Days 5 - 8
May 1 - 4, 2023
Miles 83.5 - 157.9
My day began in the dark. I woke up at 5am, brushed my teeth, filled my water bottles, and whispered goodbye to the guys. The first stretch of this section began with a 3.5 mile roadwalk out of town and along Highway 70. I saw Magee shortly as we were leaving town, but he quickly fell behind. It's quite easy to describe how enjoyable walking alone along a paved two-lane highway in the dark was: not at all. At least it did not last long. About an hour after leaving the hotel, I had hopped a barbed wire fence where it was marked with flagging tape and set out across this desert used for cattle grazing.
Remarkably, there was no beaten path to follow. It was as if everyone who crossed that fence set out in a different direction. I went slow, cautious of any snakes that may lay hidden in the grass, and kept an eye on my map to make sure I didn't stray too far from the track. At first, there weren't any markers distinguishing the trail, but after a while they began to appear. They were very well spaced apart and I again used my binoculars to scan the horizon for the next one. Eventually, a worn tread appeared and I was able to follow that. Not surprisingly, that didn't stay the course and I ended up off trail again according to the map, and evidenced by the two hikers I saw in the distance standing next to CDT trail markers. I saw that if I continued on the path I was on, then I would come to a dirt road that would eventually intersect the trail if I headed down it. I elected for that rather than bushwhacking through the field towards the other hikers. Two huge saving graces for the morning were that it was overcast so the temperature stayed cool, and I got to see quite a few desert wildflowers blooming.
I walked down the dirt road, keeping my eyes peeled for where the trail crossed it. Once back on trail, it turned into another dirt road, and then a sandy wash. Trudging through the shifting sand, I finally saw my first rattlesnake out here. I heard it rattling some feet away from me. Startled, I turned and saw it poised to strike. I was a little spooked by it, and annoyed that it had caught me so off guard. I had really been trying to stay alert to make sure this exact moment didn't happen. I felt I could hear it cursing at me to get off its lawn.
Now shaken, I continued up the trail. The clouds had burned away and it was hot again. And the shifting sand required more effort, though I moved slower. My feet were aching and I was so relieved to finally get to the water source. A metal trough under a windmill was filled with green water, alive with bees, algae, and whatever other life found it in this water-scarce desert. I sat down under a tree, trying to build up the gumption to collect some of that water, when a snake snuck into view out of the corner of my eye. Already on edge from the rattlesnake, I jumped and yelled. I wasn't quite sure what it was, but I quickly realized it was harmless enough. I thought it may have been a type of garter snake. I watched as it made its way over to the water trough, then up the side, and then watched as it drank for a long time. If I wasn't already humbled by the state of this water source, I certainly felt it now as I witnessed who I shared it with. Later I learned that it was a Striped whipsnake, Coluber taeniatus, a first for me. Nice.
The two hikers that I had seen earlier arrived. They were quiet, and I was feeling a little beaten down and didn't have the energy for much conversation. Plus, I had gotten a nose bleed from how dry the air was and was still trying to clean the blood off of my face and hands and didn't need an audience. But I watched one of the guys collect water and felt encouraged. Swiping away the bugs, I dipped my water bladder and collected from below the surface. Although the water was slightly tinted green, I was surprised at many organisms I had managed to avoid. It came out surprisingly clear through the filter. It was cold and actually tasted pretty good. Cheers!
I wasn't hungry yet, so I shoved my aching feet back into my shoes and continued on for another several miles. I followed a dirt road that left the desert floor and started climbing into the mountains. I passed by the 100 mile marker. Someone had used rocks to mark the occasion. I was glad, as I otherwise wouldn't have noticed this small accomplishment. A little ways on, the dirt road ended and became a single track trail. Amazingly, this trail started to wind its way under trees! Real trees! More than one tree! It finally felt like a real trail. There were even CDT markers nailed to the tree limbs. I had entered the Gila National Forest, US Forest Service land. Despite the heat, my aching feet, the dismal water sources, and the roadwalks, my spirits lifted a little.
