Continental Divide Trail: Days 21-30
- Madelyn Dukart
- May 30
- 23 min read
Day 21
Forward progress: 16.0 miles
Total distance on trail: 346.3 miles
Pie Town was a weirdly easy town to stay in, even if we were confined to a diner, the room attached to the diner, and a hostel that could pass for a museum. Part of it is that the best option for camping on the way out of town is 16 flat dirt road miles away -- not enough to constitute a full day of hiking, which forces hikers to stay until at least early afternoon before leaving. If you run into friends or get a little too comfortable, it's easy to stay another night.
I left around noon. Most of my friends either left yesterday or will tomorrow, but I knew of a few hikers heading out today.
The road walk was uneventful. I had good enough service to call my sister to wish her a happy birthday, but not consistent enough service to make more calls. Besides, a workday afternoon didn't really lend itself to many eligible recipients. I did enjoy the musical theater playlist that Spotify made for me, and I hiked about half of my miles before taking a break.
I ended up catching a man called The Chairman, who I started with on the shuttle, at one of his breaks, which I joined. He tends to keep to himself, but I liked having some company and conversation on the road to make the miles go. We also ended up getting a few bottles of Gatorade from a passing car (there were a surprising amount of cars on this dirt road to and from nowhere). I'm pleasantly surprised with all the generosity toward hikers in this area!
5.5 hours after leaving Pie Town, breaks included, I found myself at TLC Ranch. They provide space for tenters, water jugs, a table with chairs on a wind-sheltered patio, and an outhouse. Along this road, which evidently has traffic, having a tucked away place to go is a godsend. Additionally, the road is surrounded entirely by private land, so camping anywhere else is illegal. The owner, Larry, came out while we were eating dinner to restock a cooler with fruits. I went ham on the grapes. Larry was telling us that before COVID, he and his wife used to invite hikers in for meals, but since some family members have health concerns, they no longer feel comfortable having strangers enter their home. They came up with the current setup because they felt compelled to continue helping hikers, but needed to do so at a distance. He and his wife could have said that it was too expensive, too challenging, none of their business, and stopped providing any services, and it would have been so understandable; instead, they found a solution. It's genuinely so moving, all these people who have no need to provide any support for hikers but do because they feel called to.
Day 22
Forward progress: 25.0 miles
Total distance on trail: 371.3 miles
I think that was my best night of sleep on trail. I woke up as early as I did only because the roosters and donkeys at the ranch told me to. I could have stayed there for ages. Helps that it was *gasp* above freezing overnight.
The first 7 or so miles to the first water source were a breeze. People love to hate on all the road walks on the CDT, but the dirt roads are actually so nice. Boring and monotonous, sure, but easy and flat and fast. 7 miles may be our shortest water carry on trail yet, now that I think about it.
I took about an hour at that water break waiting for The Chairman and Hiep (pronounced like "hip", who arrived at TLC Ranch just before sunset) to figure out what kind of miles they were planning. I was originally planning 22, but the extra 9 to get to a picnic area wasn't looking so bad... Hiep talked me into it, although I'm the faster hiker, so I figured I'd have the most time to make the final mileage decision.
The dirt road continued for 5 or so more miles before we turned into the El Malpais National Conservation Area. The trail was loose sand, which slowed me down considerably. It eventually became a dirt trail again, but shortly after some very haunted-looking homestead remnants, I lost the trail and got about a half mile lost. The audiobook I was listening to was putting me in a bad headspace, talking about homicide and crimes against women, and it was unusually overcast, and I kept stumbling across random animal bones, so I was in an overall anxious mood. When I finally re-joined the trail, I was glad to see it was a straightforward road again, until I realized it was several more miles of loose sand. I hate loose sand. I was genuinely excited to reconnect to the dirt road, which will be home until we turn onto the highway tomorrow.
I think part of my bad mood today can be attributed to dehydration. When I know I have a long water carry, I tend to drink a lot less water, even if I'm carrying plenty, because subconsciously I worry about running out and getting lost and not having enough to drink. In the 16 miles between the water source in the morning and the water tank I got to at the end of the day (which ended up 25 miles instead of 22 or 31), I only drank 3/4 of a liter of water. Definitely not my best move. I was grateful to sit and chug for a while where I had plenty more water at my disposal.
