Hike Journal Entries: October

10/01/05: In Which We Reach the Warm Desert of New Mexico at the Abiquiu Ghost Ranch

We left Harris Bear Spring a little after 7. I still get up around 6, but it is still dark then with lots of the wonderful stars we are treated to when it is not cloudy. The early section was mostly a road walk, though we had a bit of bushwhacking along a ridge with great views of the valley floor we would eventually reach.

The road through the pass led us down to Yeso Tank where we hiked along another road to the head of Yeso Canyon. The drop into the canyon was steep and trailless, but the CDTS guidebook gave excellent instructions and we found the trail leading down to Abiquiu Ghost Ranch.

By now we had dropped out of the high forest and into what would be more recognizable as desert with cactus, sagebrush and other such vegetation. On one cactus Tommy spotted a dead bat, apparently impaled by the spines of the cactus.

The canyon we were descending offered a mixture of colors and formations. All these changes along with the rising temperatures as we reached midday and dropped below 7000 feet for the first time led to a sense of excitement—we were definitely somewhere new and special.

Ghost Ranch itself is a conference and retreat center set against a backdrop of these spectacular banded cliffs. The buildings are mostly brown adobe and blend nicely into the landscape without detracting from the beautiful setting.

We came here to pick up our food boxes and hoping to be able to spend the night and get cleaned up. We found ourselves in the middle of the 50th anniversary of the Ranch as a retreat center. Its previous claim to fame was the presence of Georigia O'Keefe and there are numerous reminders of her around the grounds.

Despite the level of activity the staff was very accommodating, eventually setting us up in a "casita" with bunkbeds and giving us access to showers and laundry. After getting cleaned up I caught up my journals and made brief calls to Ellie and LiAnna (phone access is limited here).

Dinner was cafeteria style but more formal than usual as befitted a 50th anniversary event. The enchiladas, rice and beans were good, but we skipped the dessert because we did not want to sit through the hour of speeches that accompanied it.

Before going to sleep we visited the library and checked out the newspaper and other books available for browsing. I finished cleaning gear for the morning departure and went to sleep.

Spent the night at: N36.33735 W106.46982 Elevation 6547 ft

10/02/05: In Which We Depart Ghost Ranch and Climb Back into the Forest

I was up by 6 as usual, worked on my journal and packed for our departure planned for shortly after the 7:30 breakfast at the Ghost Ranch cafeteria. Water sources for the day seemed questionable so the last thing I did before walking to breakfast was the fill my gallon water bag. Unfortunately I did not tighten the lid and about half the water poured into my pack and over my gear before I noticed the puddle beneath the pack. I spent half an hour drying stuff as best I could and was not too happy, to say the least. Being a Presbyterian Church facility on Sunday morning I think I did an admirable job of controlling my tongue.

After breakfast we departed via the Living Museum trail, which highlighted the plants that grow around Ghost Ranch. This trail led to the Desert Museum housed in a series of buildings by the highway. We did not have the time to do all the exhibits justice, but I did come away with a much greater understanding of the complexity of the land grant issues in New Mexico. Much of the disagreement comes from the common ownership by all Mexican villagers of lands shared for grazing, timber, etc, a concept our legal system could not seem to incorporate as required by the treaties under which we took over New Mexico.

From the museum we crossed the highway and went cross-country until we hit the road that runs along Rio Chama. We followed the road along the muddy river for several miles, eventually crossing it at a bridge into the related wilderness area.

From here trail tread led us up to what proved to be the delightful Ojitos Canyon. The canyon had a mix of vegetation and a tiny creek running down it. Tommy spotted a huge spider at one point that amazed us all. We followed the trail along the creek for a few miles before switchbacking up the ridge to a road.

The road took us higher, though we forsaked it for a short jaunt offtrail through a meadow paralleling it. Eventually we found some new trail tread CDTS had asked me to look for and describe. Knowing it would lead shortly to the highway, we chose to camp in a grove of Ponderosa pines. We stopped before 6 with lots of light to cook and set up. Despite a forecast of rain the clouds we had during the day had dissipated, so I decided to join Tommy and Razzu in sleeping without a tarp, the first time I have done that since Wyoming.

Spent the night at: N36.23218 W106.69253 Elevation 8400 ft

10/03/05: In Which We Visit the San Pedro Parks Wilderness

I left before 7 to check out the new trail running toward Highway 96, but it ended after about a tenth of a mile so I returned to our campsite and left my pack and headed back north to see how far the new tread ran in that direction. Tommy joined me and we went for more than a mile without coming to an end or junction so assume it went on a ways.

Returning to our campsite we joined Razzu in making the long descent down the jeep road to Highway 96. Instead of following the highway (a mile shorter but less pleasant) we followed the guidebook route through a nice mixed forest. We took a break after hitting the gravel road on the far side.

Walking up the gravel road, we discovered more new trail tread and took it, assuming it would head in the correct direction and go past a good source of water. We were right on both counts and after about four miles found ourselves on the boundary of the San Pedro Parks Wilderness. San Pedro Parks has San Pedro Peaks (though not very peaked) and we climbed over 2000 feet to reach them, finding not mountaintops but vast rolling meadows that give the wilderness its name. The Forest Service, knowing that a wilderness area is not complete without wildlife, was kind enough to provide us with plenty of viewing opportunities of their favorite animal—the cow.

On the far side of the wilderness we descended via Rio Puerco and Rito de los Pinos, choosing to camp near the latter just inside the wilderness boundary. We had just gotten our tarps up and started cooking dinner when the clouds that had been threatening during the afternoon delivered their payload of moisture. I pulled my almost cooked dinner under the tarp to eat. Showers continued off and on until I went to sleep to their sound on the tarp.

Spent the night at: N36.09667 W106.88303 Elevation 9309 ft

10/04/05: In Which We Visit Cuba Without a Boat Ride

The rain had mostly let up by morning and Tommy and I set off ahead of Razzu for the town of Cuba. After a couple miles of trail along the creek we slept near we hit a dirt road. That turned into a paved County road that led to the highway through Cuba. Along the way it rained enough at one point to wet us down but it was still fairly warm.

We stopped at the visitors center to figure out where things were and decided on a motel on the south side of town near the post office and laundromat. Heading back toward the center of town, we met Razzu and all picked up our boxes at the post office. While this town has its bright spots, it looks pretty rundown and is obviously one of the poorer places we have been through.

I started our laundry and then went to the store to get groceries as there is a microwave and refrigerator in our motel room. I also picked up a scrub pad for my water filter, having made it to here by scraping it with my knife.

The afternoon was spent with the usual town cleanup chores as well as catching portions of the baseball playoff games. I mailed a package back to Ellie and stopped by the library to look at some hiker journals, seeing most people are done or fast approaching the end of their hikes. I talked to a few people on the phone, heated up some dinner and ate lots of veggies, wishing of course that I had better ones from home.

Spent the night at: N36.01114 W106.96773 Elevation 6903 ft

10/05/05: In Which We Depart Cuba and Hike Some Fine Trail Through the Desert

I did the double breakfast before leaving town routine, having my granola at 6 and then having pancakes at the cafe across the street with Tommy and Razzu about 7:30. Razzu needed to check on a missing package at the post office when it opened at 8:30, so we took off about 9.

The first five miles were a roadwalk and, being eager to get them over with, I was ahead of Tommy and Razzu. This turned out to be an unfortunate time to be in the lead as a car passed us and then turned around and stopped just ahead of me with the window rolled down. I said hello and they asked if I was planning to turn left on the dirt road just ahead. I admitted that I was and I got an earful about the hikers that were trespassing on their nearby land. Their primary complaint was not so much the trespassing as the destruction of their fences as hikers crossed them. I explained that I carried several maps, a compass, a guidebook with route descriptions and a GPS and that we would stay on BLM land. This seemed to placate them as far as we were concerned, but they needed to let me know that it wasn't just us, people were coming from all over the world to trespass on their land. One morning, they said, they found a guy from Israel camped by their cattle spring. I agreed to pass the word on to the CDT list not to trespass and they finally drove on. My suspicion is that problem primarily comes from northbounders who see the highway in the distance and decide to hurry in to town by shortcutting across the intervening land, damaging fences in the process. Southbounders like us would have to backtrack to reach their property, which would make no sense unless totally lost.

