hobolog :: Continental Divide Hike

We’re now down to just our backpacks and some supplies we will leave or mail to ourselves later. My pack with no food or water weighs 27.1 lb, Ann’s is 25.2 lb. I hope we can reduce both weights after some trail experience, but I’m not too upset with these initial weights. We have listed and weighed almost everything that we will carry at any point on the trip.

• List of pack contents and other ‘worn’ gear
• List of items in our ‘drift box’ that we mail ahead to ourselves
• List of items in our ‘extras box’ that can be added to supply packages

All of this information is also in our master checklist excel spreadsheet.

The time for planning is over, and the time to act has arrived. Today we tried to accomplish all our leftover tasks in downtown Denver without the car, which we left with Sarah yesterday. We acquired some books to read, replaced lost sunglasses, bought more waterproof bags, suspended the car insurance, printed our itinerary, and mailed letters. It seemed like the more we tried to do, the longer the list got. Problems will always remain, but now we must accept them and move on.

At 5:30 am we’ll get up, pack the backpacks, and get on a bus headed for Sante Fe. The next post will either be from there, or the continental divide!

We’re sitting at the bus station in Colorado Springs! I can’t believe it. I ran to get breakfast burritos when the bus stopped here, and when I came back the driver was unloading our bags. I can’t blame him for not letting us back on – we’d already made him late!

It was agony watching the bus pull away without us, knowing we’d miss our offer for free massages this afternoon, but suddenly it got much worse. I remembered I’d left my solar panel charging some batteries in the window! That thing is the object of so much of my hope and effort, I nearly cried.

The lady here called the next bus station and asked them to board the bus to look for it. I have my fingers crossed!

This will probably be my last post from a ‘plugged in’ computer! We’re at Peter Gould’s house in Sante Fe. Our solar panels were rescued in Pueblo by a very busy but capable Greyhound employee named Terry. That was a big relief, and I look forward to my first attempt to send a post from the trail.

We did miss some of Ann’s friends here because of my blunder, including Kathleen, who had offered us free pre-hike massages. My apologies to everyone who was expecting us in the afternoon.

I noticed that my emailed posts get stamped with Hong Kong time. No time to fix it now, so I’ll probably just note the local time in my posts. Also, thanks to everyone for the supporting comments! I probably won’t be able to read them very often from here on out, but they’re appreciated.

Today we head to Silver City, tomorrow the trailhead!

Near South Hidalgo, NM

I wake up to a loud alarm at 6 am in the Palace Hotel in Silver City. I kiss Ann and she mumbles “no,” and turns over. I dress and venture out for coffee, but Silver City appears to be closed on Sunday. This doesn’t improve Ann’s mood.

Peter sniffs out a place to eat with seemingly random driving, and we load up on huevos rancheros. The coffee is pretty bad. This doesn’t improve Ann’s mood either.

We drive to Lordsburg, picking out the spots we’ll walk by again in a week or so. After that, the landscape opens way up. Recent rain has turned it an optimistic green.

We drive. And drive. At one point Peter just shakes his head and laughs, “You guys got a laaaahhhhht of walking to do…” When I look out across the vast spaces, I get sharp little shots of fear and excitement approaching panic. We really will be a long way from anything.

We find the spot where the trail crosses NM9 and bury our cache for 3 days from now. We hope no one sees three crazy gringos burying something in the desert. I think it’s fun burying things! Ann says “hmmf.”

The dirt road at the spot in the guidebook seems pretty bad, but we crawl along it for 20 minutes and it joins a better one. Still, it takes over an hour to cover the next 20 miles. Peter stops once to look in a stock tank and reports algae a foot thick. We’re glad it’s not one of our planned water sources. The next one looks like pea soup. We drop off some fresh water there.

A Mexican border guard is parked right across the fence at the border. Peter parks facing him, and they both get out and walk to the fence. Peter asks, “Is this the border?” The guard says, “No understand.” Peter then lets out a stream of broken Spanish, and the guard shakes his head. Finally he seems convinced we aren’t trying to cross and goes back to his truck.

The only marker here is one small faded plastic CDT sign on a fence post. We take some pictures, thank Peter, and say goodbye.

Near South Hidalgo, NM

Peter drives off in the jeep, leaving us to our own devices on the Mexican border. The fear I felt before returns, but is gradually replace with the bliss of starting a great adventure. I mention this to Ann, who says, “You feel jubilant and I’m bitchy. It figures!” But she laughes, and I know it will hit her. The preparation and anticipation of this moment were harder for her, with no distractions from it and no similar experiences to draw on.

We’re awkward with our trekking poles, which neither of us have ever used. I had to talk her into trying them, she wanted to send hers back with Peter. So far they just seem like extra things to carry, but I like having something to do with my arms.

After two miles we pick up the water we left earlier and choose to take the scenic route through the Big Hatchet mountains instead of following the road we came in on.

