Spent a Little Time on the Mountain: CDT '24 Wrap-Up
Five months, 2300 miles, infinite memories.
This article was originally published on November 3, 2024 on The Trek.co.
Greetings from the other side of the CDT!
We've been off trail for a month now, and the time has flown by, even though every individual day has felt a hundred hours long. Now that I'm not walking ten to twelve hours a day, there is so much time--and most of it I have allowed to slip past me like water, or to be sloshed about on purposeful, non-urgent pastimes. The dust bunnies that live behind the bathtub have been vanquished at last, and my sock drawer has never looked more orderly. We’ve also taken several very long walks, because our brains can’t seem to function without it.
I am just beginning to feel like a townsperson again. I've finally stopped wearing the same outfit every day, and can (usually) manage to walk through the kitchen without eating butter off the dish. The other day I had lunch with a friend and managed not to pocket the several packets of mayo provided on the table (but I really wanted to). I've hauled all of my fall clothes out of the attic and given some of them away, had drinks around fires with friends, and started reading several hardbound books without caring how much they weigh. I've taken at least one hot bath for each day we've been home, and often two. I've even found the scooping of kitty litter to be somehow enjoyable, akin to raking a Zen garden. I'm sleeping ten or twelve hours a night, no matter when I go to bed. Nobody really knows why we sleep, but we know that repair happens then--I must need a lot of repair.
Underneath it all, a new understanding is coalescing in my mind. If you'd asked me three weeks ago whether the CDT changed my life, I'd probably have said no. Now I start to understand how much has changed, and how much is yet to unfold. (No big answers today, folks--you'll have to wait for the book.)
Today I'm sharing some reflections on this five-month, 2300-mile journey in the form of an increasingly deranged set of lists.
Without further ado, in dramatic countdown fashion:
Favorite On-Trail Days
This was challenging to narrow down. Every day was good in its own way, and far more were great than terrible. Some highlights, in hindsight:
5. Georgia Pass (Day 79) -- A hard-fought climb to a gorgeous pass with a view of Mt. Guyot, and the fantastic moment when we diverged from the Colorado Trail and headed toward Grays & Torreys, which we would reach the day after next.
4. Hyalite Porcupine Buffalo Horn Wilderness (Day 153) -- Our next-to-last day on trail had all our favorites in proportion: beautiful views, rolling trail, burbling creeks, and a stealthy campsite on a sheltered bluff. We didn't need the fly, and the stars were magnificent.
3. Conejos River route to Platoro (Day 54) -- This was the day after one of our worst, when I fought the trail and the trail won. Today I was a marvel on the snow by contrast, and we decided to skip around the danger at Summit Peak by taking a side trail down, down, down to a lush river valley.
2. Chinese Wall (Day 128) -- After enduring rain, snow, and miserable cold the day before, Mellow and I were beside ourselves with joy on this sunny, high-mile day in the Bob Marshall Wilderness, and ran into friends, too!
1. Grays & Torreys Debacle (Day 81) -- Our favorite day on trail was also the hardest, when we pushed ourselves beyond our limits after making an iffy choice on our route up to the saddle between Grizzly and Torreys--the epitome of Type II fun. We were then escorted down from Grays by a nanny goat and her kid.
Favorite Trail Towns
What makes a trail town a fave? It can be many things, but it's usually the people. Here's where I had the best time, and why:
5. Reserve, NM -- We had planned to hike from Doc Campbell’s to Pie Town without stopping, but rations were low. We shared a shuttle with Little Bird, Mogul, and Second Wind, and met Log Man in town—and together we had a marvelous birthday party for Saint. This was where our nascent trail family really gelled. I bought a pair of silly gloves for $2 that turned out to be essential, and we had AYCE tacos.
4. Encampment, WY -- This was my first town without Saint, and I arrived after a big struggle through blowdowns and briars on the Encampment trail. I was blown away by the hospitality of siblings Joan (who runs the Pine Lodge) and David (who runs the restaurant next door, The Divide) and by the friendliness and interest shown by everyone I encountered in this tiny town. Trail angel Patty Ramirez showed up five minutes after I texted her to take me back to trail. I would have happily stayed a week there, despite the lack of grocery options--there are two gas stations down the road with snacks and treats, and Joan let me borrow her car to resupply. Absolutely amazing. It was also the best ribeye steak I ate on trail, of which there were several.
