Segment 26

Bolam Pass Road to Hotel Draw Road



Gold-kissed grasses and dark pines frame blue mountains beyond.


The lake, including the small out-flowing stream at mile 0.1. Both were weirdly red.


A view down the long valley leading up to Blackhawk pass.





The fantastic scenery continues in this segment. Nipped by the frost, the grasses were just beginning to yellow, turning entire hillsides into green-gold foregrounds framing misty-blue mountains beyond. The large lake at the start of this segment is not particularly picturesque, but the trail gets better. Perhaps the best of all is the long valley leading up to Blackhawk pass, where there were late-blooming columbines, lots of edible mountain bluebell, and distant elk.

In several of the small meadows around mile 10.0, look for masses of orange, apricot-scented mushrooms. Make sure you identify them properly *before even trying* to eat any, but chanterelles were very common throughout the latter portion of the trail, along with tiny wild strawberries.



Mountain bluebells -- delicious. They taste like green beans, with a texture like spinach. Thanks, Rebecca!


Straight creek -- last water for a while. You can't miss it!





Suggested updates to databook:

0.0
The lake's water was a strange rusty-red. I did not taste it.

0.6
There was water aplenty at this and many other streamlets and tiny, beautiful lakes.

4.1
The CT goes straight/left; the right-hand trail is now closed for rehabilitation, so there's even less danger of getting lost.

6.2-6.6
The 'spring' at 6.6 was a pair of burbling creeks when I passed. There are many lovely flat places to camp along the climb out of this valley, but the established spots are rather close to the trail. Setting up a new camp may prove more pleasant. Just over the pass, however, is a fantastic established camp at mile 7.5

7.5
Best firepit ever. Plenty of flat rocks on which to dry some mushroom jerky, if you'd like. There's wood and nearby water.

8.4
It's impossible to miss this creek -- there's even a wooden sign marking it (see pic above.) There were a few very small streamlets in the couple miles past this point, but I hiked during an extraordinarily wet year. Camping near this part of the creek would be difficult.

10.0
At last you join an old road (look for the trailmagic left by Llama Mama's,) and start to descend. The character of the trail rapidly changes, becoming more traveled. When you reach a parking lot, skirt it along the right-hand side.


The elevation profile is correct for this segment.
----> Onward, to Segment 27!

Segment 25

Molas Pass to Botham Pass Road



Me, on a grassy slope near mile 2.5.


The sky-blue stream at mile 17.


One of several grassy, cliff-edged meadows near mile 7.


Looking back on Cascade creek, at mile 14.7.


A stream crosses the slickrock trail at mile 5.3. (Looking back towards Denver side.)


I didn't learn to eat mushrooms until this segment, when no less than two sets of travelers pointed out tasty varieties. I noticed something interesting, once I started picking edible mushrooms. I began paying much more attention to the trail -- to its moods, its microclimes. It was no longer something to pass as quickly as possible on the way to the next view, the next resting spot or landmark, but rather something to examine and to savor. Eating off the trail changed my relationship with it -- something that people who fish more successfully than I have no doubt discovered long ago.

Also, that faint edge of fear -- will this kill me if I eat it? let's see! -- is pretty entertaining, too.

The terrain here is some of the most fantastically varied and lush that you'll see. There's a great deal of wildlife, too. I camped in a beautiful, cliff-edged headwater canyon at mile 7.5. As usual, that night I woke up, in need of the restroom. I grabbed my light, crawled out of the tent, and discovered two glowing eyes peering back, not ten feet away. I retreated, post haste, tried to keep quiet. What a fool I'd been, leaving food in my tent! Was the creature after my oriental-flavored Ramen? I'd defend those noodles with my life! For the rest of that long night, the fearsome beast stalked around my tent, its footfalls audible. It even licked the rainfly a couple of times. All the while, I grew increasingly desperate. Finally, near dawn and on the point of bursting, I grabbed a hiking pole (a poor weapon, but I carried nothing else with which to fend off wild bestial monsters) and bolted from the tent... only to find a young and rather bemused mule deer doe, which watched me for a time, then sauntered away.

The trek up to Rolling Mountain passes through high alpine fields, but shortly thereafter you'll find near-rainforest conditions, with thick mats of moss on the ground, great old trees, and eerie blue streams. If you have extra food, it's worth taking your time in this area for photography, reading, or just napping in the sun.

Watch out for those mule deer, though. They'll be coming for your soup.





Two tiny lakes, visible from the trail at mile 5.0.


Small purple orchid-like blooms.


Small purple orchids crowded this segment.


At long last, Rolling Mountain, from mile 10.8.


Pair of peaks, visible from approx mile 15, which resemble the CT logo. ;)


Someone got a little enthusiastic with those trail markers!





Suggested corrections to the databook:

0.2
This segment was astoundingly rich in mushrooms, edible and otherwise, both of great variety. It also hosted some of the most lush flora and ecological zones of the trail. It's well-worth lingering in many places.

1.5 - 4.0
The guide- and databook make these little roads sound complicated; they're not. intersections are clearly marked, and it's obvious which way the trail heads, anyway, as it will be the most well-worn path. Still, keep aware of your surroundings. I found numerous springs and streams in this area, the day after rain.

5.3
This stream does, in fact, flow over slickrock at the edge of a cliff. So be careful. There's a picture above, though it doesn't show the main part of that cliff.

10.2
The engineer trail sign was damaged, but you can still see that engineer trail heads left/straight. The now-unlabeled trail, to the right, is the CT. You'll see more markers just a little further along.