I found a shady spot, right along trail, and sat down to eat some lunch. I also really wanted to take my shoes and socks off. I could feel blisters forming on my toes and heels from how sweaty my feet had been. The breeze felt good on them. I hadn't been sitting for too long before someone passed me. His name was Yeti and he was very friendly. He told me the water cache 9.5 miles ahead at the Burro peak trailhead was good. I had seen very little information about this cache and didn't trust it. I expressed my doubts, but he assured me it was good. I was still skeptical, but the idea of clean water right on trail compared to filtering out of another cow trough was quite alluring. I figured if he was wrong, then at least I'd have someone to blame other than myself (note: this is Not a good survival tip). If I was going to hike another 3 miles, then I needed to get going. As I was packing up, Yeti left and another hiker passed by me. His name was Tinder Slayer and he had been hiking with Yeti. He was going to the same place and we ended up hiking the whole way there together, chatting most of the way. It was really nice. Normally I like hiking alone, but I had experienced so much solitude on this trail that it was nice to have someone other than myself to talk to for a while.
We hiked under more of this beautiful tree lined trail. After the roadwalks, cow fields, and low desert, it felt marvelous to be in this glorious high desert forest. I enjoyed this section of trail immensely and stopped more often to take photos. We had over nine miles to go and I had already done over 20. I was feeling it. Talking was a good distractor from the distance we had to walk, how sore my legs, hips, and glutes were, and how painful the heel blisters were becoming. When we arrived, I quickly found a site to set up camp. I overheard someone say it might rain so I pulled out my tent for the first time on this hike. I had forgotten how cozy and homey it felt. It was good to be back inside it.
I joined Yeti and Tinder Slayer for dinner over at the camp of the Trail Angels, Phoenix and Scott, who were so kind to leave out gallons of water here for the hikers each day. It was lovely eating dinner and chatting with new friends. I didn't linger too long after I finished eating. As much as I was enjoying myself, I was exhausted and wanted to get to bed.
I allowed myself to sleep in a little the next morning. I saw the sunrise from the campground as I was packing up and getting ready to leave. I felt so lucky that there were trees for the sun to rise behind now. It appeared I was the first one up, but I saw the others moving about and getting their things ready. I figured it wouldn't be too long until I saw them.
I started slow, listening to the Spotted towhees sing their morning songs from their trees. It was such a beautiful morning and I was savoring it. Also, it was 1,600ft elevation gain over 4.5 miles. Not bad, but I definitely noticed it. Everything just kept getting more beautiful the higher I climbed. I was so excited when I began to see Ponderosa trees. I walked up to the first one I saw, pressed my nose against its red bark, and inhaled deeply. Ponderosas smell like butterscotch or vanilla. I'm always flooded with childhood memories of baking chocolate chip cookies with my mom when I smell them because of the vanilla aroma. If you haven't tried this for yourself, I recommend it. The natural world holds so many delightful secrets.
I crossed the summit of Burro Peak, just over 8,000ft in elevation. Hearing a flock of birds in the trees, I pulled out my binoculars and spent some time with them. I saw some old favorites like the White breasted nuthatch and Townsend's solitaire, and two new species for myself: Olive warbler and Grace's warbler. These tiny birds are so colorful and beautiful and I was thrilled I got to see them. Despite walking slow all morning and stopping to bird for about 15 minutes, I still didn't see anyone catch up to me.
Continuing on, it was all downhill. Going down the mountain wasn't nearly as nice as the incline. It felt steep and jarring on my knees and toes. As I lost elevation, I also lost the shaded pine forest. It was growing hot. But at the bottom, I crossed my first natural water source along trail! It was a little wild that it took over 120 miles to come across this first source. I gathered water and sat on a nearby rock, enjoying the sounds of flowing water for a while. I watched as five cows appeared from the trees to drink from the creek, although they spooked when they saw me. I sat there for a while, but still didn't see anyone else. I wasn't used to how solitary this trail was and it was getting hard trying not to feel lonely.