3. East Glacier, MT -- The Looking Glass Basecamp, aka Luna's place, was my favorite place I stayed on trail, and not for the creature comforts. (The first night I slept on the floor beside snoring compatriots, and the second night in my tent in the back yard.) The full commercial kitchen, the million bits of info and advice on the walls, the fun and chipper way Luna engages with everyone, and most of all the joy of seeing hikers arrive as they prepared to tackle the home stretch of Glacier National Park made me feel reconnected to the trail after my week at home, and was the stage for several fond reunions as people at the head of the pack came rolling in, not seen by me since New Mexico. If I had come here before I started hiking southbound in Glacier after my flip I might have been buoyed enough not to need the trip home--but then I wouldn't have been there to meet the folks I met, due to poor timing. It all worked out as it should. This is also where Mellow drove up to meet me so we could hike the Bob Marshall Wilderness section together. If you're hiking the CDT, I highly recommend you go to Luna's both before and after you hike Glacier!
2. Ghost Ranch, NM -- Ghost Ranch, famously the site of Georgia O'Keeffe's home and the filming location for many a cowboy movie, is now a retreat center owned by the Presbyterian church. It's not on the red line, but on the Ghost Ranch Alternate, so in a typical year perhaps half the hikers show up here. This year the Los Indios fire closed the official trail south of the junction with the alternate, so everyone going NOBO after that date was redirected here, arriving either by 31-mile paved road walk or by shuttle from the Coyote Ranger station. As a result it was maybe the biggest collection of hikers in one place we ever encountered on trail, except maybe for Chama. We made new friends, and deepened friendships with others we'd already met, all in a summer camp setting. It turned out that the front desk folks had given every CDT hiker identical advice: when you go to dinner, make sure to get your dessert first, because it might run out--advice we all took to heart. Saint and I were really struggling the day or two before that, and arrived in a fractious mood, but the smiling faces of fellow hikers quickly turned us around. Some folks we saw here, we didn't see again until we were heading southbound--which by then felt like a million years ago, just like summer camp.
1. Chama, NM-- What a joy! We were there twice: once just after finishing Colorado, and again after we took a week off in Santa Fe to let the San Juans snow melt. This meant we got to see lots and lots of other hikers there. On our first visit, we had intended to stay for two nights and then take the free bus to Santa Fe--but then we learned the bus didn't run on Saturdays, and we had to wait another day for a ride with Tumbleweed. As a result we were in town for Chama Western Heritage Days, where I attended my first-ever rodeo, and saw a little kid survive a sheep rolling over on top of him in the Mutton Busting event. We had espresso and pastries (several times) at Wilder Bakehouse, and were so fond of the innkeeper at Cumbres Suites that we started referring to her as "Mom." Add to all this the $3 a la carte enchiladas and chile rellenos at Foster's Bar, which has friendly bartenders and a killer jukebox, and you're never going to want to leave. When it's time to head north, you may do so by historic coal-powered train. What's not to love?
Honorable mention towns: Creede, Pagosa Springs, Pie Town, Rawlins, Dubois, Butte, and last but not least, Gritty Gargantuan Grants, where we had an amazing time with our trail family despite the challenges.
Top CDT Gear
Since I started backpacking in 2012 I've always delighted in the post-trail ritual of naming a Most Valuable Player from among my gear--the piece that was surprisingly essential, effective, or otherwise stood out as a trip-maker. MVP doesn't necessarily mean "most essential" or "most often used"--otherwise your shelter or sleep system would probably always win. The idea is to highlight pieces of gear that exceeded expectations in one way or another. (Also, I’ve already effusively shared how much we love the Big Agnes Copper Spur HV UL2, acquired way back in Silver City. Still no complaints!)
Runner Up #2: Vargo BOT HD 1L titanium cook pot with handles and watertight lid--great for cooking, cold-soaking, and carrying water. Cooks better with less fuel, big enough for dinner for two. (Read Owen Eigenbrot's recent review here.)
Runner Up #1: Montbell Versalite rain jacket. This was a last-minute decision, and I agonized over it--so what if my old Outdoor Research Helium was wetting out at the first drop, all rain jackets kinda suck anyway, right? Was it worth $260 to try to be actually dry? Yes. Yes it was. Great pockets and a slightly longer tail so you don't get a wet butt from the rain rolling down your pack. This jacket pretty much saved my life in the Bob Marshall, keeping me dry and just warm enough in unexpected sleet and snow. In my old jacket I would've had to stop and build a fire. The hood easily tightens around my face, and the velcro at the cuffs keeps the water from creeping in.