Anyway, we turned off on the public dirt road across BLM land and carefully navigated along the CDTS route. Jim Wolf had sent me a draft description of the new route through the area and we were able to follow it fairly easily as they had used both white-tipped posts and rock cairns to mark the way.

It led to a great walk along the escarpment of the mesa with interesting views all along the way. After a break around noon at a good lookout point we continued along the edge until we came to the point we switchbacked down off the mesa. On the way down we passed a couple of huge boulders seemingly balanced on weathered pedestals. From there the route headed southeast through mostly sagebrush until it reached Jones Canyon, where we found the spring we were led to believe would be there. Water sources are very limited in this region and we are hiking at one of the driest time of the year, so we approach the sources of water we are counting on with hope and trepidation. We each took between 4 and 5 quarts (8 to 10 pounds) to carry for the rest of the day and into tomorrow. I carried 5 as I prefer to lug a little extra weight in case the next source is dry.

The route out of Jones Canyon was another creative bit of trailmaking, leading us past interesting rock formations and up on the mesas for great views in the distance. After another 5 miles we stopped on top of one mesa for the night. We had great views off to the west as the sun set and it was even pleasant (i.e., we didn't have to immediately put on all our extra clothes just to stay warm). With only a few clouds off in the distance and the relatively warm temperatures I decided to sleep out again, even though those clouds were being lit by lightning far below the horizon as I crawled into my sleeping bag.

Spent the night at: N35.80588 W107.02645 Elevation 7062 ft

10/06/05: In Which We Endure Another Cold Day in the Desert

Once we went to sleep about 9 the distant clouds made a beeline for us and were dropping rain shortly after midnight. We all hopped up and erected tarps. The rain of course then stopped, but the wind whipped our tarps around all night, eventually collapsing mine just before I was ready to get up at 6.

Tommy and I left about 7, it being far too cold and windy to wait for Razzu to get ready. The trail continued to weave in and out of interesting rock formations and along mesas with good views in the distant, especially of Cabezon Peak, which we seemed to be going around all day. We reached the only water source of the day, a spigot near a stock tank that we were relieved to find working. The next confirmed water source is 28 miles away so we were really counting on this one.

Though it was late morning I left the water source still wearing gloves and three upper layers to protect myself from the cold wind. As before the cairned route was well laid out and when I could put the cold out of my mind it was quite an enjoyable walk. After 1, the sun finally broke through and I took off my gloves and windbreaker.

About 5:30 we dropped down to Arroyo Chico and finding some shelter in the brush there (no trees to speak of around here) we decided to spend the night. As night approached the rest of the clouds vanished and the wind finally abated. We had a nice view of the thin crescent moon and Venus setting in the west and we got our typical parade of millions of stars you never see in the city including the Milky Way.

Spent the night at: N35.60955 W107.21123 Elevation 5968 ft

10/07/05: In Which We Have a Pleasant Day Walking Through New Mexico

I awoke to low clouds and fog, but no rain. At Tommy's urging I made my usual vain attempt to rouse Razzu. Today I tried a rousing rendition of the Fixin' To Hike Rag ("One, two, three, what are we hiking for? Don't ask me I don't give a damn, next stop is Mexican" etc). It didn't do any more good than my eloquent recitation of Lady MacBeth's soliloquy yesterday, so Tommy and I left about 7, knowing that Razzu would follow when the spirit finally moved him.

We had slept at an incredibly low elevation below 6000 feet so the first part of the day was a climb. Tommy always go uphill much faster than me and I also stop for photos, including one of the Bears Mouth, a gap on the way up, so he was soon far ahead of me.

I followed the cairned trail and wound up at a signed CDT trailhead by a road, something not mentioned in the guidebook so I suspected I was off course. I took a break to see if Razzu would follow me or Tommy and took a GPS reading to confirm my general location. I was by the road that was an alternate route, so when Razzu did not show I walked back the trail I had followed to where the other route should be but I could find no sign of it, so I returned to the road and took the alternative for a couple miles. There was quite a bit of traffic for a dirt road, but there are a lot of people out gathering pinion nuts or hunting. On the mesa I cut back across to the route I wanted to be on, found it easily but no footprints from Tommy or Razzu. So I headed back on that route and within 10 minutes met them coming toward me, puzzled about how I got ahead of them.

After explanations we continued on with some excellent views off the mesa as the clouds had finally lifted. From there it was a long but pleasant walk through the woods to Los Indios near a spring we were counting on, 28 miles from the last water. We had to climb about half a mile down the canyon to get to the water, but it was protected from cattle and excellent.

We took a long break there and decided to go about five more miles before stopping for the night. We would then be about 20 miles from the next water, so we could camp in that general vicinity tomorrow and not need to lug the heavy water so far. Since the post office is closed Monday, our plan is now to arrive in Grants on Monday instead of Sunday.

The last five miles were a fairly flat road walk. Alas, most of the rest of the way to Grants will be on dirt roads. The cairned routes we have been following the last three days, all constructed by volunteers, have been great. Many thanks to the people who made such a beautiful route that shows off this part of New Mexico.

We camped in a pinion grove just off the road about 6. I cracked and ate a few pinion nuts, but Razzu is the real collector who stops several times a day to gather them. It had stayed clear so I decided to take a chance and sleep out again. There is no lightning in the distance tonight, so it should be okay.

Spent the night at: N35.46535 W107.42079 Elevation 8263 ft

10/08/05: In Which the Nut Gatherers, Gun Nuts and Nutty Thruhikers Spend a Saturday Together in the Forest

We woke to a clear but cold morning. It is well after 7 now when the sun rises so it is getting harder to make an early start, though Tommy and I try. Today was essentially a road walk toward Mount Taylor, and it being a Saturday, there was quite a bit of traffic on the road. Some of the people were gathering pinion nuts, generally families working together. The other large contingent of vehicles were the hunters, usually in camouflage who would ask us if we had seen any elk. How they expected to find elk along a road that had people scattered all along it gathering nuts and about 20 vehicles an hour going by is beyond me. I would tell them yes, about two weeks ago near the Colorado border.

We took a break about 10 near a stock tank that I was checking out for CDTS as a water source (just a bit of stagnant water, so we were glad we were carrying what we needed). About 1 we got off the main road and headed up American Canyon, headed toward our next water source about 5 miles away.

A short ways up, we met a hunter from Georgia who told us to expect more hunters as we went up the canyon. We did not see any but a while later when I was trailing Tommy and Razzu I heard them shouting "go" and "run." I looked up to see three elk running up the hill. With all the hunters around they will need more than a little encouragement to survive.

It sprinkled a bit on us as the clouds thickened as the afternoon wore on. We found our good water at American Canyon Spring, but the clouds looked so foreboding I was only interested in getting my tarp up. We all finished that task before the rain began in earnest and lasted about half an hour. We got water and cooked after that, making an early day of it because hiking for another couple of hours would have left us on top of an 11,300 foot peak (Mount Taylor). We plan to go over the top in the morning and end up a few miles from Grants, unless the weather is still bad, in which case we might try to get in to town before dark.

Another shower hit about dark and it is obvious that it will be a much cooler and damper night than the last couple. We also have a bit of lightning flashing in the distance.