10.5
There are several very pretty lakes here... and also, a old shovel blade. Just in case you need to dig a hole, I guess.

12.0
The valleys west of Rolling mountain feel primal, very thick and very green. High water made some of the stream crossings a little dicey -- plan to get wet.

14.7
Not here, though. The bridge is a very good one -- though I wouldn't lean against any handrails. There's camping uphill, just before the bridge. After the crossing, make sure to look back occasionally, for the view.

15-16
Though there was evidence of past trail washouts, there was no water running here when I passed. The trail has been methodically and carefully built to withstand flooding.

17.0
The 'camping' promised here in the databook was not so great. The most logical field in which to put a tent was soggy, the next best place was a sliver along the trail at the edge of a cliff. In dry years, the camping might be fine, but I ended up moving along to 17.3, where there were (informal) flat spots and a very tiny seasonal stream. The water here, by the way, was an eerie sky-blue hue. Tasted good, though.

20.1
Turn *left* on a very large dirt road. There were deep ruts and lots of puddles and muddy bits, so the going isn't so easy as you might imagine. Follow the road longer than you think you should, until you find a trail breaking away to your left. (The marker was stolen, but it's the first large, clear trail you come to.) This trail heads slightly uphill, into some trees with campsites, then downhill to the lake.


The elevation profile for this segment is essentially correct. The grades are not (usually) quite so bad as they look, though -- this is just a somewhat long segment.
----> Onward, to Segment 26!

Segment 24

Stony Pass to Molas Pass



The view down into Elk Creek drainage; the mining ruins of beartown would be 180 degrees behind this scene, and over a hill. Fabulous artwork created by me.





Aside from the tremendously beautiful scenery, the most salient point to be made about this segment is that there is no longer any resupply possible at the Molas Lake Campground. That was unfortunate, since my pack by that point contained a single packet of salmon and some cracker dust -- thank heavens there were plenty of raspberries along the trail, or I'd have been in trouble.

As to the camp store closure, the old guy who runs the campground told me that "too many durn' kids were stealin' stuff," while fixing me with a suspicious eye, as if afraid that the mere proximity of a dirty hiker would cause his supplies to mysteriously vanish. He waved me towards the road with disinterest, told me I'd get a hitch into town "right quick."

In fact, it took a while. Not having planned to hitch that day, I was wearing all black (bad), and was more disheveled and stinky than normal (also bad), and was hitching from the wrong trailhead (very bad.) Which brings to mind a few more rules of hitching, gleaned from experience and other hikers' tips. For your entertainment, I hereby present: HOW TO HITCHHIKE.


-- Hitch from the trailhead. Locals know that a long trail passes their town, and they also know from where hikers generally hitch. If you are not at that spot, you might be a hobo or worse. If possible, stand where there's room to pull over, and also where you are visible from a long ways away.

-- Keep group size in mind. Pairs tend to be most successful, especially if one or both are women. Groups of four or more should split up.

-- Have a dog. People I've talked to say this is a big plus when hitching.

-- Clean yourself up. Even a quick hair combing, or running a wet rag over your muddy face, or a beard trim by a buddy, will help.

-- Dress as nicely and as innocently as you can. That shirt on which you've spilled fruit punch, so that it looks like you've been stabbed? No. Battered black Metalica T-shirt? No. Nice white thermal North Face shirt and clean-ish black nylon hiking pants? Yep, that'll do.

-- Take your pack off. Unless it is a very ratty pack, lean it against your legs or a nearby rock so that it faces oncoming traffic. You want passerbys to see that it is a fairly nice piece of hiker gear, rather than a transient's knapsack. Leaving your pack on makes it look like you're maybe going somewhere, and like you aren't all that tired anyway (and therefore not in dire need of a ride.)

-- Collapse your sharp and pointy trekking poles and stick them in your pack, so they are as unnoticeable as possible. Don't be waving those suckers around. (If nothing else, their size makes them appear likely to damage car upholstery.)

-- Take off your sunglasses and hat and put them in your pack. Drivers need to see your face.

-- Stay standing, or if vehicles are infrequent, stand when you spot one.

-- Take a map or guidebook out of your pack and pretend to read it, while keeping one eye on the road. As a vehicle approaches, look up hopefully, try to make eye contact with the driver, and wave a thumb. Such acting sounds a little silly, but works fantastically well. There's no better way to convey the truth: that you are a harmless hiker, maybe a little lost, and in need of assistance.

-- Keep all other belongings inside your pack. If they're spread out, it might take a while for you to gather everything and get in the car -- someone thinking of stopping won't want to wait.

-- Remember: if something doesn't feel right about the situation, you can always claim to have forgotten something a mile back, and then turn around and walk away.


By the way -- the Siverton Hostel, which is definitely highly recommended, will give you a ride back to the trail for a couple bucks. Most hotels catering to hikers will do this for you; call ahead and ask. Hitching back up to the trail is almost always harder than getting to town.


This is actually Little Molas Lake, in the beginning of the next segment. I stuck it here because my camera was dead for this segment.





Suggested updates to the databook:

0.0
Stony pass is just that -- tremendously, beautifully rocky. Big ridges rose like dragon spines, and it was windy here. There are mining ruins along the trail.

0.5
The evening after rain, we found plenty of streamlets and small ponds in this area. There are a couple flat benches to your left, facing over the road, which make for good camping. While doing just that, we witnessed a tremendous rockfall which possibly fell across the trail at the end of the last segment. Shortly, the trail heads right, up and away from the road, and wanders over open and rolling tundra.