And the winner, for being the biggest unexpected game-changer:
MVP: Aspen pack by Symbiosis Gear.
I started the trail with a different, very popular pack and it was "fine," just as it had been on past hikes. I'd certainly had worse. Like many women hikers I didn't think a better fit was possible until I met Symbiosis founder and designer Mellow on trail, and tried on hers. I bought my own just before heading into Colorado. This ultralight, frameless 38L pack sits perfectly against the middle of my back, freeing up my hips for maximum flexibility and stability. I crawled over and under countless blowdowns without needing to adjust it. It has a comfy, narrower cut but still fits everything I need, and the straps are set closer together for better shoulder movement. The sternum strap has a stretch loop, and can easily be moved up or down along the main straps. It even has a hidden pocket on the bottom for stowing snacks--I can reach in and get them without taking off the pack! (You don't have to have boobs to wear it--it's for anyone with a narrower frame who doesn't find a good fit with "unisex" packs.) I was stopped many, many times on trail by people asking what pack it was, and I was happy to express my missionary zeal.
Top Three Trail Foods I Could Eat Every Day
3. Luna Bar, Nuts Over Chocolate flavor. This chocolate-peanut butter bar is just the right balance of protein, fat, and carbs, always tastes good, and was my Second Breakfast nearly every day. Weirdly, these bars are made by the Clif Bar folks, but I can't stand Clif bars at all. This particular flavor is the best one, and unlike some of the others is never a dried-out brick. It's also the most-often sold-out flavor, so sometimes I had to settle for coconut. (Full disclosure, a Luna bar plus a piece of fruit was also my typical work lunch pre-trail. Confidential to Sydney: I hear you yelling at your laptop that I am 90% Luna bar.)
2. Whey protein shake with collagen, salt, a little sugar, and some crushed up freeze dried strawberries. I also made up this mix in chocolate, coffee, and peanut butter flavors, and I loved them all. I started drinking recovery shakes on trail a few years ago, after too many episodes of achy, restless legs and a growling stomach waking me in the middle of the night. I drink the shake as soon as I get to camp, and wait an hour before having dinner.
I used Earth Fed Muscle brand whey and collagen because they digest the best for me; YMMV. There have been times off trail that I've gone for a long walk or a run just to have an excuse to drink a recovery shake.
1. Mexicali Rose freeze-dried refried beans, Original flavor. I had never seen these until we visited our first grocery store in New Mexico, and I wish you could find them in every town on trail. They are better than canned, and nearly as good as cooking them from scratch. On trail I mix the whole package into some boiling water, let stand five minutes, then stir in a package of Fritos and a couple pieces of cheddar if I have it. But even by themselves they are exquisite, no seasoning necessary. One package (5 off-trail servings, 1-2 on-trail servings) has 30 grams of protein and 50 grams of fiber!
Top Three Trail Foods I Am Sick Of
In general, my food strategy worked out as planned. We loved our homemade dinners, and later in the hike when we needed to add more calories we expanded them with things like mashed potatoes and instant rice. We still ate our share of store-bought foods, especially for snacks and lunches. Here’s what got old:
3. Ramen. I ate only a few packages of standard wheat ramen on trail, including some super spicy ones. Those tend to sit in my stomach like a stone, and I'm not a fan of all the grease, and how hard it is to get said grease out of the threads of the Talenti lid. But now I'm even sick of rice ramen, which I didn't think would be possible. The insipid slip of the noodles, the aftertaste of rehydrated bits of vegetable, the vague bouillon powder taste... bleah. I'd rather skip having a "real lunch" than eat more ramen, hot or cold.
2. Bars with dates in them. If you spend much time in the protein / energy bars aisle at your grocer, you'll see lots that brag about being entirely plant based. The dirty secret is that most of these have dates as their first ingredient, which is basically the hippie version of pouring sugar into your mouth. They are too much--I get a stomach ache and crash an hour later. Can't do it anymore.
One exception: I can still enjoy an Apple Pie Lärabar now and then, despite the dates, because they are crammed full of cinnamon and walnuts. But I'd better eat it with some cheese or beef jerky to balance out the pure sugar.
1. Orange Pedialyte. This is highly specific to my food poisoning experience in Cuba, NM. We like to buy Pedialyte or Electrolit when we get to town, along with some tomato juice or V8, all of which are great for restoring electrolyte balance. But I got so sick in Cuba that for 24 hours I couldn't even keep Pedialyte down, and the flavor we had on hand was orange. Might be done with that one forever, as with the ill-advised ceviche that made me sick. I hope I'm not done with green chile, but I'm not ready to find out.