Spent the night at: N35.27885 W107.55986 Elevation 9470 ft

10/09/05: In Which the Weather Drives Us into Grants a Day Early

It rained off and on all night with occasional flashes of lightning and rumbles of thunder. When I got up there was a small accumulation of hail alongside the tarp but the skies were partly clear. We decided to try to go up Mount Taylor, though Tommy had some reservations because it was supposed to be a Native American sacred site. I had a hard time understanding how something could still be sacred when it had been turned into a cow pasture, the adjacent ridge is festooned with communication antennas, a forest service road runs over the top of it, and hunters are blasting away from it at the wildlife. Or as Dylan once observed: "Its easy to see without looking too hard that not much is really sacred."

We walked up the road but at about 10,000-foot level we ran into the clouds/fog being pushed by a cold wind. After a few miles of this we reached La Mosca, the site of the antennas at about 11,000 feet. The wind was creating rime, blowing the clouds against the grass and freezing it there. Given that the visibility was essentially about 50 feet and we were tired of the cold, there was little point in climbing Mount Taylor, so we took the road dropping from this point to the main road leading into Grants.

On the way down not only did we leave the 11,000 foot level behind but we also passed 10,000 feet for the last time. Given the weather we did not stop to celebrate. From the junction of the road to Grants it was another 13 miles to town, a long boring walk, the last 10 miles on pavement. We stopped and took a break about 6 miles out where the official route came in, but it was interrupted by a shower. Just past the State Prison on the edge of town the looming black clouds began to deliver rain and gusty winds.

The town was spread out and took us a long time to reach the middle of town. Unfortunately we had not checked where to find motels before getting into town and we headed west where there were none and everything was closed. Tommy finally checked at an open convenience store and discovered we needed to head the other way a couple of miles to find one.

While the town is much bigger than Cuba, it is not in much better shape with not much open on a Sunday evening so we had to order pizza from Domino's. Despite having lights I could not stay up late and was asleep by 9:30.

Spent the night at: N35.14579 W107.83851 Elevation 6426 ft

10/10/05: In Which I Don't Get My Kicks on Route 66

In all the excitement of arriving in Grants yesterday (yawn) I forgot to mention that we are staying on the original Route 66 that passes through Grants. While there are signs marking it as such, most of the traffic passes nearby on Interstate 40.

The post office being closed, I did not have a lot of hike-related things I could do today, though I looked over the route ahead and cleaned and sorted gear in anticipation of leaving. We all walked a couple miles out to the grocery store and got some food and then walked back. In the afternoon we walked the other way looking for a book for Tommy but settled for food instead, returning in a cold rain. The weather is supposed to improve tomorrow, a change long overdue in my opinion, given that I am walking through the desert in what is supposed to be the dry season.

The evening was spent watching the final game of the Yankees-Angels series, all of us cheered by vanquishing of the rich demons from New York. I got in a couple phone calls home and all is set for Ellie to meet after I hike through the Gila Wilderness.

Spent the night at: N35.14579 W107.83851 Elevation 6426 ft

10/11/05: In Which I Start My Fifth and Final Month on the Trail Without Tommy and Razzu

After I had my usual granola breakfast Tommy, Razzu and I set off for a second breakfast at the highly recommended Uranium Cafe. Unfortunately its half life was apparently much shorter than its namesake and it had gone out of business like so much else in this town. We read the paper outside the post office while we waited for its 8:30 opening.

I got my resupply and drift boxes and headed back to the motel to sort out what to take and what to send ahead for Ellie to pick up in Deming and bring to our meeting place near Gila on the 20th. Ellie had sent new shoes and I was tempted to keep wearing the old ones, but Tommy and Razzu convinced me the old ones were too worn for further service, so I put on pair #4 of the trip.

A reporter from the Albuquerque newspaper had sent an email requesting that I call her for a story she was doing on the CDT. I called her and she wanted to meet me on the trail somewhere, but given the push I am making to meet Ellie I could not agree to any time so I gave the phone to Tommy, who worked out a meeting time with her.

We headed back to the post office to mail my drift box and say good-bye. Tommy and Razzu are going to Albuquerque for a few days where they will meet a college friend before returning to the trail next week. When they reach Pietown, they will take another break to meet Tommy's girlfriend, Bernadette. Ellie and my sister Andrea will also be here that weekend and we made tentative plans for me to pull off the trail near Mimbres and all of us meet somewhere. It would be nice finish together since we started together, but we are on different schedules so I left Grants alone, crossed the freeway and headed up Zuni Canyon carrying a heavy pack weighed down by 6 quarts of water.

A man hailed me from his yard and asked if I was hiking the CDT. We chatted a bit and he told me a couple (likely Zack and Buddha) had passed by last Wednesday or Thursday. I went on up the paved road, which turned to gravel about six miles out. The canyon was pretty but the road was well used and I got regular dustings by the vehicles roaring past. A couple of signs explained how a former railroad line through the canyon was used to ship timber to the mills in Albuquerque. What they didn't say but was painfully obvious was that the Poderosas had still not grown back.

Twelve miles out, I turned left into Bonita Canyon onto a dirt road with essentially no traffic (two hunters the rest of the afternoon). I was checking water sources for CDTS and found none operational as far as I got. There is one more to check in the morning and if that is also dry, I will have a long way to the next one and will have to start rationing what water I have left.

With the mileage I finished today I have less than 400 miles to reach the border on the CDTS route I am following. Still quite a ways, but I am feeling now like I am on the home stretch, so to speak.

Spent the night at: N35.00069 W107.963255 Elevation 7235 ft

10/12/05: In Which I Walk Through the Malpais

There was a light frost when I got up and got moving. Being in a canyon even the official hour of sunrise a few minutes after I started walking did not help as I was shaded. I quickly reached the windmill that was my last hope for water for more than 20 miles. It was spinning and delivering water so I filled everything and set off for the Zuni-Acoma Trail.

At the trailhead I read the informational signs and warnings and set off to cross eight miles of the Malpais (roughly "badlands" in English). The biggest challenge of making it through this territory are the lava flows, heaved up in all directions. Trees, shrubs, cacti and flowers do grow in some parts and the cairned trail picks its way through all of this. While it does bypass some of the worst holes in the ground, several times you step or leap across cracks in the lava that could swallow you whole. A couple I could not see the bottom of and were at least 20 feet down.

The footing was treacherous and put a lot of wear on my new shoes. It was necessary to watch your feet at all times, stopping if you wanted to admire the view around you. At one point I stopped to pick out the next cairn, turned to step toward it without looking down and kicked a dead prickly pear cactus. Its thorns went through my new left shoe like it was tissue paper and poked my big toe pretty bad. After that I kept my eyes to the ground a bit more.

Including a break I took in the middle, it took me four hours to traverse the Malpais. This was pretty slow but the scenery was well worth the effort. At the trailhead along the road on the other side I got on the road and walked to the next scenic spot, La Ventana (Window) Natural Arch. Clouds had begun to mass, blocking out the sun, so it was hard to get a picture showing clearly the open space behind the arch.

I took the cross-country route up the cliff behind the arch and got on the Narrows Rim Trail that ran along the edge of the mesa. From there you had a sweeping view of the hundreds of acres of the Malpais (I had only crossed a narrow portion of it). My toe was still hurting from my encounter with the cactus so I finally took off my shoe and sock to examine it and found two thorns still in it. One came out easily but the other took a tug and about half an inch of cactus came out followed by a good spurt of blood.

I followed the trail until it dropped to a picnic area by the trailhead. It was late afternoon by now and I trudged another four miles down the highway until I came to a closed road near a windmill. I hopped the fence, checked on the status of the windmill for CDTS (working fine) and then went cross country to hit Cebolla Canyon Road. In another mile I left the road to check on the status of another functioning windmill.

From there I headed toward some low trees looking for some shelter from the wind moving the windmills and blowing the so-far rainless clouds around. I ended up camping in a small arroyo because it was sheltered from the wind but knowing this would be a bad place to be if it really started raining (but it would never rain in the desert of New Mexico, right?).

