Continental Divide Trail: Days 31 - 43
- Madelyn Dukart
- Jun 8
- 21 min read
Day 31
Forward progress: 17.6 miles
Total distance on trail: 530.7 miles
I don't know if "happy" is the right verbiage for the day, but happy 1 month trailiversary to me!
About half the hikers who were in town yesterday left. I was one of the later hikers to leave around 9:45. I didn't want to do big miles today, so getting an early start wouldn't have made sense.
In classic New Mexico kindness, someone left coolers of beverages on the road walk back to the trail. Seriously, people here may be the nicest in the country. Southwestern hospitality is one of a kind.
Most of the trail was BEAUTIFUL. We got some switchbacks, a lake, and real water sources to filter from!
The perk of an unusually snowy week in the mountains last week is that there's naturally-occurring water everywhere. The downside is that the snowmelt is not confined to the water sources. The last few miles of our day were an absolute slog through slushy snow and shin-high half-melted-half-icy water. At first, we did our best to pick around the water-laden trail, but once our shoes were wet enough, going through it was the fastest answer. We were going to get wet and cold anyway. It was a special kind of torture.
I was this close to crying for the first time out of anger at the trail. Every time I think I've got the hang of this trail, every time I've completed what I consider the worst trail conditions, it throws something new and worse at us. I'm hoping it doesn't stay that way until Canada.
Some of the river crossings had lovely trees to balance your way across. Two of them, unfortunately, did not. They were raging, not super high but really fast, and in the wrong spot with the right amount of depth and sweeping water, falling into freezing water was an option. A Bear and Daydreamer both slipped. A Bear was able to recover quickly and didn't get too wet, but Daydreamer was soaked up to her shoulders. I didn't fall, but I was close. I was saved by making my trekking poles really long so I didn't have to stoop down to make use of them, and I spent longer than the others finding a less deep spot to cross. It still got up to my waist, and fast enough to knock me over if I stepped poorly. Fortunately, it wasn't very wide. Anyway, our top priority after that was finding spots to camp and crawl into our quilts. My feet were just warm enough for feeling, but I wished they would just go numb. I can't imagine how miserable Daydreamer was. The tough part would be finding spots that were both flat and dry.
Almost as soon as we started looking, we saw campfire smoke on the hill above us. We all hiked as hard we could up to the site, not even looking for a trail up, hoping the campers would allow us to join. They were there for a family weekend, and we knew it was rude to crash, but we simply had to. I did my best to make small talk for about 30 seconds before asking if we could join their fire. They were incredibly gracious about it, even feigning they were too full for their last bratwurst so we could have it. The fire was a godsend. Without it, our plan was to set up our tents and huddle in our quilts and shiver and freeze half to death, especially Daydreamer, and count down the minutes until daylight. After so many weeks of high fire danger from how dry it's been, it's nice to know that it's so wet here that the fire danger is less than none.
I know I'll be angry about putting on ice cold socks and shoes tomorrow. The only objective tonight is to stay warm.
Day 32
Forward progress: 23.8 miles
Total distance on trail: 554.5 miles
I wish I had a thermometer to definitively know how cold it got last night, but we all predicted low 20s or high teens. I checked my shoes when I was awake around 2:00. Frozen solid, and it was several hours before the coldest part of the night. The exterior of my quilt had frost on it from the condensation from my warm breath. My tent was iced over. I knew we were all lying awake in our tents at 6:00 playing a game of chicken: who would be the first to exit their tent?
A Bear was brave enough to pack everything up and move his shoes, socks, quilt, and tent to the sun around 7:00. We all followed suit, and instead of putting on frozen shoes and socks, we just put on ice water shoes and socks. The sun was miraculous, though, and we didn't end up leaving camp until 8:00 so we could thaw our gear and ourselves. For how cold we all were this morning, I again can't imagine how much worse it would have been without the campfire last night.