It isn’t long before we find our first error in planning. I had tried to write out a little script of our first days with all the mileages between water sources. We figure out that I had misinterpreted some of the guidebook mileages, and we really have a lot more miles in front of us than my script included. We talk it over while we munch on gorp, and decide there’s nothing we can do but try to stretch our food and walk more. I wanted our first days to be easy. It was a nice thought. It’s not easy to make things easy on the trail.

We leave our jeep trail, climb a small pass through the thorns, then find it again. The windmill I planned to camp near turns out to be 11 miles in instead of 8, but we make it. The water has a lot of algae in it, but is still much clearer than the last tank we saw.

We’re setting up our tent when a wind comes up and starts the windmill turning. We run down and fill up with fresh, clear water, like a gift for our first day.

Near South Hidalgo, NM

We begin the first true day of the Continental Divide Bushwack. Here the trekking poles prove their worth as tools for balance and moving thorny branches. We fight through brambles and cactus up about 1000 feet to a pass, then down through the same to Thompson Canyon. The book gives it 4 miles, but it takes us most of the day.

Thompson windmill is bone dry. We still have plenty of water, or I’d try to crank it up. The rest of the day we find a nice rhythm on the dirt road we drove in on. Six miles of it does us in with foot pounding, though. We figure we have five miles to go to the next reliable windmill in the morning.

Ann and I both experience auditory hallucinations during the day. I hear running water where I know there isn’t any, and Ann hears approaching vehicles that never come.

We saw some wonderful, delicate desert flowers today. There aren.t big stands of them, but their isolation is part of their beauty. The place feels alive with spring.

Near Hachita, NM

We decide to walk the six miles to reliable water at a windmill before breakfast. On the way we pass two watering holes with usable water that appear to be spring-fed.

We encounter some tracks in the road, one set Ann’s size and one mine. We wonder if there is another couple on the trail ahead of us, but they disappear after a while.

The windmill is totally defunct when we reach it, which is strange because we both remember seeing it running on our way in. To our relief there is good water there, trickling in from a pipe sunk in the ground. This is truly an oasis, with the only big cottonwoods in the valley providing shade. We spread out, bathe, do the wash, eat, and relax. Ann says it feels like we’re cheating, it’s so nice.

The time comes to step back into the desert, loaded with water. The walking is on old roads today, and the miles go by faster, though not without pain. Ann’s feet are suffering, and hips from the pack’s waist belt.

We really get a sense of how open the country we’re crossing is today. We can see the oasis and our camp most of the day, and can still see the terrain near the border now.

Our food is holding out well, and our progress is better than we expected. Ann seems to be really getting in the swing of walking, which makes me happy. We may still miss our hotel reservation in Silver City, but we hope to make it the next day.

It occurred to me today that we have yet to enounter another person.

Near Hurley, NM

We tried a food experiment last night – soaking macaroni and beans to see if they’d rehydrate without cooking. This morning after four miles of ancient roads and bushwacks it sounds good, so we have it for breakfast. Ann is amazed to be eating such fare, but even more amazed to be liking it! We both change our tune climbing up a hill later, when we get macaroni burps. So maybe there’s a reason people don’t eat cold macaroni for breakfast!

A little after noon we reach the food cache at hiway 9. I manage to get a digital signal on the cell phone and send off some posts, but it takes forever. I may have to go easier on the photos in the future.

Weighted down with five days of food and 2 1/2 gallons of water, we trudge north from NM9. It’s the strangest cross-country hiking I’ve done. We walk for hours in an unchanging sea of dust and creosote bushes. After dinner Ann is ready to camp, but we decide we should push a little further towards the next water. During this leg we talk over the coming days, and decide we have a good chance of making our hotel date in Silver City on the 27th. This lifts our spirits, just as we emerge from the creosote sea under a glowing orange sunset. Life is good.

Near Hurley, NM

The first half of our day is spent looking for roads that aren’t there. We even go to a GPS coordinate – nothing but fences and cows. Either things have changed since the guidebook author hiked this segment, or he was subject to vivid hallucinations. The searching causes us some aggravation, but once we give up and just head for Separ cross-country, we’re fine. We get more practice crossing barbed-wire fences, hoping we’re still on public land.

By the time we reach Separ it’s getting really windy, and the horizon is obscured by a giant dust cloud. At the Continental Divide Trading Post we encounter the first people since we started, Howard and Judy Carey. They have ridden their tandem mountain bike up from San Diego, and are now headed north up the continental divide bike route. We exchange some quick stories, then wish them luck as they ride off into the wind.

We stay to eat some sugar and make some calls before we follow them. The wind is crazy, but it’s mostly behind us. so the flying dust isn’t too uncomfortable. We walk on a dirt road, buffeted by winds, watching the strange spectacle of dust storms around us.

We take refuge and make dinner at a stock tank. It provides some shelter from the wind, but we get splashed by water blowing over the edge.

Another short windy walk and we come to a section of road with fence on both sides, so we decide to camp. There are no sheltered spots, so we walk off a ways and find the best place we can for the tent. The wind seems to be dying down now, so we may have a peaceful night.