seemed surprised to see us again, but I think we were all glad to have someone to share the experience of this section with. Otherwise, we had the wilderness mostly to ourselves which was a welcomed contrast to the Colorado Trail.

The things that I remember most about this section besides the weather, was a plateau where I considered the place where we entered the San Juans. We had been slowly climbing all morning during the hike when we entered a fantastic high mountain plateau. Weather had finally cleared for the afternoon and it was just vividly beautiful. Another place I remember most was a spot Moosie and I called the magical valley. Here were the most vivid wildflowers we had seen so far, some of the most rugged mountain scenery we had seen, and one of the finest mountain springs I had ever drank from. There were also large elk herds here, and the morning we woke up there, I unzipped the vestibule of my tent and ate breakfast while watching the elk feed on grasses on the sunny hillside.

Moosie and I also had an epic bushwhack during a rather extended 7 hour rain/thunderstorm. The trail took us high over an exposed pass that was getting hammered by lightning and thunder. We tried waiting out the storm, instead of heading over the pass.  After about 45 minutes of standing next to a tree trying to hide from the wind and becoming borderline hypothermic, we decided to bushwhack around the mountain and meet up with the trail somewhere on the other side. It would require a few miles of bushwhacking and eventually some jeep road travel if executed properly. It was a risk, but eventually it paid off. I learned a lot of respect for elk during this bushwhack, as Moosie and I followed elk trails through the forest before finally meeting up with the jeep road. Rain finally subsided around 8:00 that evening. Moosie and I camped that night, soaked, cold, and exhausted, but with a feeling of accomplishment.

Another observation during this section was the shockingly high number of dead trees. Beetles have absolutely devastated the Engleman Spruce population in the San Juans. Moosie and I entered valley after valley of dead trees as far as the eye could see. Some valleys I would say had 75% to 90% dead trees. The ancient wind blown spruce on top of the passes were also all dead or beginning to die. What it means for the San Juan ecosystem I don't really know. I would imagine the potential for huge fires sometime in the future. What happened to the animals here I don't really know. What will the forest look like here? Will the mountains turn into grasslands? The pictures above tell the tale I think. As we made our way north, the dead trees continued all the way until we reached the town of Silverton, CO.

Finally, Moosie and I reached Wolf Creek Pass on August 8th after camping the night before near the ski area with views of the highway down below. We would hitch a ride with an 73 year old retired teacher living in an RV who drove us 20 miles or so to Pagosa Springs where Moosie and I would resupply and prepare for the next leg of the journey. We had taken a beating, but learned some valuable lessons I think. For me personally, I still wasn't in the mind frame I wanted to be, but was getting closer. I always say it takes about a month on trail for the mind, body, and spirit to unite. This was about the three week period, and there was still fantastic trail awaiting us. After resupplying in Pagosa Springs, the infamous Weminuche wilderness awaited...