Top Six Dumb Songs Stuck In My Head On Trail
The sounds of nature are a delight, but after a while there is too much quiet. In off-trail life we are bombarded with content--even the gas pump won't shut up. At first the escape from all the beeping and blooping of modern life was a relief. Then I started to crave music, podcasts, books--and didn't have the battery power to indulge very often. So my brain dug up some fun old gems with which to torture (or soothe) me. I should also mention that I have a subconscious knack for starting to hum or sing a song based on how I'm feeling--and not realize what's happening until the pertinent lyric comes around. Saint calls me the Human Jukebox. Here's how it went:
6. Live Wires shoe jingle from 1984. Look at her shoes! Look at her feet! She's wearing LIVE WIRES, that's a kid we wanna meet! Notice the girl doing the backflip on the lunchroom table: this was the year gymnast Mary Lou Retton got a perfect ten at the Olympics, and every little girl in America wanted to be her. And for you Zoomers reading this, yes, it really was like that: things were in style or they absolutely weren't, and if you weren't fashionable you would absolutely pay for that. Better have those jelly bracelets and a sweater skirt or you can't sit with us at lunch. Those pin-stripe jeans are soooo three months ago. Maybe I was anxious about fitting in out there? Or maybe I just really, really liked my shoes. (I did.)
5. Live and Let Die, Paul McCartney and Wings. Over and over and over again. I don't know why. Maybe my subconscious thought I was James Bond. (And no, it was never the Guns N' Roses version--how dare they!)
4. Galileo, Indigo Girls. This is not a dumb song by any means, but it got stuck in my head for a dumb reason: walking along trying to sing it, I was sure I was missing two lines, because the verses needed to be symmetrical. But what could it POSSIBLY be that came before or after the "then I think about my fear of motion" bit? Did I have other parts in the wrong place? I couldn't check, because we had no signal--and for at least a thousand miles I kept forgetting to look it up when we were in town, only to remember as soon as we got back on trail, when it started playing in my head again.
It turns out nothing was missing--the second verse has only one stanza. I will now remember this for the rest of my life.
3. Theme song from Mr. Belvedere. Why? WHY??? I don't know. But it was always there, lurking. "According to our new arrival, life is more than mere survival--we just might live the good life yet." Make of it what you will--and be sure to whistle the piano part at the end when you're out hiking.
2. Theme song to The Dukes of Hazzard , by the incomparable Waylon Jennings. We sang it in every state, and when we got to grizzly country we integrated it into our deterrence strategy, singing at the tops of our lungs with modified lyrics, e.g., "JUST TWO GOOD OL' BEARS, NEVER MEANING NO HARM, just stay over there and don't bite me on my arm."
We also channeled the Beatles (Heyyyy bears, stay over there...), the Beastie Boys (Bears! Yeah all I really want is bears...), and Mötley Crüe (BEARS, BEARS, BEARS...).
This final song was the most earworm of all. It snuck into my brain for the first time on a sketchy snow traverse high in the San Juans. I didn't even realize why I was singing it until I got to the chorus, and then it clicked: my brain wanted me to GET THE HELL OFF THIS MOUNTAIN. Thereafter I found myself humming it for comfort on every difficult traverse or descent, and it became a kind of anthem to get me through tough spots.
**drum roll**
and the winner is...
1. Low by Flo Rida, featuring T-Pain.
How can anything too serious happen to a person who is singing, "APPLE BOTTOM JEANS, BOOTS WITH THE FURRRR...?" But what a way to go, if you do slide off that cornice.
"When she slipped she was listening to a song about going home with a stripper. We don't know what it means."
Top Three Things We’d Do Differently
3. Great Divide Basin in June, skip Santa Fe.
After completing New Mexico we took a week off in Santa Fe to wait for the snow to melt a bit in the San Juans. No regrets about waiting—we had a much easier time than those who went into the snow the week prior.
But if I could do it over again I’d take a shorter break in Taos instead, and then travel up to Wyoming to hike the Great Divide Basin before returning to Chama to enter Colorado. By the time I reached the Basin it was too hot and most water was dried up. Ironically if I hadn’t been so opposed to that small flip up, I wouldn’t have needed to do the big flip later. (But of course flipping SOBO had its own rewards—we got to see everyone again!)