1.8
Out here, old trails last a long time, and can form a confusing network when seen from afar. Keep an eye open for signposts, and don't cut downhill to a trail you can see below -- it might not be the CT.

3.3
At this point, you've finished 80% of the trail. Yay!

5.5
There's a Peruvian cowboy around here who may give you muddled directions in a mix of gestures and Spanish. (If you have any extra food, he'd appreciate it.) The next mile may be frustrating, because you can *see* Elk creek drainage off to your right; it seems like you should head straight there. But in fact, you should circle left, around some hills.

6.4
Then, at a sign upon which someone has helpfully etched "worst sign ever", you head right, up those very same hills, to the mouth of the drainage. From there, you can see Beartown (old mining ruins) to the east, and the lovely Elk Creek to the west. (See illustration below.)

7.4
The trail crosses Elk Creek many times. But interspersed, there are also several very, very steep portions of the route which lead over wet bare rock. Hope your water shoes have great traction. You may want to walk backwards, for a better grip.

7.5-9
The trail is very exposed for much of this section -- it clings to a steep slope with a chasm to your left. If you have trouble with vertigo, stop and eat something salty... and keep your eyes only on the trail when you proceed.

9.6
This stream crossing either requires an ankle-deep ford... or you can try the scary and wobbly log bridge.

10.5-11.6
There are several lovely meadows in this area, any of which would make great campsites. Elk Creek is glacier-blue with minerals at these elevations, but tastes fine.

12.5
The trail descends to follow roughly along the river's course. There aren't many flat spots for camping for the next two miles -- but there are some incredible views.

14.0
One last climb up into the hills and away from the water, and you'll come in rapid succession to a nice (dry) campsite to your left, the trail register, and a fork in the trail (right/straight for CT.)

15.1
Cross the RR tracks, head right along them until a trail opens up to your left. Many fine campsites for the next 0.3 miles, near the RR tracks.

15.4
There's a pretty little log bridge, now.

17.6
After a long climb, follow the signposted trail through a very large meadow (puffball mushrooms are common here) and up a hillside. There are several small intersecting horse trails, none of which are mentioned in either book, but all of which are signposted and small. Stay on the main trail.

18.4
At this point, a large side trail heads right. Ignore it, and continue straight/left. The sign here may be broken, missing, or hard to read, but you'll know the intersection because the side trail is nearly as well-traveled as the CT.

18.7
Another large side trail heads right, to the Molas Lake Campground. *THERE IS NO LONGER ANY RESUPPLY HERE.* The campground store is closed. The grumpy man who runs the campground will (sometimes) hold your package, but it may be hard to find him to retrieve your package, and he will not sell you anything. It's best to continue to the end of the segment, instead, and hitch into town from there if you need to.


The elevation profile for this segment in the databook is not correct. The line drawing shows the old elevation profile, from before the trail re-route. The enumerated elevation numbers, however, are correct, so you can either copy the profile from the guidebook, or draw in a new one based on the numbers. This segment is also not as long as indicated in the databook elevation profile, so you have to move the line back about three miles.

----> Onward, to segment 25!

Segment 23

Carson Saddle to Stony Pass



The rocky hillsides just past Cataract Lake. The terrain grows increasingly mineralized and blooms with strange colors and sparkly sections. It's a geologist's wonderland out there.





I think I've mentioned it before, but it bears repeating: there's not much to cook on, up here. Massed willow bushes, such as the ones around the beautiful Cataract Lake, do a good job of cutting the worst of the wind, but their branches do not burn well at all, and stink when set alight. In fact, the only place in this segment where you can reliably cook over a fire is early on, around mile 1 - 2, where there are clusters of small, wind-twisted pines just downhill, to the left of the trail.

I stopped there to cook some lunch -- General Tsao's Chicken from Backpacker's Pantry. It was meant to be dinner the night before, but it hadn't actually occurred to me that starting campfires might be a tad difficult at 13,000 feet, in large part because there is nothing up there to burn. But there was just enough deadfall around mile 1 to start a tiny little fire. Now, I knew from sad, sad experience that Backpacker's Pantry meals (or at least, the two varieties that I tried) will not cook properly above 11,000 feet or so. If you pour boiling water in the package and then seal it up, as directed by the instructions, you'll be left with a cold meal and crunchy rice in a mere 45 minutes. So, thinking myself very clever, I simmered some water and then poured in the powdery, food-like substance.

General Tsao's Chicken gelled in the bottom of that pot like a layer of mud, looking sullen. I stirred. I covered. I steamed and simmered and even attempted to boil that General Tsao's Chicken with the mere heat of my cursing. (Calling it 'chicken' by the way, is a stretch. The meat-like chunks are really just soya pieces, similar to but less tasty and less numerous than the soya pieces we used to buy in Malawi for fifty cents.) Eventually, I gave up and just ate it. The rice wasn't crunchy, but the carrot pieces still were -- and interestingly, they emerged a day or two later looking *precisely* as they had when going in. Who knew that dried carrots were indestructable at altitude by the human digestive system? I'm going to try dried corn, next, just to see if its consumption produces the same degree of flatulant jet-propulsion. Really helps with those climbs, yanno.

It was shortly after consuming this 'meal' that I limped down to Cataract Lake, one of the small alpine lakes which are the highlights of this segment. I could tell from far above that someone had already set up camp, for there was a tent, but no sign of occupancy. I circled around to the other side of the lake, and started to set up my own camp. It was then I discovered that Cataract Lake appears to be filled with the spawn of Cthulhu.