One of the first things we all noticed was that the raging river we had crossed yesterday evening was now a tranquil stream. Since so much of the water re-froze overnight, it was fine in the morning, getting worse and worse throughout the day as more snow and ice melted.
Even with the occasional need to get our feet wet, the first half of the day was incredible. The snow was still hard-packed enough that we were able to crunch through it instead of falling through or wading through melt, most of the trail was *gasp* a trail and not a slushy slog, and the sun on our skin was nothing short of glorious.
A Bear, Daydreamer, and I took a long lunch to let out stuff air out. I love the sun at 7k feet.
After lunch, I made a massive error that affected my mood on trail. We crossed a stream, and I misinterpreted a map icon and thought I had another stream coming up before a longer carry. I should have grabbed water at the stream either way, but I didn't, resulting in a 10 mile stretch in the hottest part of the day with some big climbs on a half liter of water. Not my finest move. I basically just made myself zone out for a few hours to get by. I would have loved to wait for the next natural stream, but the cow tank just off trail was too appetizing to wait.
Getting to camp felt amazing. There are 6 of us at this stream, and we're all hurting a bit after that last steep downhill stretch. The campsite is really good, though, and I'm excited to sleep in above-freezing temperatures.
Day 33
Forward progress: 15.7 miles
Total distance on trail: 570.4 miles
Oh my god. Is that what a good night's sleep feels like??? I slept deeply and comfortably and soundly and didn't wake up to a wet and/or frosty tent or quilt.
I got a pretty early start this morning. My only goal for the day was to make it to Ghost Ranch, a museum and campground famous for being where Georgia O'Keeffe did many of her desert-themed paintings. Past that, I wasn't really sure. My leg has been bothering me a bit. I don't think it's the old stress fracture, even though the pain is in the same spot; it feels muscular, not boney. I can lift my leg without help from my hands and I can bear weight without collapsing. Still, the area is giving me pause. On top of that, the snow moving forward is looking sketchy. I hear it's melting quickly, but I am not keen on doing more slushy slogs. There don't seem to be many bail points, and Mitch is coming to Chama on Friday, so my options are basically hope that 90 miles go well over the next 4 days or take almost a full week off of hiking to wait out my leg and the snow. Ideally, I'd take 1-2 days off and then hike, but with Mitch's visit already booked, that's not an option. I know what I need to do, but I don't like it.
The hike to Ghost Ranch was mostly fine. Most of it was just a dirt road. After about 10 of the day's miles, the map indicated a junction from the road to a trail. There wasn't a trail, but rather a field of cacti and prickly shrubs. The road would not lead to where we were going, so through the thorns it was. When I got to another dirt road, I thought I was home free, but then the trail took us through the property of an abandoned museum, and I got super turned around. It didn't feel great hopping several barbed wire fences and crossing a suspension bridge that indicated on the other side that it was closed, but that was what the map seemed to mandate. At every turn, it felt like I was on the wrong path. I could feel my frustration rising, partially because I was stressed about the pain in my leg. Getting to Ghost Ranch was a relief.
First order of business was ice cream. Second order of business was also ice cream. Third order of business was catching up with other hikers who had made it. We all commiserated about the icy conditions we'd dealt with on the way, compared who'd gotten the most lost on the way here (it wasn't even me!), and schemed about where we'd all planned to wait out the snow. Most years, the San Juans aren't passable until early June, so we're early on the timeline anyway. This is an unusually low snow year as far as the snow base goes, which means that the 50 inches they just accumulated should go pretty quickly once they start to melt out, but we've seen how miserable melting snow can get. I definitely plan to wait for someone braver and/or stupider than I am to go through first and report back.
Seven of us are camped in the campground. We're cowboy camping to fit as many people as possible in two sites that are supposed to have a maximum of two tents each. The campground is fantastic, with picnic tables and bathrooms with running water and a water fountain. Pure luxury for us. The lady at the desk told us earlier that quiet hours began at 10:00 and we all laughed. It's 9:15, and we're all ready for bed.