Spent the night at: N34.75809 W107.92708 Elevation 7142 ft

10/13/05: In Which I Visit the Cebolla Canyon Petroglyphs

I awoke to find the dew had frozen on my sleeping bag and pack. That cooled my enthusiasm for getting started but was finally ready to go about sunrise. The wind already had the first windmill of the morning going so I got some water there.

Next stop were some petroglyphs that required clambering up and down the step walls of the 25-foot deep arroyo in the middle of the canyon. I know nothing of the designs in the petroglyphs but it was pretty amazing to think they had been scratched in the sandstone hundreds of years ago, at least.

Another arroyo scramble, complicated by a bull staring me back from the first route I had chosen, led me back to the road up Cebolla Canyon. I dried my sleeping bag and gear on the remaining wall of an old homestead. The wall was sandstone blocks mortared with adobe clay, another reminder of the past history of this area.

I reached Cebolla Spring about midday but was disappointed to find a dead bird in the tank. I continued up the route, noting the condition of several windmills in the area for CDTS. It is interesting to see such old technology working, knowing that wind energy for electrical production has now gone mainstream and very high-tech.

With a final cross-country hike I ended the day about 20 miles from Pietown, all remaining mileage on gravel or paved roads. I should be able to make town easily tomorrow before the post office closes at 4:30 and even have time to get some pie.

Spent the night at: N34.52963 W108.00293 Elevation 7424 ft

10/14/05: In Which I Visit Pie Town and Sample Some of the Pies

I woke to another frosty morning, again shaking the ice off my sleeping bag before stuffing it in the pack. I quickly reached the dirt county road and began the 20-mile walk into town.

There is not much good to say about road walks and you have already read all my complaints. There were not a lot of cars so that limited the number of dust baths I had to take. The most interesting sight besides the mountains in the distance was a pack of coyotes frolicking in one of the meadows near the road. They eyed me up a bit before drifting off into the trees.

I reached Pie Town a little after 2 and resisted the urge to eat first. Instead I went to the post office and got my resupply box, then sorted the food at the park across the road. From there I walked to the one pay phone in town and called home and left a message. I then typed up the rest of my water notes for CDTS, copied them with a little additional advice for Tommy and Razzu, and then hooked up my Pocketmail to send everything off.

I tried home again and got Ellie and we discussed the details of meeting next week on the 20th near the Gila Cliff Dwellings. It is less than a week away and starting to seem more real. In some ways I am ready for the hike to end and in others I wish I could hike on some more (3 days without rain, snow or bitter cold winds have obviously raised my optimism level). Ellie also urged me to read the email from Buddha, which contains good info about the water situation ahead.

The Pie-O-Neer Cafe was closed until November 4, so it was easy to decide that I wanted my pie from the Daily Pie Cafe. I started with a piece of Apple, Green Chile and Piñon Nut and a glass of milk. Then I was a good boy and had a large green salad with bread before finishing the meal off with Cherry Strudel topped with several scoops of ice cream.

I got about a gallon of water to cover the next 16 miles before the next good source of water per Buddha and staggered off to walk the roads on the other side of Pie Town. I left later than I had hoped but still had time to reach public land several miles out of town. This was good because the landowner of all the land from there back to town was particularly obnoxious with hundreds of No Trespassing signs, even offering $500 rewards for catching someone in the act. Land ownership really sets people off around this State. I guess that comes with the guilt of knowing the land was stolen from the Native Americans by the Spanish and then stolen from the Mexicans by the American government.

I scooted my sleeping bag under a juniper tonight in hopes of keeping off the frost, though with a few clouds around they may keep it warmer (just as long as they don't decide to bring rain).

Spent the night at: N34.21500 W108.13486 Elevation 7609 ft

10/15/05: In Which the Rain and Cold Return and I Climb Mangas Mountain

I must have jinxed myself by mentioning the good weather yesterday because by 3 AM it started to sprinkle. I got up and put the tarp then, which turned out to be a wise move since shortly thereafter a thunderstorm hit with a big downpour. The rain with occasional lightning and thunder continued until about 6 AM when I decided to eat breakfast and get ready to leave. Before I could get the tarp down the rain started back up again, so I crawled back into my sleeping bag, dozing until nearly 8 AM when it finally gave up again. I left about 8:20 and was immediately confronted with a reality that would dog me throughout the day—mud.

I would estimate at least half an inch of rain fell (recall I am in a desert that gets 10 to 15 inches of rain a year, most of it in July and August) and the dusty roads of yesterday had turned into an oozing mess that clung to your shoes and made traction very difficult. The trekking poles were invaluable in keeping me upright and digging in so I could push forward with them.

There were few vehicles about and all of those 4-wheel drive, but even they would fishtail as they tried to climb. I learned that when I heard an engine to get clear off the road, both for safety and to avoid getting spattered with even more mud.

I was reviewing water sources again for CDTS but was not quite as diligent heading down side roads to look for springs or windmills. I found the water source Buddha recommended and got enough to last me to the windmill she recommended quite a ways on that I will not reach until tomorrow, mud willing.

Just after this point the rain returned for nearly an hour, letting up just as I got to another pump that I tested and was also working. From there I climbed into the Apache National Forest and continued to slog uphill. I took another break in the trees to avoid a light sprinkle about 4 and then climbed up to Mangas Mountain and the lookout tower there. I had not been paying attention to elevation, so was shocked when the sign said I was at 9700 feet.

With night coming on and a brisk wind blowing I decided it was time to hightail it to a lower spot to camp. In my haste I ended up circling the top of the mountain again but finally got below 9000 feet in some Ponderosas to spend the night. Hopefully the precipitation is done as it is cold enough as I go to bed to drop some of that ugly white stuff.

Spent the night at: N34.04987 W108.31690 Elevation 8909 ft

10/16/05: In Which I Move from the Apache to the Gila National Forest

No rain or frost overnight as the wind blew and clouds kept some warmth in. There was frost on the meadow at Valle Tio Vinces Spring where I looked over the water possibilities (fair at best) for CDTS.

The day's walk was mostly on roads and mostly in Ponderosa forest. A few hunters slid by on the muddy roads, but by afternoon the roads were beginning to dry out except in the low spots where water had pooled.

I crossed Highway 12 and left the Apache National Forest for the Gila NF. I got water at the Aragon Windmill but was not as impressed with the water quality as Buddha had been since I had to scrub my filter twice just to get a gallon of water to carry. A few miles later I scouted out Damian Spring and found much better water, so I wish I had waited to get it there.

At this point, a little after 4 PM with over 20 miles completed, my progress slowed dramatically. I was supposed to leave the roads finally and get on trail tread by a cairn near the spring. I spotted the cairn and started up following tread and blazes on a very steep route. The route did not quite seem to match the guidebook description but I did reach a burned area where CDTS had asked me to check to see if the trail was now marked in some way.

I couldn't find the trail amidst all the downed burned trees so used my compass to head in the general direction I thought I should go. I spotted some trail tread above me heading east, mostly the way I wanted, so I climbed to it and began following it. It was much wider and better marked than what I had been following. Unfortunately instead of rising it was descending and when it turned north I knew something was wrong. I stopped to consult the map, set my pack down by a tree and look up to see a rare sight—a CDT trail sign. After some pondering I finally arrive at the truth. This is the route I should have been on to begin with. Somehow, after being no trails for two weeks, just roads, at the point I was looking for a cairn I missed the official route and took some steep alternate or old route.

So I turned around and went back up this better trail, past where I got on it and into the burned area once again, only higher up the mountain. Of course, I lost the trail again with all the downed trees, but this was a better lost because I knew where I was and where the trail should be and headed that direction, tracking it down a little after 6. Being too late to climb over Wagontongue Mountain, I camped in a flat area described in the guidebook, so tomorrow I will start out knowing where I am, even if that does not last too long.