I'm not sure what else they might be. Strange little half-translucent creatures, some as long as my pinkie finger and about that wide, with little sweeping mouthparts; they definitely appear to have come from the remoter gulfs of cosmic space. The water I scooped up also contained a selection of twisting red worms, and some kind of fast-moving waterflea. It took a couple tries to get water that wasn't visibly inhabited, and I dropped in some iodine just to make sure.

Eventually, I noticed movement in the other camp, and went to say hi, and also to warn the other hiker that, when the apocalypse comes, it would probably rise from this very lake, so it might be prudent to go around armed. The other hiker paused noticeably when I called out, then walked down to meet me. "Oh good!" she said, smiling. "It kind of looked like you might be a gimpy old mafia don in a boiler hat and a trench coat. From a distance, you know." That is, in point of fact, exactly what I looked like, limping down the hillside dressed all in black, smothered in raingear, wearing a mashed and misshapen hat, and with my belly full of fermenting carrot bits. "But boy, it's nice to meet another solo female hiker on the tra..."

"You realize that lake is filled with the spawn of Cthulhu? Millions of them! Right there in that lake!" I told her, waving a sharpened trekking pole in one hand and my pocketknife in the other, in vigorous illustration.

There was a long, long silence. Rebecca eyed me doubtfully. "Maybe you should move your camp to where I can keep an eye on you," she ventured.

There's probably strength in numbers, I figured, in case a giant, squid-like, Lovecraft-ian Great Old One decided to rise in the middle of the night. Cthulhu definitely wasn't going to be pleased about that iodine I'd used on its demon star-spawn, after all. "Okay!" I said happily, and went to get my tent.

The next morning (apocalypse evidently averted), Rebecca decided to walk the following portion of the trail with me, possibly to keep me either from frightening other hikers, or from wandering off raving into the trackless wilderness. When not rescuing deranged trekkers, Rebecca mountainbikes avidly and produces really awesome artwork. She does shows at the Durango Arts Center, and also sells some ceramics and cyanotypes here. Her gallery is well-worth checking out, too!






The landscape is unreal through the latter half of this segment. Unfortunately, my camera batteries at last gave up the ghost.





Suggested updates to the databook:

0.0
Interesting old mining ruins abound, off to your left.

0.1
The trail follows along a nest of ATV roads for the next half mile. There are several turns and junctures, unmentioned in the books, where new ATV trails have been added -- keep a close and careful eye out for trail markers.

1.2
There were five or so small streams and seeps here -- the first few were trickles, but one near the middle was running splendidly.

1.6, 2.4
Several days after a heavy rain, there was water here, too -- and accompanying mudpits.

2.7-3.7
The climb up to this pass is lovely. There are some talus slopes, upon which you should watch your step. There's an amusing rock formation to your left, along the canyon rim.

4.5
The guidebook claims this is Cataract lake. It is not. There is no water here.

5.7
*This* is Cataract Lake! For the best campsite on the shore, head right 200ft on an intersecting trail. The CT goes left, around the boggy end of the lake. You'll probably want to treat this water if you drink it.

6.5
There was a lovely little stream running down this gully.

~7.5
The 'muddy field' mentioned in the guidebook was dry and unremarkable. Or at least, I think it was. Hard to say what field the book was talking about.

7.8
The trail tread is now quite clear. The cairns help a bit in finding your way over slopes, but they're not necessary; you'd have to work pretty hard to get lost. There were several trickling flows of water through the next few miles, as well, but some of them taste mineral-y and strange.

9.9
You may spot a signpost to Cuba Gulch. The water flowing across the trail is about a mile further along, shortly before the route becomes steep and climbs in switchbacks.

11.6
Top of the world. There was water up here too, in a pond 0.1m to the right of the trail.

13.5
Two lovely little ponds nested here. They're very exposed, however -- no place to be during a storm. And if you drink this water, you might want to treat it.

14.2
Water collects in this basin and forms a substantial stream a little further down. I'm told that this is the headwater of the Rio Grande. The afternoon after rain, there was a great deal of crisp, clear water here.


The elevation profile for this segment is not correct in the databook. From mile 5 on, it shows the *old* route's elevation and length -- a simple misprint, but a potentially very confusing one. The enumerated (rather than line-indicated) elevation numbers are roughly correct; you can either use them to draw a more correct line, or look in your guidebook and copy that profile into your databook.

----> Onward, to Segment 24!

Segment 22

Spring Creek Pass to Carson Saddle.



This is the map of mile 2.6, including where to find the water.


Ruby Creek Cirque. The ponds are just behind the little cluster of trees, towards the lower-right. This looked like it might be an acceptable place to camp, but don't head down there just for water, unless it's been a dry year -- there should be water in ponds nearer the trail, up above.


The red mountain, beautifully visible from mile 6.5... along with Jack, hiking dog.






Around mile 2.6, I met Pat and her husband, and their dog, Jack. That proved to be fortunate indeed, for I might not have found the water here, otherwise -- not with time left to set up camp before the rain, at least! There's map below with the location.

The three of them were downright extraordinary. Pat and her husband were around late retirement age; their dog was a shelter rescue. They'd fitted him with a pack. Jack carried his own food and water, plus a little extra water for them, and seemed pretty happy about the situation -- made me wish for a dog! The three of them were hiking the CT a week or so at a time, one chunk each year. I hope they made it through to Silverton.