Day 34
Forward progress: 0.0 miles
Total distance on trail: 570.4 miles
Even though none of us had anywhere to be fast, we were all awake by 6:00. There was a breakfast buffet in the dining hall, so we made a beeline for that as soon as it was open. I just had to be ready to leave to hike a mile down the road (not on trail, unfortunately, so it doesn't count for trail miles) for the free bus to Chama. A Bear and Daydreamer decided to join me so they could resupply in town before returning to Ghost Ranch.
I'm acquaintances with a guy on Instagram who owns the gear outfitter in Chama. His trail name is Tumbleweed and the outfitter is called Tumble On Outfitters. He and his roommate JJ (trail name: Janice Joplin) both hiked the CDT in 2021 and realized that Chama was severely lacking in hiker resources. This is the spot on trail that people send themselves winter gear before entering the San Juans in southern Colorado, but if you forgot something or didn't have something in your box, you'd have to find a way to Santa Fe or Albuquerque or Durango to get it. Tumbleweed and JJ decided to buy a plot of land by the post office, put an old shipping container on it, and stock it with ice axes and microspikes and basic hiker needs. JJ grew up sewing, and he has his own custom backpack company, so he's primed to sell them out of the container. Tumbleweed decided to learn to sew too, so he makes custom fleece sweatshirts and pants. They have singlehandedly built up Chama as a hiker-friendly town.
They also let hikers stay in their house for a small nightly donation, so I took them up on it because the hotels/motels in Chama are weirdly expensive. The downside of staying at the home of two male entrepreneurs is it very closely resembles a frat house in terms of cleanliness. They let me use their car to drive to the grocery store, so I got stuff to make dinner (with vegetables, which I doubt they eat much of) and a large variety of cleaning products, which I used liberally throughout the house, particularly in the kitchen and bathrooms. I genuinely wonder the last time they had time to clean.
My physical therapist says the pain I'm experiencing is likely just tendonitis that will last the whole trail but should stay manageable. It helps hearing that, but I'm not loving the pain.
Day 39
Forward progress: 14.7 miles
Total distance on trail: 585.1 miles
I had a reeeeally hard time getting back to trail today. On top of it being hard to leave Mitch and Lola after a lovely visit, it finally feels like I found myself a part of a solid group of friends in Chama, and now I'm 5 hiking days behind them. Doesn't sound like much, but that's an eternity. On top of that, I didn't know of anyone starting from Ghost Ranch today, and if anyone left today, it was probably this morning after breakfast. And people keep saying a weather system is rolling into the Chama area. I don't really believe a ton in forecasting in the mountains because they're so unpredictable, but it's freaking me out. I wish my hip could have waited a few days to hurt; I would LOVE to be at Chama and not Ghost Ranch. If the milestone of physically crossing into Colorado weren't so great, I would consider skipping this section and returning post-trail to get these miles in, but I want to feel the ecstasy of leaving New Mexico behind.
I don't have much to say about the hiking today. I got started around 2:00. The first 10 or so miles were coming out of Ghost Ranch and ascending a canyon. It was pretty, but my head was elsewhere. I'd actually planned to camp at 10 miles, but when I'm alone, I just want to keep going. Including a water break and some other breaks, it took me less than 5.5 hours to do almost 15 miles. I prefer taking more breaks and going a little slower, but when I'm alone and in my head, I just want to move.
When I got to my campsite, I had just enough time to set up my tent and eat dinner before it started hailing. Not big pieces, but hard. It lasted about 15 minutes. Fortunately, my tent is unscathed. It's colder than I was expecting at 9200 feet. I'm glad already to have a fleece quilt liner from Tumbleweed. He doesn't make or sell them commercially, but a few of us officered to test them if he sold them at a discount, and I'm already loving it.