Spent the night at: N33.86603 W108.46016 Elevation 8590 ft

10/17/05: In Which I See the Last Full Moon of the Journey

As expected, I started out the morning on the designated trail, but it was poorly marked and after a mile or so of that nonsense I stopped looking and headed down the ridge it was supposed to be running down anyway. I found the valley identified for the CDTS guidebook alternative and followed that route instead. While there was none of the expected water this way, the description was clear and easy to follow, a vast improvement over the poorly marked official route.

After a short road walk around John Kerr Peak (this is back on the official route and here, I kid you not, they blazed the trees along the road, I guess to help you find the road—if they would get out of their pickups and blaze the trail tread it would be a lot more useful), I followed more trail tread along the Divide. This route was better marked and where it wasn't clear I added a few rock cairns of my own to help those who follow. The trail has not been maintained for several years and there were quite a few downed trees to navigate around, but it was a pleasant route through forest that made that easy to overlook.

Back on the road again I went past a couple of springs that I investigated for CDTS, drawing water for the next 24 hours from the second one, Davis Spring. Leaving that canyon behind I dropped down into Collins Park. While walking along the road a hunter stopped to make sure I was all right, asking twice as if finding it hard to believe anyone could voluntarily be walking out here where the road signs indicate that everything is at least 25 miles away.

The Ley map had a shortcut across the park that I opted not to take that looked on paper like it would save about 15 minutes of road walking. But when you figure in the slower pace over uneven ground, the time to crawl through a barbed wire fence and the time spent picking weed seeds out of my socks, it was quicker to stay on the road. Further, all the vehicles I see these day have hunters in them and it did not seem wise to leave the road where they clearly see me for the open fields where stumbling along with my trekking poles in the setting sun I could be mistaken for an elk with two prosthetic limbs. (I am also working on a formula to evaluate Ley's shortcuts that involves the Pythagorean Theorem, the bushwhack difficulty coefficient, the inverse square of the difference between elevation gain and elevation loss, the probability of getting lost, and a Fudge Factor to cover such things as getting accosted by a private property owner or shot by an elk hunter. Not too surprisingly when all of this is considered, most shortcuts are not worth it, but there was one really great one that Brian and I took in Montana that keeps me hoping I will find another one that good.)

I pulled off the road in the trees to make camp before dark. The full moon rose while I was finishing dinner, the last one (full moon, that is, I plan to eat some more dinners) of the trip, I hope. I expect to finish the trail around the new moon with stars blazing brightly near the border. I thought I was by myself here but I now see lights and a fire a couple hundred yards away. Another hunter camp, no doubt.

Spent the night at: N33.60898 W108.46450 Elevation 7704 ft

10/18/05: In Which I Enter the Gila Wilderness and Start Fording

After a brief smattering of rain during the night I woke about 6 AM to lightning and the nearby hunters firing up their vehicles to drive around looking for that elusive elk waiting along side the road for them to drive up and shoot it. I took off before the sun rose or the moon set, though while the latter was visible the former came up behind the clouds and favored that hiding location most of the day.

The first rain of the rain was a light shower I waited out under a tree just after starting one of Ley's shortcuts that came out favorably when ran through my formula. It cut off 3 miles of road walk, though it started by walking about 4 miles through treeless pasture (I know, I am supposed to call it a park) that with the wind blowing reminded me of the Idaho/Montana border area. I dropped down into T-Bone Canyon and was shocked to see actual running water in a creek. It has been a while to see water flowing like that and it was a harbinger of things to come.

I came out of the canyon and hit the road to Snow Lake, a dammed reservoir, and the Dipping Vat Campground, where I detoured up the hill to get water. It started to rain as I was leaving, so when I got back to the lake I huddled under the eave of the outhouse to wait out the storm, hoping I had outlasted the rain for the day. Ha!

I went around the lake and across the dam to drop into the Gila Wilderness to follow the famous trail down the Middle Fork of the Gila River with its infamous 77 fords during the 20-mile hike. I boulder-hopped the first few, but realized I was just putting off the inevitable and began wading about the time the rain hit again. I put on my poncho to keep my gear dry, but must have looked a little incongruous wading through the river with a poncho on.

The rain let up and when I was sure it was gone for good this time (Ha! Ha!). I took the poncho off. About 10 minutes later it really started to rain, dumping hail and rain in buckets, filling the low spots in the trail with water so I was wading whether on the trail or in the river.

A little before 4, the rain stopped and the sun came out again. Being down in a canyon, I realized it would soon vanish regardless of the cloudiness, so I took a break to enjoy some of its warmth. The rest of the day the rain came in brief, light showers. There were two horse packers with six horses and gear all over Trotter Meadow as I went through (it looked like with that much horsepower they had brought everything but the kitchen sink though maybe that was there as I didn't have a chance to inventory everything as we exchanged brief greetings). I had made good progress today, so decided to stop about 5:30 and set up camp in the light and to make sure I did not risk hypothermia if a cold wind were to come up at dark.

It rained a bit after I made dinner, so I ate under the tarp. I am camped by Flying V Canyon so have covered about 9 miles of the river walk, leaving 12 miles of trail and most of the fords, including the deeper ones, for tomorrow. I had originally planned to do all the hiking along here in shorts and sandals, but there is poison ivy about, so I decided that long pants with shoes and socks was a better choice, leaving the sandals and dry socks for camp.

Spent the night at: N33.37453 W108.41528 Elevation 6796 ft

10/19/05: In Which I Finish the Fords of the Middle Gila and Climb over to the West Gila

It cleared overnight and there was frost in the surrounding meadows. I figured I would go about 20 miles today so I would arrive tomorrow about the time Ellie and Andrea got to the meeting place near Gila Cliff Dwellings. That meant I was in no hurry and started off about 7:30. After I crossed the first ford, I was wishing I had put it off a bit longer. The water was not that cold but the combination of cold air and cold ground meant my toes were pretty numb.

Despite the cold, the scenery was great and I took a lot of pictures. I would have taken more but I knew that down in the shadows in the canyon that they would not turn out like I was seeing them.

I took a leisurely break about 10 when the sun was shining down in the canyon and my feet had finally thawed. I continued on back and forth across the river depending on which side had impassable cliffs, enjoying the views but getting a little tired of the fords.

Finally about 1:45 I reached the point along the river where the guidebook author declared, "enough is enough," a sentiment I wholeheartedly endorsed, and I crossed the river one last time and began a thousand-foot climb to the mesa above. It was fun to look down to the bottom of the canyon I had just been laboring to negotiate.

I met a couple of backpackers along the way groaning about being worn out after four days of hiking. I forbore any comment about what it was like to me out for more than four months.

After crossing the mesa I began the descent to the West Fork of the Gila. There were two fords necessary and I decided to get them both done before camping, but in sandals because my shoes were nearly dry.

After the second ford, only about a mile from the Gila Cliff Dwellings, I found a spot to camp and also washed up a bit at the river. I won't fool anybody tomorrow into thinking I am clean, but maybe they won't realize it has been 10 days since the last shower.

Spent the night at: N33.23619 W108.27449 Elevation 5733 ft

10/20/05: In Which I Visit the Gila Cliff Dwellings and Meet up with Ellie and Andrea

I woke up with ice on my sleeping bag and ice in my water bottle, the price of sleeping out under the stars this time of year. I was warmed by the thought, however, that I would see my wife for the first time since the first week in July. I arrived at the locked entrance to the Gila Cliff Dwellings about 8 and was looking over the information when a couple of volunteers that work at the site came out of their trailer to chat. We talked about the CDT and the Dwellings, which would not open until 9, but the Visitor Center was open 1.5 miles down the road so I decided to go there and come back later to see the Cliff Dwellings.

At the Visitor Center several people talked to me about the Trail. Apparently I was the first southbounder to stop by. One of the women who worked there lived in Columbus and she gave me information about where to go and stay while I was there.

I decided to get the road walking in this section done, so headed up the pavement to the confluence of the East and West Forks of the Gila River about 5 miles away. It took all my willpower to walk past the Homemade Ice Cream sign at Doc Campbell's Trading Post where I had agreed to meet Ellie and Andrea.