I ended up pushing past their stopping point (the beautiful yurt at 8.7) and trying to make it to Carson Saddle. I didn't get there... not that night. The talus climb at 12.0 was so downright awful, slow, and exhausting, I ended up still at 13,000 feet by nightfall, and camped there. By this point, acclimation to high elevations is pretty much complete -- I had no problems, save an occasional shortness of breath. But there was nothing to burn, and even if I'd had a stove, it might not have worked. I crunched down an uncooked block of Ramen. Hope you'll pack better food choices than I.

Watch for misleading cairns. There's no real danger of getting lost, because the CT track is cut and very clear and other trails can't even be seen. But their guiding rockpiles still stand, leading off over the flowered tundra.

The one nice bit about this high alpine walk is that there was plenty of water, contrary to the somewhat hysterical warnings issued by the Guidebook. If you've been having good afternoon showers over the past several days, if you can clearly see dampness in the top layer of soil, you'll find water, too, at approximately miles 13, 14.4, and 16.5. Look off the trail, to your left. There are some large ponds downhill of every saddle, but also several smaller ones nestled closer to the trail. Collecting water from one of them will save you from having to haul four liters up that monstrous talus scramble.

One item you should drag up there, however... is a pack of spare batteries. Really. Several hikers I spoke with also had their cameras go dead at just this point. Perhaps the devices know that the scenery here is some of the wildest and highest in North America, that there are hundreds of views so striking you'll yearn to capture them. Perhaps it's merely Murphy's law at work. Whatever the ultimate cause of camera failure, make sure your spare batteries are fresh. You may well need them.

Shortly before Carson Saddle, you'll probably start to see ATVs again. The roads they race over are worn in deep ravines and potholes large enough to sink a jeep -- it'd be interesting to see how the accelerated erosion shapes this area over the next couple centuries. The trail soon crosses the road which leads down and to your right; you can stay on switchbacked footpaths for part of the way at first (highly recommended), but eventually you'll have to rejoin the slick, steep road.





The knife-edge ridge extends the next couple hundred yards up the trail is scarier than it looks here. Off to the right, the views are extraordinary and stunning -- and camera slaying. :< Note the plateau and rocky outcrop in the upper-left of this picture. Looks steep? That's where the trail goes.


Jack, with his packs, takes a breather. So does my pack.





Suggested updates to the guidebook:


0.0
Though there are toilets at this trailhead, they are the old type. Which means they stink so strongly of ammonia, you may be in very real danger of passing out and having to be rescued by hazmat crews. Don't know about you, but I'd rather pee behind a tree than risk such a fate.

1.7
It's hard to tell where this water source actually is. I wandered through several meadows and found marshy bits, but no water. It'd be easier to just go ahead to 2.6.

2.6
The actual spring is located off the road to your right, just before you leave the road for the trail; there may be some trickles of water running across the road which mark the general area. To find the best place to gather water, look for a large 'W'-shape of boulders and talus, about 200 feet upslope to your right. There are small pools and streamlets near both bottom points of the 'W'. There are camping spots past the 'W', near the treeline.

3.5
Bear left, climb a hill and enter the Jarosa mesa alpine area. The ground here is very, very rocky, so no actual trail could be cut -- you have to follow cairns for about 2 miles. This is easier than it sounds, as the cairns basically just lead you in a straight line west, to a point just barely left of a hilltop with communications antenna. You wouldn't want to camp up here, though.

5.6
At the base of the hill with the communications antenna, you'll come to a T-intersection. Bear left (west) around the antenna hill. The intersection is marked.

6.5
There are lots of ATVs along this road. Also, if you keep an eye open to your right, you'll see a fantastic red-sided mountain.

8.7
After you head right and downhill, through the forest and away from the ATV road, you'll come to an open field which is crossed by a very faint jeep road. Across the road and to your left, you'll see broad-leaved plants and possibly evidence of erosion, about 100 feet left off the trail. This is the Big Buck spring, and you'll find water somewhere along this watercourse, starting at the eroded spot. If you follow the faint jeep road right (uphill) you'll come to the famously comfortable yurt and a field of wildflowers in about 0.3 miles -- a very highly recommended stopping spot.

8.8
Enter a thick forest and start heading up. These are practically the last trees you'll see for the next 30 miles -- there is precious little firewood ahead, if you've been cooking on campfires. Also, you'll scarcely dip below 12,000 feet for the next 30 miles, and many stoves don't work well at that elevation. Hope you brought a no-cook dinner or two.

11.4
Cross a short knife-edge ridge with tremendous views down to your right. Check your spare camera batteries: I only discovered that mine had died here, when I needed them most! To your left, you can spot pools of water at the head of Ruby Creek. To get to the water there, though, it's a half-mile hike south and maybe 300 feet down.

12.0
Make a note of this point, for it is the single most difficult portion of the CT. The trail seems to head straight up a crumbling cliffside, and you'd be forgiven for thinking that the trail could not possibly go up right *there.* But it does. Take your time on the climb, watch for any indication of switchbacks, as they will make your ascent marginally easier. You might want to pack up your trekking poles, so you can use your hands better. Be extraordinarily careful about cutting switchbacks, even if it's clear other people have become confused and done so, because you could find yourself rim-rocked on the edge of a cliff. I did. My only consolation on the climb was the occasional hoofprint -- proof that horses have made it up this slice of talus hell. And if horses made it, so could I... and so can you.

13.0, 14.4, 16.5
There were ponds near the trail (within 0.3 miles and 100 vertical feet) at all these spots. The ones at 14.4 are evidently quite reliable, the others may only appear in the days after rain. Unless you're hiking during a very dry year, don't try to haul tons of water up the awful ascent at 12.0.

The elevation profile for this segment is generally correct.