Day 40
Forward progress: 25.2 miles
Total distance on trail: 610.3 miles
I slept like shit. My tent was fairly sheltered from the wind, but that didn't stop the wind from howling over the ridge. It was so loud, so violent, and so constant. I just couldn't sleep through it. And it lasted the whole night.
When I exited my tent, the fog was so thick, it felt like my eyes were totally unfocused. My bear canister froze shut overnight (so far, I've only left it locked and outside when I've been camping alone... I know that's not best practice, but it sure has made things easier), so I couldn't get my breakfast or snacks for the day. My hands froze solid stuffing my frosty tent into the stuff sack.
I never took my fleece sweatshirt off today, only added/removed outer layers. Started cold, ended cold. Wore every single layer I have with me at some point today, including the pants Mitch brought me in Chama and my full rain suit. I didn't take almost any pictures today because my hands were always too cold.
Today's the kind of day that makes me want to go home. And I have to remind myself that this is what I fought so hard for this past year. I wanted this. Even shit days like this one.
The soundtrack of today was howling wind and creaking trees. There's something so deeply unsettling about being surrounded by trees that are only being held up because another tree wouldn't let it fall all the way down. The sound they make rubbing together in the wind does not inspire confidence. The wind itself was a nightmare today. For over an hour straight, it was blasting the left side of my body. I thought my ear was going to fall off from the cold. It wouldn't have been bad if it were warm outside, but it was definitely in the 40s at best.
Most of my frustration today was with a series of blowdown reroutes that added mileage. (Blowdowns are downed trees. They may impede the trail, causing hikers to find their best way over, under, or around them.) I like being able to predict when I'll get to certain spots based on the distance and elevation profile, and I couldn't because the reroutes aren't official parts of the trail, so their distance isn't measured and the elevation profile doesn't exist. It made me so mad to see short trail miles and a longer actual path!
I spent most of today hiking around a guy called Huck, who I last saw in Cuba. He's one of the rare people that genuinely enjoys every ounce of a thru-hike. He finds whimsy in dull moments, he finds positives when there's nothing positive, and he'd rather never spend another day in town. Couldn't be me, but I admire him so much. It raised my spirits considerably to be around another human. I can't even imagine my headspace today if I were still alone. At lunch, we joined a guy called Splash, who has never done another thru-hike but is also consistently at least a mile per hour faster than I am.
The best part of today may have been the vault toilet at our lunch spot. We all may or may not have chosen that spot because of toilet access. I was in a really bad headspace rolling into lunch, largely because I hadn't eaten all day. Once I had enlisted the guys to help unscrew the sopping wet, still stuck lid, I was able to ingest some calories, and I was much better off.
Actually, the best part of today is right now, being fully cocooned by my quilt, liner, and hood. After getting hailed on, snowed on, and howled on by the wind, all for hours each (and let me tell ya, the ferocious wind with no precipitation was the worst offender), I'm so glad to have access to warmth. I need this.
We're camped next to a river, which is great for water access. The campsite itself is so good, but I'm dreading the river crossing that will kick off my day tomorrow. I'm shivering just thinking about it.
Day 41
Forward progress: 23.7 miles
Total distance on trail: 634.0 miles
I think my favorite thing about a bad day on trail is the next day is almost always better. Today wasn't like... the very best day on trail, but it was infinitely better than yesterday!
The initial river crossing did suck. I was the first one out of camp, and I'd been putting it off for as long as I could before I just had to suck it up and go. My tent had frost on it so the air was definitely chilly, and the prospect of getting any part of my body wet was so unappealing. The rocks on the bottom were super slippery, so each step had to be precise and balanced. It was probably only 10 feet shore to shore, but it took me well over a minute through quad-high water to get to the other side. Huck told me later he thought I was so brave for getting it out of the way so early and so quickly, and I was like... yeah! I am brave for that!