After reaching the trailhead at the joining of the rivers, I turned around and headed back a mile or so to Doc Campbell's. I was almost there when Andrea and Ellie passed me and pulled over. I greeted Ellie as she jumped out of the car with a "Hi, dear," which apparently was not effusive enough. Not the first time I have failed the effusiveness test.

I went on to get my ice cream and then we all headed over to the nearby house Ellie had rented. Andrea graciously agreed to get my laundry started while I had a shower and then ate some of the veggies Ellie had brought from our garden.

We all the headed over to the Cliff Dwellings and caught up with the tour group that had just started. I quickly discovered the volunteer leader of the tour was preaching heresy. At the Visitor Center this morning, I had watched the video with the official party line—these dwellings were home to 40 to 60 people who lived here for about 20 years prior to 1300 AD, coming and then leaving for no apparent reason. The tour leader claimed this was nonsense, that instead of a residence this was in fact a spiritual center for the native peoples of the region. He made some good arguments based on how the caves had been modified. Of course, what the truth is may never be known, but it was interesting to walk through these ancient ruins and try to imagine life 700 years ago.

We went back to the house and I started to get my stuff ready to get back on the trail in the morning. We decided that I would take off early tomorrow with the goal of reaching the road to Mimbres by Saturday evening. Andrea and Ellie would meet me on their way out of Gila on Saturday morning at Highway 15 by Redstone and Andrea would hike with me over to the Mimbres Ranger Station.

Ellie fixed a great dinner and Andrea and I went over to the pay phone where I sent off e-mails and tried unsuccessfully to reach LiAnna, who wanted to talk to me. Back at the house I still had stuff to do but it was late and I decided to tackle it early in the morning and then get going down the trail.

10/21/05: In Which I Return to Ford the Gila River Some More and Finally Meet a Wild Animal That Makes Me Back Away

Despite intentions to leave early it was 8 AM before I was at the trailhead by the main stem of the Gila River. I immediately plunged into the first wade across the river, the first of dozens that I would complete during the day. Given that three forks of the river had come together, these crossings were both wider and deeper than the Middle Fork ones.

The depth was typically knee-deep, at most mid-thigh, so not much problem. The width of the crossings, however, slowed me down in two ways. First, it took longer to carefully cross and second, the floodplain was often over a hundred yards wide and full of head-high brush, meaning finding the trail on the opposite bank was difficult, if not impossible. I found myself stumbling through the rocks in the floodplain or thrashing through the brush in search of trail tread. Sometimes I would just give up and continue downriver, because that was the direction the trail was headed and I knew I would run into it sooner or later.

At one point when I was on the trail I came around the corner and met the first wild animal that caused me to cautiously retreat. No, it was not a bear, but rather a skunk. It moseyed off into the brush and I quickly moved on past.

Finally about 4 PM I reached Sapillo Creek where the trail leaves the Gila River and starts to climb the adjacent canyon ridge. Needing to reach the road by 10 AM tomorrow, I pushed on, climbing over 2000 feet and not stopping for the day until it was totally dark at 7 PM. I put on my headlamp and set up the tarp and cooked my dinner.

Spent the night at: N32.97005 W108.29978 Elevation 7466 ft

10/22/05: In Which Andrea and I Climb Signal Peak and Then Reach the Mimbres Ranger Station

I was up and left just as the last stars winked out, now about 7 AM. I finished climbing Tadpole Ridge and then followed the mountains generally in an eastward direction with occasional good views north and south. After contouring around Scott Peak I dropped down the ridge to Highway 15, where I met Ellie and Andrea.

After taking the requisite photos at the trailhead, Andrea set off to follow the trail up to Signal Peak, nearly 2000 feet above us at about 9000 feet. It was a struggle at times for Andrea, but she carried on and was rewarded with one of the finer rest stop areas at the top—a picnic bench, trash can and outhouse. We climbed the lookout tower but access to the platform with the best views was locked.

From there it was mostly downhill, at first following the road to the lookout. When we dropped off the ridge on a road, I left the Continental Divide for the last time. From here the Divide will be to my west for the rest of the journey.

We found the trail into Allie Canyon and began a steep drop into it. I dropped my guidebook and had to climb back a mile to retrieve it, very frustrating since we were supposed to meet Ellie at 6 and needed to move forward, not backward.

About 3 miles from meeting her, we had one last climb out of Allie Canyon and into an adjacent one that came out near the ranger station. We arrived a little after 6, our planned meeting time, then headed back to Silver City where Ellie had rented a nice cottage. It was fun hiking with Andrea and hopefully she will not be too sore from the adventure.

After showers we went out to eat at a fine Mexican restaurant. We returned to catch the last inning of the first World Series game. When it was over I knew it would be a good time to call LiAnna (an earlier call from the car during the game had gone unanswered), especially since the team she was rooting for (the White Sox) had won. We talked a bit, Ellie gave me a great foot rub and then I went to bed.

10/23/05: In Which I Rest in Silver City

I was up first and made a huge bowl of oatmeal to start the day off. I began sorting my gear and going through the drift box getting gear ready for the final week.

Andrea has free weekend minutes on her cell phone and we kept it busy calling various family members during the day. The place we are at has a spa and even I got in for a few minutes. After lunch we walked downtown to the gelato (Italian ice cream) store and I polished off a tasty large helping.

Ellie won a fast game of pinochle and I continued with hike preparations and sent off several emails. We had dinner and watched a pretty entertaining World Series that went back and forth before Chicago won in the bottom of the ninth and we all got ready for bed.

10/24/05: In Which I Climb Hillsboro Peak for My Last Visit Above 10,000 Feet

In my resting yesterday, it seems my brain took a rest as I forgot to mention two things. The first, a phone call from Tommy saying they would not be able to meet us, cast a pall over the rest of the day. It seems he injured his foot somehow the first day out of Grants. He tried to carry on but finally had to hitch the last 20 miles into Pie Town, then on to Socorro where x-rays were inconclusive. He was resting his foot and hoping to get back on the trail today. I also talked to Razzu later in the day at the trail angel's house in Pie Town where he had remained. He was confident they would finish and I certainly hope he is right. It was disappointing not to finish with them and now even more disappointment that our planned meeting did not work out.

The other thing I forgot to mention is that tracking mileage for the Custer County Food Bank is over. I talked to my sister yesterday and she seemed to think I had racked up the most miles, but that somehow our team came up short. I am awaiting official word.

We got up at 5:30 this morning and were all packed and on the road before 7. Ellie and Andrea dropped me off back by the Mimbres Ranger Station and then headed for El Paso where Andrea has a flight out today. Ellie is headed for Socorro where she will visit and friend and then head back to Deming where I will meet her on Thursday.

The guidebook announced an immediate ford to start the morning off, but I was pleased to find the Mimbres River dry. After crossing the sandy wash I climbed up a canyon until I intercepted McKnight Canyon Road after about an hour. I walked along this road for a couple hours, stopping at one point to pick up piñon nuts. While stopped, a hunter came by and stayed a bit to vent his frustrations over the lack of elk in New Mexico.

Heading on I dropped into East Canyon and followed it for a few miles before taking a fairly obscure trail up to the crest of the Black Mountains. The more defined trail there runs right along the border of the Aldo Leopold Wilderness. Unfortunately a few years back there had been a forest fire in the area, so I spent the afternoon often in brush rather than the tall trees that once been common.

The trail led to a short side trail up to the lookout on Hillsboro Peak. I thought I was done hiking over 10,000 feet, and I guess technically I was since I left my pack at 9950 and carried just my camera up to the lookout perched on top of the 10,011 foot peak. Potentially there were some great photo opportunities, but while the afternoon clouds had drifted on, there was considerable haze that limited distant views. (I am being polite here—in Southern California I would call it smog.)