---->Onward, to segment 23!

Segment 21

San Luis Pass to Spring Creek Pass




One of the three mineral creeks. This one is flowing directly out of a mineral-streaked rockpile. The water smelled strange, even after adding iodine.


Shortly after crossing the first mineral creek, I came across this. Don't drink the water for too long, I guess.


This is the 'tree cover' and 'water source' at mile 5.3. There was no water, and though there were plenty of trees, the ground beneath them was sloped uncomfortably.


Looking down onto Snow Mesa.





On Snow Mesa, I met my first real-life, honest-to-goodness cowboy. Well, sheepboy, rather. Shepherd. Whatever. He seems to ride along the trail most afternoons, looking for lost sheep and chatting up hikers -- he's become something of a trail icon, and is frequently seen in this area between June-September. He has a little stiff-walled cabin/tent up in the hills, and is quite friendly, albeit somewhat lonely. He's helped hikers out before -- he rode up to a spring and picked up clean water for one couple, and he's got good advice about the area. So if you see a man on horseback, riding towards you with a lean and rangy dog and a rifle, don't worry much. He'd appreciate some cigarettes if you have any, though.

One of his pieces of advice concerns camping on Snow Mesa -- despite what the book claims, it really isn't that bad, nor dangerous... provided you stay off the ridges during thunderstorms, of course.






Long views on the climb up past Creede.


The steep and rocky gully which leads down, off Snow Mesa.


The wild and meandering trail.


A talus slope around mile 0.5. Can you spot the two ptarmigan?


There's one! They blend in almost perfectly, and aren't much frightened of hikers. Their chicks are often nearby in early summer, and are even more adorable.





Suggested updates to the guidebook:


2.0
This stream doesn't actually cross the trail -- you have to head down and to the right about a hundred feet to find shallow, marshy water.

2.7
All the mineral creeks have a strange taste to them -- a little bitter, perhaps. This might not be be surprising, since they seem to flow right out of talus and possibly old mine tailings. Still, I drank the water, and I apparently lived to tell the tale.

4.0
Middle mineral creek has several stream beds, all but one of which are usually dry. So if you pass a couple dry gullies and are starting to worry, don't.

4.7
This is nearly the steepest section of the CT -- several scary steep switchbacks cling to the side of a cliff. There's a tiny trickle of water here, too, running a couple hours after a light rain.

5.3
The books say this is the last campsite with tree cover, and also that there's possibly water. You should note that there is only running water during times when there is plenty of snow in this area -- and when there is, you probably don't need liquid water all that badly. While there is tree cover, flat spots are rare; I spent an uncomfortable and thirsty night.

5.8
However, just over this next saddle, there's an alpine valley with plenty of flat spots. There's often water down in the bottom, too, and possibly a little dry wood laying around from scattered small, twisted scrub and brush. Wish I'd camped here, instead. Up ahead 2.5 miles, there's one more good spot to camp before Snow Mesa.

7.9 to 8.2
There is a very long talus slope traverse here, the rocks of which are just the right size to tip the moment you entrust your weight to them. Watch your ankles.

8.4
Down to your left, there's a flat camping spot and possibly water a little lower. It may be a little windy here, though. It's better to get water here rather than further along -- sheep frequent snow mesa and are busily besmichin' the streams.

11.1
Running water is also available here, though it does smell slightly of sheep.

13.6
I actually didn't find any water here -- there's probably only water during actual storms and while there's snow on the ground.

14.9
There was a full irrigation ditch here just before the road, which usually contains water.

Elevation profile was roughly correct for this segment.

----> Onward, to segment 22!

Segment 20

Eddiesville Trailhead to San Luis Pass




The view of San Luis saddle and peak, from around mile 7.


Looking back down lovely Cochetopa valley, from the San Luis saddle.


Standing atop San Luis saddle, looking towards Creede. Even in late July, the tundra was scattered with flowers.


Jagged, alien cliffs surround the alpine valleys through which you pass, after San Luis peak.




This stretch of the trail is a tough one for resupplies. The hitch into Creede later on, at the end of segment 21, is a difficult one -- and 33 miles long, to boot. Creede is temptingly close here, at about ten miles away, but over roads infrequently traveled. What to do?

Most hikers who passed me had good luck hitching with people climbing San Luis peak. Peak baggers hike on weekend mornings, so if you get to the end of the segment by the early afternoon, you should be able to make friends and catch a ride back to town.

Another option, if you have a satellite phone, (or if you can get cell reception atop any ridge -- unlikely, alas) is to call Debbie. She'll pick you up from the San Luis trailhead, about 2 miles from the pass. She will also take you back up there. She charges between $8-20/person each way, depending on how many of you there are.

Also, if you just start walking towards town in the early/midmorning, you stand a fair chance of just running into Debbie when she takes hikers up, especially on Monday mornings. I did. She'll take you back down to town for free, since she's headed that way already.

To walk towards town from San Luis Pass, first head left, downhill, alongside a small stream for about 1 mile. When you come to a tall post, take a right along an old jeep track, which fords the now-medium-size stream a couple of times. You then come to a parking area, with a good dirt road. This is where Debbie will drop you off, or pick you up if you called her. You can follow this road about two more miles, crossing the stream a couple of times, to a fork. Head right, fording the stream again, and continue on this road all the way down, past amazing old mining ruins. You will almost certainly start seeing more traffic in a mile or two.

The cheapest rooms in Creede are at the Snowshoe inn -- a night will set you back eighty bucks, but you get a microwave and fridge and breakfast and free internet (wireless and via a netbook in the office.) You could easily put four hikers in a room, too.