At the water source, I ran into a hiker called Pi, who I've seen on and off since the beginning. He's a little more energy than I'm always up for, but super nice dude. I was glad to see someone at the end of a long day, and he agreed to camp at the same site as me, since I was clearly in a bad mood and I hate camping alone. Hiep ended up joining us as well, the three of us around a single tree, hoping for any shelter from the wind.
After drinking water, making dinner, and talking with other hikers, my mood drastically improved. And we got a gorgeous sunset to boot.
Day 23
Forward progress: 19.4 miles
Total distance on trail: 390.7 miles
The wind was not my friend last night. I was awake too much, but I slept well when I actually slept. Good thing most of today was mindless road walking.
It was technically above freezing, but the wind made it feel worse. I started the day wearing my rain pants (a better wind block than my sweatpants), my sweatshirt, my puffy jacket, and gloves. I removed all the layers after about 20 minutes, but they were necessary at the beginning.
Pretty quickly this morning, we turned off of the friendly dirt road and joined NM Highway 117, a paved highway. There wasn't a steady stream of traffic, but there were enough cars that I was grateful to not have to relieve myself, because where would I hide?
The picnic spot I thought about getting to last night is the start of a trail called the Narrows Rim Trail. Many hikers choose to do this trail side quest, which runs parallel to the highway from above, for a respite from the pavement. It adds only a mile and only marginally more elevation change. It ends at an overlook for La Ventana Natural Arch, and the highway leads to a parking lot that goes to the arch at ground level. This was by far the most scenic part of the past few days.
The trail is technically an out-and-back, but hikers more practiced and experienced than I have found a way to connect the trail to the far side parking lot by scrambling down a "path" and connecting gullies. This may come as a shock to you, but I (say it with me now) got super turned around. Well... ok so there's a black dashed line on my map that counts as the "official" trail connector, and my mistake was to try to follow it when I was feeling lost. I should have actually just trusted my instincts and abilities. There was a section that made me feel a little cliffed out (which is to say the rocks were a higher drop than would be comfortable or safe), and I tried to get away from them, but then I got led back to them after a half hour detour, and they actually were fine upon further inspection. I am glad for basic climbing experience, but it was actually fine.
The remaining 8.5 miles were highway road walking. I wanted to get to the ranger station, which was the next water source (so for anyone keeping track, that's another 20ish mile carry). During those 3 hours, I experienced my first rain on trail! It was fairly light, and I was glad to give my sun umbrella a task after so much time off. After the rain stopped, it never got sunny again, and the clouds kept getting thicker and thicker. I knew a storm was coming, and the eventual lightning and thunder in the nearby sky confirmed that I was racing the weather. I made it to the ranger station about a minute after it started to drizzle. Pi and Hiep showed up about a half hour after I did, looking like they had just taken a bath.
We're technically not supposed to sleep on the premises, and I'm not one to break rules. I had passed a campsite 3 miles prior, but the lack of water or shelter from the impending rain made it an unappealing stop when I'd passed it. The ranger helped us find accommodations out of the rain without having to backtrack to the campsite, and he even brought us some pop, which was above and beyond! It's nice to be sheltered from the rain and wind.
Tomorrow will be a long highway walk, but the reward is town. I know I was just in one, but this one has like... grocery stores and coffee shops and wifi and people. And a Subway partway through the highway walk, which will make a great breakfast!
Day 24
Forward progress: 16.0 miles
Total distance on trail: 406.7
Waking up in a dry spot was just divine. I didn't sleep great because Pi snores like a mf but I was just grateful to be dry and not have to pack up a wet tent. A lot of hikers I know are already in Grants because they got spooked by the rain and hitched ahead on the road. I get it, I hate being on a highway when it's raining as a driver, so being on a highway when it's raining as a hiker sucks extra.
The hiking wasn't so bad today, even though it was all on the highway. It was easy to break up into little goals. 9 miles into the hike was a gas station and Subway, which I obviously patronized. 5 miles later was a brewery, which I obviously patronized. And then 2 miles later, I was at my hostel. Easy. My feet are so blistered from all the pavement, though. I haven't had blisters from the trail until now. I tried popping one to make putting my shoes on less painful, but they're already calloused over and difficult to access underneath the hardened skin. Just gotta wait them out.