Leaving the mountain, I descended toward Emory Pass, opting to stop a couple miles short of that highway crossing on the edge of the wilderness. I had hiked 24 miles while ascending about 4000 feet from where I started this morning, winding up about where I needed to be to reach Deming by Thursday.

Spent the night at: N32.93011 W107.77024 Elevation 9048 ft

10/25/05: In Which I Go Thirty Miles and Must Face an Unbearable Truth

I left my campsite about 7 as the last stars faded above me. There had been a light wind all night so I had awaken without dew on my sleeping bag. I dropped the two miles to Emory Pass at 8800 feet and then started back up the other side.

I hiked along the crest of the Black Mountains as they headed south and slowly grew shorter. After passing Sawyers Peak the trail got harder and harder to find, so I often had to pause or change directions. I descended more rapidly as I approached a road about 10 miles along that morning. I took a break there and then walked over to Donahue Canyon where I hit the trail, though it was unmarked.

I hiked over the crest for the last time and started down into Berrenda Canyon. The trail soon vanished and I spent several miles following cow paths down the canyon. At a piped spring just before I hit the road I filled up with water again.

While the road was public, some of the land it passed was private and it was amusing to see the signs that threatened and confused in an effort to keep the public from accessing the public land. My favorite was "This ranch houses troubled and at risk youth."

Eventually I left this road and turned on another county road, which the locals also treat as a private road, as I found a locked gate along the way with a No Trespassing sign. The spring mentioned in the guidebook as on State land had been fenced and turned to private use. With all this lawlessness, I was tempted to camp where I pleased, but I continued on to where there was BLM land that I was legally permitted to camp on. To get there required that I hike about 30 miles and despite losing a lot of elevation, it was still a tiring day. I should note that based on guidebook mileage I am now just less than 100 miles from the border.

At this elevation I am essentially out of the forest for the duration of the hike. Having left the Gila National Forest behind, I have no more chances of seeing a bear on this trek. I think I may be the first person to hike through the heart of the remaining bear population in the US and not see a single one, not even a black bear. I saw plenty of signs of bear, even found fresh bear scat earlier today, but no sightings.

Spent the night at: N32.68749 W107.61833 Elevation 5451 ft

10/26/05: In Which I Commune with the Cows One Last Time and Visit the Fort Cummings Ruins

Back to the road by 7:20 I continued my walk down Macho Canyon. Nothing much around but me and the cows and the occasional jackrabbit. I have been accused of disliking cows, so maybe I should set the record straight before the hike is over.

I happen to like cows, like them so much, in fact, that I choose not to eat them. In my younger, back-to-the-land days, I raised cattle and other meat animals, killed and butchered them. I came to the realization that I disliked doing this and was unwilling to pay someone else to do the killing and wrap the results in plastic, so I quit eating meat 30 years ago (and yes, there were other social, environmental and health factors that went into the decision).

So, I like cows but feel strongly they should not be destroying public lands. And in the quantities that they are allowed to graze public lands they destroy the land and pollute the waterways. If that isn't bad enough, the ranchers running the cattle on public land do so at a huge subsidy, not even paying market rates to destroy public property.

Before I started this hike I read over and over again how a through hike would be impossible without the windmills and other water sources developed primarily for cattle. Maybe so, but as I have walked along I have noticed that if the natural water sources were not fouled by cattle that maybe such a hike would be possible. After all, native peoples and early settlers moved around this region at distances no greater than what a hiker can do in a day without dying of thirst.

What really makes me ill is when hikers suggest that hikers and the cattle industry are allies. The cattle industry has no allies, only paid lobbyists and bought-off Congressional representatives. They survive claiming to be heirs to the myth of the 1950's TV western, but deep down inside they know the truth will come out some day, so they trust no one that cannot be bought.

While as an industry they reek of corruption, individual ranchers are like anyone else, some good and some bad. I would have no problem with a federal subsidy to the small rancher in the beat-up old pickup, but I have a real problem with the huge corporate ranches manipulating the tax code and then raking in some of the millions in federal subsidized grazing privileges doled out each year. For a tiny fraction of what we give away to the cattle industry to destroy public lands we could hand out bottled water to hikers at set locations along the trail. But like I said earlier, without cattle the natural water sources might just suffice.

Enough political opinion, but for most of the day there was little to do but cogitate on such issues as I walked the road and then cut cross-country through public land turned over to the cattle industry. The land was flat and I had good views of distant mountains in all directions, most especially the Cooke Range that I was heading towards.

Late afternoon I arrived at the ruins of Fort Cummings that served to protect the Butterfield Stage route and later as a base in the fight against the Apaches. Not much remains but the original spring that was the basis of the settlement in this area is still protected and not available for thirsty thruhikers (or cattle either).

The guidebook descriptions are usually quite accurate, but I just could not make it match what was on the ground leaving the fort ruins, so I finally gave up and headed west, where I found the route. It led to Fryingpan Canyon just before dark where I got water from the spring there and headed down canyon a quarter mile or so to camp. I am about 16 miles from Deming and should arrive there mid-afternoon tomorrow. I am camping below 5000 feet, which I believe is the first time that has happened on the hike. The end must be near.

Spent the night at: N32.45668 W107.68807 Elevation 4967 ft

10/27/05: In Which I Reach Deming

It was the warmest night I can recall on the trail and with a light wind there was no dew on my sleeping bag. I headed down canyon just as the last stars faded, had a bit of trouble with route-finding when headed cross-country, but eventually made my way to the county road I needed to be on.

There I met a man inspecting mine ruins, the first person I had seen in three days. There were soon many more as I reached the outskirts of Deming and then began walking the highway into town. At the edge of town, at the junction of Highway 26, who should I meet but Brian and Lisa. They had been following my footsteps until I got lost in one of the canyon crossings, so they had headed south to highway to make their way into Deming. We exchanged news and then they stopped to get something to eat.

I continued on into downtown and found the motel where Ellie had just registered. After a shower and some fresh vegetables we headed out to stash water in a couple of spots I would be passing on my way to the border. Back in town I got a milkshake and then went back to the motel to clean gear.

We had dinner and then I finished packing for the morning. The plan is for me to hike to Columbus by Saturday evening and spend the night there with Ellie at the B&B. The next morning after a leisurely breakfast we would walk the remaining 3 miles to the border. Reality has a way of upsetting plans but I hope this plan will be followed.

Spent the night at: N32.26765 W107.76390 Elevation 4352 ft

10/28/05: In Which I Enter the Rugged Florida Mountains

I got up at 5:30 and was off before 6:30 with the streetlights of Deming showing me the way for the first half hour or so. Soon I passed the edge of town, but the roads were busy, especially with Border Patrol vehicles. I probably saw 10 within the first hour. Seems like they would be more useful at the actual border, but in the new homeland security police state that we seem to be working ourselves into, I suppose security risks are everywhere.

I had done about 12 miles by 10 and a little after that Ellie stopped to visit bringing fresh vegetables, which were way more palatable than the dry rations in my pack. She went to look over the visitor center at Rockhound State Park while I walked up the road to pick up the water I stashed yesterday. She came back to report I should be wary of rattlesnakes which I dutifully promised to do, then she headed off for Columbus to await my arrival tomorrow night and I trudged on down the now gravel road around the Florida Mountains.

Just when I thought I was done with the traffic, who should come driving toward me but two more border patrol vehicles full of agents. I waved and they rolled the windows down and waved back. One of them wished me a good hike, so I guess they are used to crazy thruhikers passing this way from time to time.

By 3:30 I had finished about 25 miles, usually a full day of hiking, but now it was time to leave the roads and head into the Florida Mountains. I followed a rough track up Victorio Canyon, then went cross-country over the ridge into adjoining Copper Kettle Canyon. I found a jeep trail there I thought I wanted to be on but eventually realized I had come down too far and missed the junction with the other jeep trail, so had to cross-country again to reach that. No sooner had I started up that route than it ended and I needed to climb the ridge to reach Box Canyon.