To get hold of Debbie, call: 719 850 8715 (cell) or 719 658 2705 (home.) She will also drive you elsewhere in Colorado for about a dollar a mile.





Thistles in bloom on San Luis saddle.


Fantastic cliffside campsite, just before the stream at mile 10.9. A great spot for an early morning trip into Creede, and there's plenty of firewood. Unfortunately, as there was plenty of dry firewood, I built a nice big fire....


... and ended up doing this to my cooking pot. Yep, my campfire melted fairly high grade cooking-pot aluminum. Whoops.





Suggested updates to the guidebook:

0.0
From the Eddiesville Trailhead register, walk *right* along the dirt road, past some campsites and out to another larger dirt road. *Then* head left, over Stuart creek, past a sign for the Eddiesville Corral, past a big locked gate. The road ends here; the trail continues on past the register.

0.5
Follow along the fence line, with the fence to your left.

1.0
There's a gate to your left -- this is not the gate you're looking for.

1.3
This gate is directly in front of you -- pass through.

1.5
There's a weathered sign here stating that taking horses over the next ten miles of trail his highly inadvisable -- impossible, even. As I was standing there reading, a lady on horseback passed me, headed back the way I'd come. She was confidently mounted, was leading two packhorses, and was accompanied by several energetic and happy dogs. So much for the warning.

1.7
The rocky climbs and boulder fields mentioned in the guidebook are mainly filled with dirt now; the path isn't smooth in places, but it certainly isn't bad, either.

5.0
Starting here and extending for perhaps the next two and a half miles, the trail can be exceedingly muddy in places. Astoundingly muddy. So muddy, you may begin to wonder whether to laugh or cry while digging your sandal from another sucking mudpit. If you encounter such mud, make sure to take you time and poke apparently-solid spots with a pole before stepping.

7.5
The 'Stewart Creek trail' signpost here doesn't, oddly, seem to point to any trail. Perhaps the Stewart creek trail was just very overgrown, for I couldn't find it. Not to worry if you can't either -- just continue straight/left on the well-trod CT.

7.6
The campsite here, after you cross Cochetopa fork, does indeed have a commanding view of the valley, and you're sure to see early morning animal traffic across the pass. There is not much firewood or treecover here, though.

9.2
The snow-fed spring here was not running -- not a huge deal, as the creeks at 10.5 and 10.9 had water.

10.5
Spring Creek Trail may now be called 'Bondholders Meadows' and there's not much trail to spot. There's good water a couple days after rain, though, which isn't mentioned in either book.

10.6
Enter trees. Good campspots here, especially a bit further in, just before the next stream.

10.9
Another small stream, then a steep climb over one last saddle.

12.7
A signpost points the way to Creede (left) and the CT (straight.) To get to Creede, see below.

The elevation profile is roughly correct.

----> Onward, to segment 21!

Segment 19

Segment 19
Saguarche Park Road to Eddiesville TH



The hot, dusty CT track weaves up and down along the rocky slope above lovely Cochetopa creek (right-hand track.) Nicer, but potentially muddy, trails follow the stream bed.


Long views in ranch country.


This is the messy intersection at 2.4 -- the pic is taken looking back from the way you come (if you're headed to Durango.) You can see the post marker -- the cows promptly knocked it back down again after I left. Careful here!





Had the Gunnison Sherriff stop me at the beginning of this segment. Yep. He wanted to know if I'd seen two hikers, who'd called in due to a sprained ankle. I had to tell him that I'd not seen anyone matching the description. He nodded sadly. "This happens every couple'a weeks," he said, "they almost always get a hitch into town long before we can get here. But I had to drive sixty miles to find that out." He sighed. "They never do let us know." He drove on, planning to look for the hikers for another hour or so, then head back -- half a day's work and a whole lot of taxpayer dollars for nothing. I'm not sure the moral here needs repeating... but I'm going to do it anyway. For heaven's sakes! Don't call S&R and then go do your own thing without letting them know! Honestly. Ok, no more soapbox now. Really.

The first half of this segment is cowtown central. If you've been so lucky as to escape seeing cattle before now... well, never fear, there are lots of spotting opportunities here. This is a real problem around mile 2.4, where the road becomes a morass of mud and hoofprints and dirt tracks going everywhere. There is a signpost towards the middle-right of the tangle -- just push cows out of your way until you can find the pile of rocks where the sign is supposed to stand. One of those fallen posts near the base will have a triangle marker on it. Don't worry too much about wedging the post upright again; the cows'll promptly just push it over -- people following two hours behind me found the sign as flat as it was when I arrived, with a cow laying atop it, to boot.

Fortunately, you soon cross over a high grassy saddle and descend towards Cochetopa creek, which is beautiful. There are abundant grassy campsites -- the first one lacks nearby wood for a fire, though, so you might want to choose a spot a little further along or spend some time collecting from the hillside above before dark. The Guidebook names this the loneliest segment, but I chatted or camped with a good half-dozen or more hikers, so don't let the threat of solitude frighten you off.

After you head upstream across the creek and then enter the wilderness, the trail heads up the narrow Cochetopa valley, keeping high over the river bottom, probably to avoid mud and floods. But parallel trails below looked much more temperate and far more interesting, albeit possibly slower. The CT and these fishermen's trails lead to the same place... but once you start seeing expansive pale white cliffs to your left, it's time to head right, up the hill, to rejoin the CT. It's then only another two miles to the ranch houses of Eddiesville.






Well-worn track meanders along the valley bottom around mile 7.