I have never been so grateful for an uphill in my life. My feet and legs warmed up almost immediately. It was actually my hands that were the most painfully cold for the first mile or so. At least my lower half was expending energy, but even with gloves on, my hands had no way to warm up so quickly. Shout out to poor circulation to the extremities! Fortunately, the sun was pretty immediately shining where I was hiking, and it stayed sunny all day. No hail today! I even took my sweatshirt off this afternoon!
The first 11 miles were honestly a breeze. Even with as much uphill as there was, I made pretty good time. I'd made arrangements for a woman called Stitch to meet me at a campground -- she bailed to Chama from there due to foot problems, and we met at Tumbleweed and JJ's -- around noon. I was actually so on the money for timing, and I would have made it exactly if not for the trail magic a half mile before the campground! I was so grateful that Jared had Yerba Mate; he'd originally offered me a beer, and I would have definitely forced down the Coors Light because declining trail magic is slapping karma in the face, but the tea was so much more what I was after. Jared lives in Taos and says he comes by here on his days off to camp and do a little trail magic, which is just a lovely way to be.
JJ was a little late to dropping Stitch off anyway, which was fine, especially because me, Huck, and Splash were taking full advantage of the sun and wind to dry out our tents and socks while we ate lunch. It was a really good break in the day. I also could tell just how drastically better of a mood I was in; if I'd seen JJ at that time yesterday, I would have hopped in his car and gone back to Chama.
The remaining miles of the day were largely uneventful, but quite pleasant. There were plenty of streams and creeks from snow melt, and there were some marshy patches, but our feet hardly got wet, and when they did, it was sunny enough to dry them out quickly enough. I wish I'd been able to get a picture of it, but Stitch and I saw three pronghorns run by pretty close to us, and man are they majestic. Someone told her that they're the fastest land animal in North America, and I don't have service to fact check that, but I do believe it after seeing them today.
Definitely the biggest downside of today is I think I may have a shin splint in my left leg. My upper ankle is really aching, and I wrapped it and took some ibuprofen, and that did help a little, but it definitely hurts. Just have to make it through 2 more days, then I can rest it.
These next 2 days will be lower in mileage. We're doing almost 20 miles tomorrow, and the elevation map looks very chill. Might even like... sleep in? I naturally have been waking up around 5:30 and starting the packing up process between 6 and 6:30, but I may wait until 7? The next day looks exhausting, though, and that's where all the snow and blowdowns are. Everyone says the last 10 miles to the highway are the hardest, and the last 3 are the worst, so we want to be in a good position to hammer them out and dedicate all our energy to them. May try to get up early and get the snow while it's crunchy and not slushy, but I'm not sure how much willpower I have to be cold before daylight. Either way, I'm really looking forward to being in Colorado soon!!
Day 42
Forward progress: 19.1 miles
Total distance on trail: 653.1 miles
Godddd why can't every day be 19 cruisy miles with good weather and nice break spots? Today was as good a day as the other day was bad. Favorite day on trail so far.
I woke up around 5:30, which is fairly normal, but didn't start packing up until the sun hit my tent around 6:30. We're camped close to a river, so the condensation was pretty thick, and I knew the sun would thaw the frost on my tent and cause water to seep in, so I wanted to be packed up before it got too wet around the edges. Everyone was taking it slow this morning, especially since the sun felt so good on our faces and cold hands. I spent several minutes standing toward the sun with my eyes closed, just appreciative of the warmth. I was the first one to hike out around 7:30.
The hike out of the river valley was stunning in the golden morning light. I ascended the ridge pretty quickly, and then the next several miles were just horizontal along the ridge. I was genuinely just smiling because it was so beautiful and pleasant and warm in the sun. Watching the streams meandering below me made me feel such peace. I love how all running waters carve the same curves.
The first 6 miles got us to a campground with privies and picnic tables. A few hikers had already yogied some beer from some campers for tomorrow's border crossing, and they kindly gave us a few as well. Annoying to carry glass bottles, but it will be worth it for the celebration.