By the time I got there it was nearly 6 and I was beginning to feel like a pincushion. While the vegetation was not really thick, most of it was cactus or other plants armed with thorns. My arms and legs took some abuse but what was most inadequate were my lightweight running shoes. They are almost always the best, but this is one place where sturdy boots are superior. I struggled up Box Canyon hoping to make it far enough to check out a water source for CDTS, but I finally had to admit I was not going to make it before dark. I also had to consider the thickening clouds overhead and the reality that if I did climb the final ridge less than a mile away, I would be confronted with a difficult descent of 1000 feet in about half a mile (nearly 40% grade). I was struggling on lesser slopes because I was trying to avoid getting punctured, so I feared a really steep slope would be very risky.

I decided, therefore, to retreat down Box Canyon, finally finding six fairly level feet of not too rocky ground to sleep on. My inclination at this point is to try to head on down the canyon and hit the road I would walk if I went over the next ridge and descended, but I will sleep on the plan and see what I feel like doing in the morning. Descending this canyon (there is no jeep trail here like the last two) may be as difficult as going over the ridge, though the topo map shows no cliffs to climb down.

I have not seen any ibex, the introduced curved horn animal that makes these rugged mountains its home, but doubt weaving my way through the remaining obstacles I will be any more likely to spot one.

Spent the night at: N32.05966 W107.62717 Elevation 5789 ft

10/29/05: In Which I Spend My Last Full Day on the Trail and Reach Columbus

I woke at 5:30 but lay there watching the stars as I needed full light to proceed through the steep canyon and pointed vegetation. I decided to go down canyon rather than take on the challenge of the climb over the last ridge. In a way that decision was symbolic of the whole hike: I didn't always go the way I originally intended to when I was sitting at home looking at maps last winter, but one way or another I have found a route that has me almost to the border.

At first light I started down canyon. Nothing too difficult, though in a couple places I had to throw my trekking poles below and scramble down a rocky chute. About halfway down, I ran into a small dam of cemented rock that had filled with sand. Still through the front seeped a bit of water and lower down I found an abandoned water tank system that the dam had apparently fed. From that point, I found a jeep track that led out to the open desert below where it turned southeast, so I went cross-country until I ran into a jeep trail headed the direction I wanted to go, which was southwest.

I am sure there are animals out in the desert, but I saw none, not even cows or jackrabbits. It was just me and the Border Patrol, and they were opting for the air around here. There was a blimp, airplanes, and helicopters. At one point, one of the helicopters swerved and headed toward me and I was all ready for an exciting confrontation to report here in my journal. Alas, they turned and left me unchallenged. I hollered after them that I looked dangerous, had a beard, carried two wicked trekking poles, and had pinned a NO WAR button to my pack, but all to no avail. Clearly I did not meet the profile they were looking for.

Eventually I made it to the highway, went down it for less than a mile and then off to the west on the county road to pick up the route past the Tres Hermanas, the last mountains on the route. I saw a car parked by the water I stashed along the county road, and it turned out to be Ellie, bored waiting in Columbus who had come out to check on me. I took a break to visit with her and then headed into the Greasewood Hills towards the Tres Hermanas.

I got off the route in a couple of places, but found it again each time, once again pretty typical of the hike in general. A little before 5, I strolled down the main street of Columbus and turned down the side street to go to the B&B where Ellie was staying.

I got a shower and then we had dinner together. I am still having a hard time believing the hike is almost over, but tomorrow morning we will get up and hike the last three miles together.

Spent the night at: N31.82963 W107.63912 Elevation 4079 ft

10/30/05: In Which I Reach the Mexican Border To Conclude the Hike

I woke at my usual time before dawn, which as it was also the day when we revert to standard time, by the clock anyway an hour earlier. Eventually we got up and had breakfast. Ellie was more eager than I was to get started to the border. I guess I was feeling a little hesitation after all these months of aiming for this day.

I insisted upon carrying my pack with all my gear to the border, just as I had for the previous 2800+ miles. I wasn't going to give it up now and would certainly be prepared if one of those aliens from Roswell kidnapped me and dumped me in the wilderness.

Ellie set a brisk pace down the highway to the border and I was happy to follow along, savoring the anticipation of the coming arrival at the line. As we approached the border we met a couple walking our way who turned out to be Lisa's parents. We chatted with them and looked back and saw Brian and Lisa coming down the highway. They went on to meet them, while Ellie and I went to the border to take the crossing photos. We waited a couple minutes and then got a picture of Brian and Lisa crossing the border. After congratulations all around, Ellie and I went to the Pink Store in Palomas where she and Andrea had gone with Zack and Buddha to celebrate. We had an early lunch and I even had a celebratory sip of a margarita. It tasted as bad as I thought it would and gave the rest of it to Ellie to finish.

We went back across to the US side where we got in the car (Ellie had shuttled it down earlier with a ride back from the B&B owner) and headed north. We have decided to visit a couple of places in New Mexico before returning home (White Sands and Carlsbad Caverns) since we don't know if we will come back to the state again.

I am still trying to cope with the reality that the hike is over. I feel like additional comments about the hike in general are needed to draw my journal to a close. I will try to get those done in the next few days so they can be posted to the website along with the photos from the conclusion of the hike.

I don't, however, need any more time to know how much I appreciate the support of my wife Ellie during this hike. She has faithfully mailed my resupply boxes and then has come to New Mexico to see me to the border. I couldn't have done it without her. Further, you wouldn't have been able to find out about this hike without the dedication of my daughter LiAnna, who managed to keep both the journal entries and pictures updated regularly. I shall be eternally grateful to both of them and to all of you who have encouraged me along the way.

In Which I Share a Few Final Thoughts on the Continental Divide Trail

I am not sure "Final Thoughts" really belongs in the title as I know I will be thinking about this hike for many years to come. I do, however, want to bring some closure to the journal I have been writing about this hike on a daily basis since I started on June 11.

I get asked quite often what the best and worst places were on the hike. That has turned out to be a difficult question. I suppose I would lean toward areas in Wyoming for both selections. The Wind River Range was probably my favorite spot for the few days I was there, while the desert south of there was the low point of the hike due to the giardia I suffered while walking through to Rawlins. Overall, Colorado had the most spectacular mountains, Montana would have been better if the weather would have allowed me to see more of it, and having never been to New Mexico, I was really struck by the variety and beauty of the landscape there.

While I came out of this hike feeling pretty good (and my massage therapist tells me that my feet are in better shape than they were when I returned from the PCT), this hike was very hard on me both mentally and physically. There were several times when I would have given up if it had been easy to get back home. Instead, I would arrive at the next resupply point with a box from my wife waiting and I would think, "Well, I guess I can go a little farther." Those little farthers finally added up to the incredible journey I have just completed.

My plans from here? Returning home to Oregon to my job and other responsibilities tops the list. I already have several speaking opportunities so I will be working on putting together a PowerPoint presentation with the best pictures from the hike to share with those interested. I also hope to put together my resources and opinions about the CDT in a spot on my website for others to use in planning their hikes. I was especially grateful to those who went before me and shared their experiences, so I want to do the same. Beyond those general comments from previous hikers I would like to specifically thank Jim Wolf of CDTS for the great guidebooks that were indispensable to making my way south and to Jonathon Ley, whose mapped routes were both useful and full of amusing comments.

Where do I hike next? All I have planned is to walk around town and back and forth to work. At this point I have no further interest in undertaking another long-distance hike, but I thought the same thing five years ago when I finished the PCT.

For those who have followed my journal through good verbs and bad and who have weathered my many rants I thank you for your attention. Hopefully I have provided something of interest and if it was not, it certainly was not because the hike was boring. All along when asked about how or when the hike would end, I would always insist that I would take one step at a time and see what happened. Well, a great deal did happen, but now it is time to say "The End.

© 2006 Mark C. Davis • Page Last Updated January 8, 2006