2. Down jacket from the start, snow gear at Chama.
While I didn’t need my puffy jacket in the Bootheel, I could have used it long before Grants, which is where I had sent it from home. We had some chilly nights and mornings in the desert, and I had to get by with no puffy or mid-layer. (The gloves I got in Reserve helped a lot.)
The Grants box also had our microspikes, warm base layers, and heavier socks—none of which were needed until Colorado, so we paid to send them on to Chama. I’d send them straight there.
1. Make Saint eat more. I would somehow, magically perhaps, get Saint to eat more food in New Mexico and Colorado so he could have stayed on trail the whole time. It took me years of backpacking to dial in my food needs, so I should have been a little more adamant that he was underfeeding himself. On the other hand we all have to hike our own hike—and now he has learned for himself that pigging out in town is not gluttony, but a necessity, especially for men—they don’t hold onto as much body fat.
Top Five Strange and Wondrous Things That Happened to Me on the CDT
Again, very difficult to narrow down! Every day was a miracle in some way or other.
5. Cooking a free hearty breakfast (along with fellow camp cook Second Wind) for our whole trail family at Davila Ranch, along the dusty road to Pie Town. We had heard there would be breakfast, but we had no clue how epic--eggs, beans, potatoes, onions, and Valentina hot sauce. Plus free laundry and showers. Thanks, John Davila!
4. That time my pack caught on fire while walking into Rawlins, WY, causing me to flip north. 'Nuff said.
3. Cold, ripe black plums when I needed them most--after saying a past trail angel's name out loud three times, Beetlejuice style. (In my ecstasy I failed to take a photo.) This was only half an hour before my pack caught fire, leading me to believe I was using magic I didn't understand.
2. Unexpectedly running into Happy Six and D20 off-trail at least four times: in Grants, at KJ & Nick's in Platoro, at an REI in Dillon, and at the Greyhound station in SLC. Seriously, what were the odds, with all the flips we both did?
1. Cowboy Brigadoon Finally, a teaser for one of many stories I never shared on the blog: our magical, weird, grimy, educational, inspiring half-day in gritty, tiny Jeffrey City, Wyoming. I'm saving it for the book, where there will be more room for context and rumination--none of the people involved deserve to be the butts of jokes. For now I'll just say it involves a billy goat, a rodeo champ-turned-potter, an oil rig crew, cattle rustling, the Wyoming prison system, and something called a Rattlesnake Burger.
Vital Statistics
Miles hiked: 2300+
Miles remaining (including fire closures): 300, give or take
Money spent at the post office: $1100 for two hikers, which is still way cheaper than if we'd bought commercial hiker meals instead of mailing ourselves lentils and quinoa. This included some unexpected re-sending due to flips and changing plans.
Nights in hotels: 45 (yes I am a platinum-blazing fool)
Nights cowboy camping: 15 (mainly in New Mexico--no bugs, and too much wind!)
Pairs of hiking shoes: Five (all Topo Traverse, and all replaced 100 miles later than they should've been)
Sun hoodies: Three (the alpaca didn't hold up, y'all...)
Lost hats: Two -- one in Santa Fe, one in Augusta.
Times I spilled dinner on the ground: One.
It was egg noodles, peas, and tuna. I had just finished stirring the tuna into the screaming hot noodles when the pot slipped from between my knees and toppled. It splashed up on our shoes, extra fun in grizzly country. I ate as much of it off the ground as I possibly could, deciding to pretend that all the little black flecks were pepper. The bits that were more dirt than noodle I buried. Hilariously, it was Saint's first night back on trail, heading south from Helena. I had been such an efficient machine, I thought, in his absence--and now was fumbling around like it was day one. (At least it was noodles and not rice.)
And miraculously, despite foot troubles aplenty on past hikes:
Blisters: ZERO. I truly lead a charmed life.
Thank you for following along!
This is my final dispatch for CDT '24. I hope you've enjoyed our travel together these past seven months, from pre-trail prep to post-trail reflections. Your comments, emails, and quiet well-wishes kept me going on the toughest days.
Please don't be a stranger!
If you'd like to keep reading what I write, you can find me on Instagram at @swisscakehikes, and on Substack at The Green Album, where I'll be sharing excerpts from my book in progress, along with essays, trip reports, and reflections on life outdoors.
Wherever you are, I hope you'll take some time today and every day to go outside, look at the sky, and touch a tree— or if you prefer, a big wise rock.
Cheers,
Liz / Swisscake