Being in Grants is emotional for me. Last year, when I thought I had hip flexor tendonitis and not a stress fracture, I skipped ahead to Grants with the intention of waiting out the injury and rejoining my friends when they came through. Every day, I was confused as to why it was feeling worse, not better. (The walking around town with a stress fracture would explain it.) I would cry every time my friends discussed the upcoming miles or did their resupply, knowing I wasn't physically able to join them, stretching as much as I could to make the tendonitis go away. I'm really happy I get to override the bad memories with better ones in town while I'm here, starting with the brewery (drinking to celebrate instead of wallow) and the hostel (watching tv to relax instead of it being the only thing I could do without being in pain).
A Bear, Daydreamer, Tenderfoot, and FOMO saved a bunk for me at Lava Flow Hostel. They'd texted me yesterday telling me to join them. Even though they're a day ahead and heading out tomorrow while I'm zeroing, I'm glad to have friends on trail looking out for me.
Day 15
Forward progress: 0.0 miles
Total distance on trail: 406.7
After the others left, it felt strange being at Lava Flow. Being in a hostel that is communal by design is weird when you're alone. There are at least 10 other hikers in Grants, but most stay at the hotel/motel area a few miles south of the town proper because you get there sooner, it's closer to the brewery, and it's across the street from a Walmart -- the holy grail of resupplies. I wasn't sure who all, if anyone, would come to Lava Flow. I like the hostel because it's cheaper, a few blocks from the road that the trail follows, and further along on the trail than the hotels/motels. I like knowing that tomorrow, when I leave the town, I can grab a chai latte from the coffee shop next door that gives one free drink to CDT hikers and be on my way.
At first, I felt sad being alone, and then I realized I hadn't been by myself in a town at all. Never have I shut a door and been blocked off from everyone else. I didn't do anything special with my solitude, but I did relish splaying out and not worrying about taking up space.
Eventually, Hiep showed up, as well as 3 new hikers I hadn't met yet. Mountain Goat is from Taiwan and is on the second leg of her triple crown, and if she finishes the full triple crown journey, she'll be the first woman from Taiwan to hold that honor. She does watercolor paintings on trail to commemorate her journey, and they are stunning. Rudy goes by not a name but a high pitched trill (but I'll probably just call him Rudy). He's from Montreal, and I hope the other French Canadians catch up so they can hang out. Derrick goes by the sound a werewolf makes, so again I'll probably just call him Derrick in writing because spelling out an animal sound is hard. (It's silly, but even though trail sounds are just one step away from trail names, I simply won't participate.) He lives in Tennessee and has also done the AT but not the PCT. Most people out here have done the PCT, and it's annoying to not get any of the references when they start reminiscing.
Hiep made Vietnamese summer rolls and a peanut sauce for everyone's dinner. Not only were they delicious, but the vegetable content was high, and we were all so happy. He also says they pair nice with chardonnay, and we were thrilled when he produced a few bottles from the refrigerator. I hate beer, but most people get cases of beer to share, so being able to drink wine was lovely. I don't usually like chardonnay, but he was right; they did pair well with the summer rolls. Mountain Goat went to sleep fairly early, which left us with 4 people, all of whom wanted to play a game, so I taught the others euchre. It was a simple evening but I loved it.
I still have to resupply and pick up a package, but those are tomorrow activities. The store holding the package was closed today, and there's a grocery store on the way out of town that's right on the trail, just a mile ahead. I plan to do only 16 miles out of town tomorrow, so chores can wait until morning.
Day 26
Forward progress: 16.2 miles
Total distance on trail: 422.9
Knowing that I didn't have to leave right away made choring very difficult. The store with my package was a little over a mile away, not in the direction I was going. I decided to go to the coffee shop, get my CDT hiker discounted (free) chai latte (they make their own chai in house and it is divine), and see if I could get someone to offer me a ride to and maybe even from the store. I was successful.
At the coffee shop, two 60+-year-old gentlemen were chatting, and when I asked the barista for the hiker discount, they turned their attention to asking me about the trail. I mentioned how kind and generous people in these small New Mexican towns have been toward hikers (which is true!) and let the conversation move to the chores I had to do before leaving. One of them said, "Well I have some free time, I can drive you there and back if you want!" Yes I did want. I think this is the one way in which being a woman on trail is more advantageous. Men take more pity on us and find themselves more desiring to save us from our troubles. I'll take it.