I hiked on for another few hours. The pine forest had opened up into more of an oak woodland, usually one of my favorite ecosystems, although the increased exposure to the heat made it harder for me to enjoy. I saw another new and exciting (for me) bird – a Dark eyed Junco of the red backed group. There are several different subspecies of the junco and I usually only ever see the Oregon group where I am from.
I also saw my first gopher snake on this trail. It was a big beautiful snake, with a bit of a sassy attitude. Gopher snakes have usually been quite docile and calm when I've seen them before. But this one vibrated its tail, mimicking a rattlesnake and stared at me. I thought this one looked at me similarly to the glares you deservedly get when you walk into a restaurant ten minutes before it closes.
The trail dropped further down into a canyon. I was getting near to where I had planned on camping for the night. As I got closer, I realized I had made a mistake. It was a riparian area with a small creek running through, but it was narrow and had no good places to camp with enough distance from the water source. Plus, the flying insects that sought this place out aimed for my nose and eyes and were quite off-putting. I trudged a couple miles further through a road/wash of shifting sand looking for a decent enough place to set up my tent, noting the Spotted towhees singing their evening songs.
I was feeling really down. I had started crying as I walked down into the canyon, wondering what I was doing out here. I couldn't stop thinking of home. My head has felt like it has been back in California rather than here on trail the last week. I never felt this way on the other two big trails. I went through desert and heat on the PCT, and experienced loneliness on the AT, and still it was so easy to be out on both of them. I had been eager to face those challenges with joy and excitement. I don't know why the CDT felt so different. Why did I struggle through what I knew I was capable of? Every day so far, I have been excited and happy to be out here, and also homesick and not enjoying myself. I felt pulled in different directions of expectations of myself. Was I wasting my time on this trail when I should be home with my family? Was I really not tough enough to do this trail? All these feelings and thoughts scared me and made me spiral into questioning who I was as a hiker.
I set up my tent just as it was getting dark. I wasn't hungry, but knew after another high mileage day that I should eat. I didn't care though. I was tired, sad, and sore and aching all over. I just wanted to sleep and escape from my doubts just for a little while.
I woke up cold in the canyon. Since I accidentally pushed bigger miles yesterday, I didn't have too much farther to go to get out of it. I passed by a cow water tank, the last water before I'd reach Silver City. It smelled bad and my mood, already on teeters, quickly soured at the necessity of this source. Thankfully at least, the road turned from the soft shifting sand into hard packed dirt. I heard Gambel's quails calling out to each other as I passed them by. Too soon, I reached the roadwalk.
The trail left the quiet dirt road and turned onto the paved Highway 180. I walked for about 13 miles along this two lane highway into Silver City. It was hot and the pavement was hard on my feet. There was no relief from the sun. And the highway didn't have much in the way of a shoulder so it was quite frightening every time a car came zooming past me, which unfortunately was quite often. I listened to The Magician's Nephew, the first book of The Chronicles of Narnia by C. S. Lewis to distract my brain from the walk. One earbud out of course, to keep an ear on the traffic coming at me.
I took Market St. into town as it diverted from the highway sooner and led straight into the downtown area. As I walked into the small city, I found a small shaded park and called my best friend. She excitedly asked me how it was going and I immediately broke down crying, flooding her with all of the negative thoughts and emotions I've had. It was the first time I said aloud that I wanted to quit. A week into my grand hike and I wanted out.
I booked a room at the Murray hotel for two nights, I needed to take a full rest day tomorrow and sort myself out before I threw myself back out there. While I was there, I met another CDT hiker. I couldn't help myself and it didn't take long for me to spill out all of my thoughts and emotions again, now to a stranger. She listened and echoed many of my thoughts. I was surprised to hear that she was also feeling a little beaten down by this trail. It was validating to hear that I wasn't the only one struggling. She was really sweet and we made dinner plans for later.
The next day was spent out on the town. I had saved all of my chores for my zero day. After doing laundry and my resupply, I sat in the middle of town and talked to my best friend for a couple hours. I was feeling better today, at least a little. I had decided that it was too soon to quit. The next section was the Gila River alternate which everyone raves about. I needed to have a beautiful experience, with plenty of good water, on trail before I made any decisions.
Never quit on a bad day, they say.
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