The privy at the lower campground is somber for CDT hikers. In November of 2015, a hiker called Otter got caught in an unexpected snowstorm while he was here, and he made the privy his home. The storm raged, he didn't have a way to communicate to the outside world that he needed help, and he didn't have enough food. He died a slow, lonely death in the privy. Before passing, he carved "Dead CDT hiker inside" on the door. 10 years later, the carving is pretty faded, but if you know to look for it, it's there. Everyone took a moment of reflective silence. It's easy for people at home in their comfy lives to criticize him for being out in bad weather or not having a satellite communicator, but out here, we know we are often one bad storm and one bad mistake away from a bad situation.
The full story is worth a read if you can stomach it.
Splash saw an otter in the campground lake while he was collecting water. I almost cried when he told us about it. Just felt like this newbie thru-hiker was being looked after by the late veteran hiker.
The next 6 miles were a little less scenic and a little fuller of snow patches and blowdowns, but they were quick and ended at a gorgeous vista of the mountains of New Mexico. I usually break for lunch for maximum 45 minutes, but I spent over 2 hours there, simply because I had the time and was enjoying letting the sun do its work on me and my wet gear.
We got to camp just after 5:00, which is crazy early. We didn't want to do more miles because we don't want to climb to higher (read: colder) elevations. We're still set up pretty well for 10 miles tomorrow. We're all aiming to be ready to start hiking by 6:00 so we can have some hard-packed crusty snow that can support our weight instead of sun-melted slush that we sink into. On normal trail, I would budget 3-4 hours; I'm guessing with the snow on the north-facing mountains, especially with all the blowdowns, especially on the descent, it will take us 6-7.
Day 43
Forward progress: 9.5 miles
Total distance on trail: 662.6 miles
HA it took 5.5! But still. Pretty nuts for 9.5 miles when we're used to going 3 or so miles per hour.
We thought we were being so clever getting up early and hiking out by 6:00. For the first time in many days, my tent didn't frost over. It was still cold, but not unbearable. But as soon as the sun came up, it was hot. We were going through tons of snow, and temperature-wise, I was content with shorts. But the snow was immediately made soft and mushy. Postholing was inevitable, and often.
We'd heard that the last few miles to the border were really hard and sketchy. It wasn't sketchy because of any fall risk or concerns of falling off a mountain, but the snow was piled high over a mass of blowdowns, so you never knew what you'd fall through the snow onto. Would it just be snow? Would you step on a tree? Would you hit the front end of a branch and take a chunk out of your shin? Who's to say. We were definitely down to 1-1.5 mph during those miles.
The border was a massive celebration. I got there with Stitch, Splash, and Huck, and as soon as the sign came into eyesight, we were whooping and hollering like crazy. One state down!! On the AT, border crossings were so frequent, I felt like they often lacked the mental boost they were supposed to give, but with upwards of 500 miles between each state here, I have a feeling they'll be pretty exciting each time.
Stitch and I had our beers ready to go, and I don't really like beer, but either I actually like Dos Equis or border crossings make Dos Equis taste really good.
The remaining 3 miles had us stressed out. We'd heard from people who'd come through a few days ago that they were the hardest part, and if the previous miles had taken so long, these were bound to take us longer. Well, we must have gotten really lucky with conditions, because we were through them in barely over an hour. We continued our celebratory mood at Cumbres Pass.
We are officially into Colorado and it feels so good!!!
We met up with a few other hikers at the pass and we got a shuttle into Chama pretty quickly. I had a bunch of my winter stuff stashed at Tumbleweed's in a closet in JJ's workshop because Mitch had brought it to Chama and I didn't need it this past stretch. This next stretch, I will have my ice axe, microspikes, and pants.
Tons of hikers are in town right now. We're all anxious about this upcoming stretch. We hear the snow is hard to navigate through. It's 67 miles between Cumbres Pass and Wolf Creek Pass, the next town. Normally, I would budget 3 days of food for that. We're all taking 5-6.
Ready or not, Colorado, here we come!
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