I left the hostel to return to trail around 9:00. I went to the grocery store for my resupply, and it was already looking like bad weather. A bunch of patrons noticed me packing my food canister outside and asked me about my trail experience. They all said I was so brave. I wonder if they tell the guys that. One told me I should carry a gun because I'm "young and pretty." One flat-out asked me why on earth people would want to walk that far. (Fair point, random lady.) After hemming and hawing, I finally left the canopy of the store around 10:45. The miles won't hike themselves.
A little into the road walk was a sign warning drivers against picking up hitchhikers. There's a prison we pass, so it's so people don't accidentally pick up escaped inmates, but it's a classic spot to take a photo pretending to request a hitch. Ironically, I was stopped next to the sign and asked if I wanted a ride to the trailhead. A bunch of CDT hikers were already in the bed of the truck, so it was a fair gesture, but it made me laugh getting offered a ride adjacent to a sign saying not to offer people rides.
I think I've been saying no to rides, even on paved roads that suck to walk, because I'm just so grateful to be doing this trail. Even the road walks aren't bothering me too much, just because I get to do them.
After getting to the trailhead, after 5 miles of highway walking, the trail became a trail again. I took my trekking poles out for the first time in many days. I don't use my poles on pavement because there's nothing for them to dig in to, so they don't help my traction, and I'd rather just keep my hands free. There were tons of cacti on the trail, and it made me happy to have actual scenery again.
I knew we were climbing in elevation pretty quickly because the cholla had hail pellets at their bases. It was a weird juxtaposition. I don't expect to see wintery precipitation next to desert plants. But it sure was cold! I got some rain, some snow, and mostly hail. Fortunately, the hail pellets were only about the size of Nerds candies, and I'd rather that than rain.
The last few miles were so annoying. The mud was insane!! I don't care about getting dirty, but I do care when the mud sucks your feet in, makes it hard to step forward, makes every step an extra effort to not slip back, and sticks so thoroughly to your shoes that it adds extra pounds to your feet. It was like hiking through peanut butter. At first, I tried scraping it off when I saw rocks, but I learned pretty quickly that it would eventually lose its moisture from repetitive pressing into the ground and tumble off in clumps, relieving my feet for a few seconds before the next batch of mud would latch on.
I camped with 6 others at a water tank -- the last certain water source for 34.7 miles. There are rumors of a water cache about halfway until then, but water caches go quickly, and I never want to rely on them, so I am planning tomorrow for the full carry. That means going up and over Mt. Taylor + 30 more miles before water. Unless the cache has water for me. I really hope it does.
We all were in our tents by 6:00. Someone read before leaving town that it's going to be 14° on top of Mt. Taylor tonight, so it will probably be about 20° at our elevation. It already feels in the 30s. Hoping for a good sleep tonight.
Day 27
Forward progress: 28.9 miles
Total distance on trail: 451.8
Ok, today has officially been my hardest, worst, least favorite day on trail so far, hands down. It started cold, remained cold, and ended cold. Different kinds of cold, though.
I woke up to frost on the inside of my tent from condensation from my breathing. I did sleep really well, which was surprising, given how cold it is outside.
The route I'm on takes you over Mt. Taylor, an 11,000-foot peak -- our first mountain. A lot of people I camped with decided to take a connector route around the mountain instead of over it, since it didn't look like we were going to get any good views, and a lot of people are afraid of the snow. I figured it was possible for the clouds to clear so that I could get a good view, and I have plenty of experience hiking in this level of snow, so I went over the mountain.
I was socked in by clouds for miles. It was pretty evident that I wouldn't get a good view from the summit as early as 2 miles out, but it was too late to do anything but go up and over. I was freezing, exhausted, and dehydrated; I was at the beginning of my long water carry, plus I really hate drinking water when I'm cold, especially when it's become mostly ice, so I wasn't drinking nearly enough.
Coming down the other side would have been pleasant -- fun, even -- if it hadn't been for so much exposure. In the trees, there was a wind block, but the trail often wound through large spaces where the trees didn't grow. I was too cold to stop, even to put another layer on. I saw Hiep after a few miles of the descent, and it was an incredible distraction to have conversation. He got up super early and actually had a view from the summit, that bastard.
I didn't stop to eat breakfast or sip sufficient water until I was warm enough to do so, 8.6 miles into the day.
The afternoon was the best part. Sometimes, there was even sun for a few minutes before it resumed hailing. It's hailed a ton on us today, but the pellets are still small enough that they don't hurt. Better than rain, but not ideal.