The bridge over Cochetopa creek, at mile 9.7, isn't nearly as hard to find as the guidebook implies. The 'strange' rock formation mentioned in the guidebook is also pictured here.





Suggested updates to the guidebook:

0.0
The segment begins where the trail splits from Saguarche Park Road, so keep an eye open to your right.

1.2
There are a few steep, but very brief, climbs, then you dip down into Ant creek. It was flowing, when I passed -- it probably flows several days after each rainstorm. However, it was thoroughly trampled by cattle, and the water resembled tea.

1.5, 2.2
Neither of these turns, mentioned in the databook, was particularly noticeable.

2.4
This is the spot where I came closest to being dangerously lost. The phrase 'maze of roads' in the databook is an apt description. The signpost is probably laying where a cow pushed it over. If you can't find it, head straight and slightly right, towards a place where the trail threads between two fenced long-grass/marshy areas.

3.6
After you come over a hilltop with awesome views, and go through a gate, you'll drop down into a broad valley stretching off to your left. At the bottom, there's another fence-protected wetland/long-grass area. There is sometimes water at the down-slope edge of this wetland area.

5.4
Large, pretty meadow atop this saddle. This area would make a nice camp... but unfortunately, everything is plastered in cow poop. If you have any choice in the matter, keep going -- just another 1.5 miles!

5.6
FS gate

7.0
At long last, Cochetopa creek. This valley is beautiful, and the fly fishing is fantastic. There are numerous campsites all along the river.

9.8
The CT climbs high above the river. It dips up and down and is much hotter and more boring than the pretty little paths that follow the river. So far as I can tell, the river and hillside paths all go the same direction -- upriver. However, near mile 11.5, you should probably abandon the river paths, as the valley narrows and grows rocky. (See picture below.)

12.0
FS gate

12.1
This 'grassy bench' is actually a big, rolling, clifftop meadow -- signs of cattle reappear abundantly, alas.

12.8
You can finally start spotting ranch buildings up ahead.

13.1
This 'split' is no longer very visible -- just follow the marked trail. It's hard to get lost up there.

13.7
Gate, register, and parking area at this trailhead.

The elevation profile is roughly correct for this segment -- though again, the places which look smooth on the profile... usually aren't.
----> Onward, to Segment 20!

Segment 18

Colorado Hwy-114 to Saguarche Park Road.




Can you spot where you're supposed to go?


There it is! The secret gate of mile 0.0.


Interesting cabin ruins near the trail at mile 11.





This segment begins with an odd walk down a heavily-used paved road, to a gate which can be somewhat difficult to locate, particularly if the highway department has deposited an enormous pile of gravel immediately in front of it. Once through that gate, however, the way becomes a singletrack trail once more, following creeks through rolling ranching territory for a while, then heading up into dry pine and scrub. It's actually a rather pretty walk -- and an easy one, for a change.

There were strange and interesting mushrooms along the way, too -- tasty shaggy manes, weird ink caps -- growing and thriving in the dryer environment. There are, however, not many people. Despite what the guidebook says, I found this to be one of the least traveled sections of the trail. It may be one of the least maintained, at any rate -- you'll likely have to deal with fallen trees along some parts of the trail.

Which makes it all the stranger that aliens are not permitted on this portion of the CT. Really. Check the forest service signs, as you come to them -- most list the normal restrictions, like no motorcycles, no hang gliders, and so on... but many also list no grays. Other types of alien might be alright; I'm not sure. Seems somehow miserly, to have someone come all that way across the galaxy and then not permit them to do a little hiking.






No aliens permitted on the CT.


Not a fence for a quarter mile in any direction, but the gate still stands incongruously among the flowers.


Expansive views on the dirt road near Archuleta creek.


Perfect blue sky -- and lots of sun, to dry out your sodden gear!





Suggested updates to your guidebook:

0.0
Above is a picture of the wide parking area -- the gate and sign were hidden behind a giant pile of gravel when I passed. Thanks bunches, highway-builder-dudes. Still, this is the first and most distinctive parking area you'll pass, so just walk along the fence and look for the gate.

0.1
Lujan creek was running merrily at this point, too. (Don't worry if Lujan disappears from time to time between here and the last point you crossed it.)

1.7
Follow Pine creek for a while -- the water here was good throughout 2010, -- then cross it. That crossing is the last water you'll see for at least 5.5 miles.

3.8, 6.4, 6.6
Gates

6.7
This water is 3 miles east -- a long side trip, given that the water just 3 miles ahead is pretty reliable.

6.8
The road curves in a long switchback. One could, if sufficiently motivated, cut a half mile off their walk by heading straight downhill, between the sagebrush, to the turnoff.

7.2
Also running fine in 2010. There are deep pools near the end of the fenced wetland section, and just where the road crosses the stream bed.

9-10
The guidebook makes this section sound very complicated. It isn't -- the trail just reroutes around a marshy section. Keep your eyes open for posts, blazes, and triangle markers... but it's hard to get lost.

9.6
Plenty of water here, as well, where the road dips down and crosses a small tributary stream.

10.3
Awesome viewpoint where you can look down into Cochetopa park

10.5
Follow along a fence. Stay on the downhill road, don't go through any of the gates to your right.

11.0
Nifty cabin ruins, to your left. The trees here are the last shade for a good three miles or so.

11.9
Once passing through this gate (there's a walk-over, too. Nice!) keep an eye open for trail signs -- the road splits in places, but the way is well-marked.

The elevation profile for this segment is roughly correct.
----> Onward, to segment 19!