hobolog :: Continental Divide Hike

I can resonate with this little ditty from Sidewinder:

one lone hiker
here I be
all by myself
on the CDT

my friends are all ahead
by a half day
I must getting closer
or so other people say

dreamt the past 2 nights
of playing in the water
think I’d go crazy
if it got much hotter

walkin’ into Cuba
can’t accept no ride
sun beatin’ down upon me
got no place to hide

caught up with the others
while they were chilin’ in a diner
plate of fries & grilled cheese
nothing could be finer

twenty some miles again
not bad for a stroll
but bein’ on the CDT
that’s the way we roll

Ann reminded me that this week a year passed since we set off from the Mexico border to hike the Continental Divide Trail. I feel a little guilty that the day slipped by without snapping me out of my busy work week to recognize it. It’s still very emotional thinking back to that first day of hiking, setting boldly off to make many mistakes and enrich our lives with unimagined experiences.

This year at least two dozen brave souls have announced their intention to hike 200 miles or more on the CDT, many of them probably as innocent as we were. I feel jealous, excited, and even a little protective of them. Several include links to their own websites, and a few have started online journals at trailjournals.com. I wish them all the best.

To my amazement, Jonathan Ley continues to produce a revision of his Continental Divide Trail Maps every year. For this set he sifted through hundreds of our scribbled-on maps and incorporated our more useful notes. I’d love to see these available as an online resource someday (currently he offers them on CD only).

When we started our honeymoon on the continental divide, and with it this topic on my web log, I never imagined how large an impact the log would have on our experience. Mostly I saw it as a way to record the experience and keep our friends and family up to date. As it turned out, I feel like this web log has been as much a part of our trip as our backpacks. It has provided opportunities that would never have been possible without it, and also presented unexpected problems.

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Near Boulder, WY

Reluctantly we bid goodbye to the Wind River Range. This will probably be our last day of backpacking on the trip. I think it marks the end of our honeymoon on the continental divide as well. We still plan to spend a week with Ann’s parents in Jackson, so the vacation will continue a little longer, but our heads are now filling with thoughts of resumes and job interviews. Next week we’ll draw our last breath of pressure-free air before plunging back into the world of jobs and housing. We have loved our life in the outdoors, but we’re both ready to begin living under a roof again. One thing, though, will remain the same for some time to come: we have no idea what to expect.

Near Boulder, WY

Again the morning is clear, but today we have to start our exit because Ann and I are low on food. My dad has plenty, even with his abundant generosity in sharing all his goodies with us. He has reminded us that a trip like this is not a through hike, and we could have afforded many more luxuries. I resolve not to make the same mistake again. So, with a longing glance at Pronghorn Peak, we start back west again.

Today the sky stays clear. We relax and talk as we make our way back to Little Divide Lake and set up camp. The lake becomes a perfect mirror as the sun goes down.

Near Boulder, WY

At last, dawn brings us a clear blue sky. We have a hearty breakfast and set off towards Dragon Head peak. By the time we reach the main western ridge there are big, dark clouds rolling by, but we persevere. There is fresh snow on the mountain that gets deeper as we climb. It makes the rock fields tricky. I’m ready for thunder to turn us around in our tracks at any time, but I hear none. It’s a pleasant surprise when we find ourselves on the chilly, snow covered summit. The eastern cliffs plunge down as if the mountain were chopped off at this point by a giant cleaver. We stay at least a few feet from the edge, but we have to get at least that close to peer down at Lee Lake. Across the valley a glacial lake sits quietly at 11,600 feet, the highest I recall ever seeing. Our peak is not the highest in the area at 12,200 feet, but none are more than a few hundred feet higher. It’s a spectacular place to be.

We decide to descend instead of attempting a traverse to 12,380-ft Pronghorn Peak. The weather seems too volatile for that. A cold wind has started up, making us glad to have a warm sweater and rain gear. The wind accompanies us all the way down, but never turns to rain. We have a celebratory dinner and good conversations back at camp.

Near Boulder, WY

It’s still overcast in the morning but not raining. It’s not peak bagging weather, but we need some activity so we break camp and pack along the trail a ways. After a couple of miles we reach my original destination for the trip, Lee Lake. A cold wind blows, and clouds slip between the high peaks. Cliffs rise dramatically up to Dragon Head and Pronghorn Peaks to the west.

Spats of rain hit us, but as we eat lunch at Rainbow Lake it looks like it might clear up. We decide to camp nearby at Sunrise Lake, where we still have a chance to climb Dragon Head and Pronghorn if the weather is clear tomorrow. The colorful sunset over the lake bodes well for that.

Near Pinedale, WY

We wake up to a white, snowy world. The cold, wet weather continues all day. We spend most of the day in our sleeping bags, or scurrying to get back to them. Ann and I resort to such pastimes as hangman, but never get desperate enough for tic-tac-toe.

Our minds begin to turn towards our approaching job hunt with some trepidation, but also excitement. We’re planning to start in Denver, where my dad is near and there are plenty of schools. I have failed to find work there in the past, however, and our imaginations range as far as New Zealand when picturing our next habitation.

Near Pinedale, WY

Today we travel across the ‘bench’ region of the Winds, where glaciers have left many lovely lakes. We pass the Lightning Lakes, then meet the Continental Divide Trail at Dream Lake. At Bob’s Lake we break for lunch, and a light rain starts to fall. The rain gets steadily heavier as we pass Sandpoint Lake.

When we reach Middle Fork Lake the rain lightens and we scout for a campsite. The rain returns before we have the tents up, with a cold wind. Ann and I manage to cook and eat dinner through the open doors of our tent.