The water cache was at a dirt road junction, so I was able to chug water and replenish my losses without worrying about making it an additional 17 miles. So glad it was there; I could have made it, but I was very happy to have some water at lunch.
I had lunch with a guy called Bushwhack. He's from New Zealand, and he's already hiked the PCT. He's mostly been hiking with a couple called Prancer and Hungry Hungry Hippo, but those two are somewhere behind us. Even though we've overlapped a bunch, we haven't chatted much, so it was nice to have a conversation.
After lunch, I was by myself. The trail is a dirt road. Well, it would be a dirt road if not for excessive precipitation, so it is often a mud road. The miles went quickly enough, but I hate the sliding and the way it sticks to my shoes.
Around 5:00, I saw a few people setting up their tents. In retrospect, I should have just joined them, but it felt too early to stop. I was hoping to catch Rudy and Derrick, who I assumed were just a little ahead of me, but eventually I just had to stop for the night. The mud and rain were getting to me. (I wish I had done another 1.1 miles, though, just to hit 30 miles.)
Just as I was looking for a camp spot, I fell, so my whole rain suit is a muddy mess. My shoes are already disgusting. When I set up my tent, which is wet from the rain, I had a hard time keeping things dry. It's muggy in here, since everything I'm wearing is damp, but I'm trying to let my body heat dry them off, so the warm moisture is largely trapped in my tent.
So to summarize... I'm camping alone (which I hate), all my stuff is wet and/or muddy (which I loathe), and I'm sure that my tent will be frozen in the morning (which I despise). So... cool.
Day 28
Forward progress: 24.9
Total distance on trail: 476.7
It rained all night and into the morning. On the one hand, I'm glad my tent was not frozen. On the other hand, I hate packing up a wet tent, and I have to be careful with my quilt because wet down is compromised, and the trail was a muddy mess. I woke to the sound of coyotes howling in the distance. A rival pack must be nearby, because a few packs were howling up a storm for a while.
Right as I was getting ready to pack up, the rain began again. And hard. I decided I had until the end of a sudoku puzzle to begin packing up; that would take plenty of time before having to get out of my tent. I timed it damn near perfectly. By the time I had finished packing up my gear, it was down to drizzle. When I finished packing my tent, it was basically done raining.
Then began the peanut butter mud road walk again.
Evidently, I had passed Derrick and Rudy in the rain yesterday while my head was down. They caught me this morning and I was surprised.
It was a relief when we finally got back to an actual trail. Derrick went the half mile down to the spring to bring everyone some water to filter -- the end of that long water carry. It was raining and we were all rather miserable, so this kind deed did a lot to lift our spirits.
From there, we climbed. I didn't really know what we were climbing, but it was a fair amount of ascent. All I knew was we had an overlook at lunch, and that was really nice to have views.
The descent from there was amazing. I was annoyed that my camera was stowed in my pack because of the on and off rain! So many cool rock formations in the distance: mesas and buttes and pyramid-shaped rocks that sprung out of flat land.
I was pleasantly surprised by the afternoon and evening miles! We got to descend into the canyons, climb all over these rocks, and admire the best desert views we've had all trail. I found myself actively smiling, just happy to be able to witness and be a part of this scenery.
I had aimed for 30 miles -- there's a group that's set up at a road junction for a few weeks providing trail magic, and I wanted dinner and breakfast -- but when I saw people camped on top of the mesa at 25 miles into my day, I had to stop. Camping with a view is one of my favorite rarities on trail. The trail magic will be there in the morning.
Day 29
Forward progress: 24.4 miles
Total distance on trail: 501.1
Everyone woke up early with a one-track mind: get to trail magic as early as possible. Even I was hiking before 7:00. Usually I wake up between 6:15 and 6:30, but because everyone else was up and making noise, I was up earlier than normal. I slept terribly last night because it was super windy, but the prospect of a hot meal waiting ahead was enough to keep me in a good mood.
The trail magic was as wonderful as promised. They call themselves Camp Oasis. It's a group of hikers from Albuquerque that call themselves the Continental Divide Trail Angels and are on their third annual year of epic trail magic at this spot. Woody, the guy who concocted the whole idea, was there, along with his cousin, Kathy. They made us burritos with chili and cheese. They had coolers of pop. They had jugs of water. Trash receptacles. A spread of fruits. Camp chairs to sit in. A porta-potty. It was insane.
They said that usually there are volunteers there (which is crazy that they have volunteers) but because the last few days have been unusually rainy, the road to get in was too muddy to get in or out. Kathy said she usually only does set up and strike down, but she's been stuck there. They were actually apologetic that they didn't have their usual gourmet fare for us because people couldn't bring supplies in, and we were like... no don't apologize, this is beyond perfect? It could have just been apples and water and we would have been so grateful? And then they THANKED us for coming, as if we weren't so incredibly thankful that they had come for us?? They said they are all genuinely proud to provide for us on our journey, and I was just floored. New Mexico continues to surprise me with its generous people.
Leaving Camp Oasis was hard. I got there around 8:40 and left around 10:20, so I spent plenty of time there. Still had miles to make, so I had to leave eventually.
The hike all day has been GORGEOUS!!! So many intriguing rock formations that we've hiked in and through and over and around. If it weren't for the few hours of rain there, today would have been perfect. The rain was almost pleasant at first, but it quickly became a nuisance with how cold and clammy it made me. Not to mention more mud...
The rain also made me address a blister later than intended. I was going to take time to dress my heel, which would involve removing my shoe and sock and gaiter, but then the rain started, so I decided to do it when it stopped. It took many hours, many painful miles. When I finally took my sock off, I noticed two giant holes and a bunch of dried blood around them. I put my sock on backward (the heel on top... it was weird) over some leukotape, and the remaining miles were smooth enough.
I've been hiking today with Derrick, Rudy, and Mountain Goat. The four of us set up camp atop a mesa that concluded a brutal but beautiful climb: 300 feet over 0.3 miles. It was basically just straight up, but seeing out over the valley below was just incredible.
Easy day tomorrow into town. I'm ready to dry my stuff out.
Day 30
Forward progress: 12.0 miles
Total distance on trail: 513.1
How. Is. Everything. Always. So. Wet???? Seriously, my tent had water on every surface, my quilt was borderline waterlogged, and the bottom corner of my tent had a puddle. It never rained once last night, so this was purely condensation from my breath and drying clothes.
Fortunately, the hike in was super easy. Kind of mindless at times, but quick. Some of my hiking friends were interested in hitching the 4.5-mile highway walk that finished out the hiking, but when they saw that I was just walking it, they decided to forego the hitch. I never dreamed that I would 1) pass up an opportunity to hitchhike and 2) have enough influence to make others change their decision. Again, I think if it had been last year, I would have been happy to hitchhike, but after not being able to walk last year, I think I'm even grateful for the road walks, even if they suck.
I was hoping to zero tomorrow, but it seems like this next stretch is going to be slow-going, and I'm aiming to be in Chama, the final town of New Mexico (!!!), next weekend because that's when Mitch is visiting! While the section of trail I was just on was getting an unusual amount of rain, the mountains north of Cuba were getting snowed on. Some hikers found themselves in bad conditions and had to return to Cuba. One guy said he hung out in a trailhead privy for 30 hours to escape the nasty weather before turning around. It's mostly melted out by now, but it sounds like it will be a slog.
I felt like a new woman after showering and doing laundry. A highlight of my day was running a washcloth under hot water and pressing it to my (thoroughly scrubbed) face. It felt like a luxury spa, not a motel bathroom.
My high school friend, Elise, came to visit for a bit today! She lives nearby in Albuquerque. Last year, I stayed at her place for a long time, waiting to recover from hip flexor tendonitis. This year's visit was far more fun! And she brought me new socks, thank goodness! Even though I don't live nearby, when she eventually does the Pacific Crest Trail, I can't wait to give her as much support as she's given me on my hikes.
A large group of us congregated at a nearby Mexican restaurant for dinner. Sometimes, I'm sad that I don't have a tight-knit tramily. Tonight, with so many hikers that I've hiked with for varying periods of time, I had the best time reuniting with and catching up with everyone. Because I wasn't in one group, it felt like I was kind part of all of them, and more than anyone else there, I was able to bounce between them fluidly. Truly such a fun evening. Pi said it best: "A decade from now, that [picture of all of us at dinner] will be the only sort of pic I care about." And it's true. I've taken many photos on trail so far, some of which I'm extremely proud of, but it's the people that make the journey what it is.
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