Oh, I missed it? Perfect!

Day OneTwentyThree, October 18, 16 Miles
At Mile 2400, Poptart 856/1000
MY RED PEN THAT ALMOST MADE TWO THRU-HIKES DIED. THIS IS TERRIBLE NEWS. SO CLOSE!!
Pretty sick of hitching, glad there is only one more town left that needs to be hitched into. Took two rides, both were awesome. So again I am conflicted in my feelings about hitch-hiking. Curses. Managed to cash some travellers cheques in town so I have money again.
That windmill and it's usually reliable tank were bone dry. Luckily RT and myself weren't counting on it. Easy road walking and some brand new trail, which was loverly. Easy climb up Wagontounge Mountain then cairn-following and a leisurely stroll through a trackless canyon floor.
Found the cabins and the "oily" spring. The cabins were both in good shape, one would have been nice to sleep in 'cept for the rodent crap and the fact that it creeped me out. A lot. The oily spring was oily. But I pulled and drank anyway 'cause my stomach lets me. Really not that bad. The moon is full and bright. Cooked for the first time in I can't remember and sleeping outside for only the second time in a week.

Harvest the fall savings?

Day OneTwentyTwo, October 17, 15 Miles
At Mile 2384, Poptart 848/1000
Easy road walking all the way to the highway. I learned about Fructose. Rolling Thunder was at the highway and we got a relatively quick hitch to Aaragon. Then waited a while before getting a friendly 65mph back-of-the-truck ride down to Reserve. Small town, pretty nice. Got a big, comfortable hotel room and called it. As much as I enjoy being with everyone, it's wicked relaxing having only the two of us in a hotel room. Watched Colts/Redskins and Vikings/Cowboys. Enjoying the football a lot more this year, it takes time.

Gas station.

Day OneTwentyOne, October 16, 25 Miles
At Mile 2369, Poptart 842
Finally left Pie Town about ten. Not before I enjoyed my beer-infused Jell-O. Which was a solid breakfast. Road all day. Started getting stomach cramps. Really bad. Had to rest a whiles then just man through it. Which was not fun. No idea why either cause they left about 8pm and never came back. DIY and me lost RT, think he's on top of the hill behind us. We have an awful spot and I can't really set up my tarp. Please don't rain...

Kings and compromises.

Day OneTwenty, October 15, 0 Miles
At Mile 2344, Poptart 834/1000
Myself, RT and DIY half packed this morning, I swear. We had to check out the Pie-O-Neer ( http://www.pie-o-neer.com/ ), the other Pie restaurant in Pie Town. And very glad we did, it's a really cool little cafe and Kathy is one of the greatest people in the world. The best pie I've ever eaten, anywhere. No doubt. I officially retracted my "pie is just pie" statement. It's always nice being welcomed and Pie Town has been perhaps the most welcoming town on any trail I've ever hiked. A little too welcoming even...
"You know, we don't really need to leave today..." RT mentioned.
And that was that, another zero. Another afternoon of chilling on the porch, drinking and eating. Found some burgers in the back of the freezer and had some makeshift bagel burgers. Which even featured tinned beetroot, in true Kiwi style. RT and I were all over it, DIY was somewhat skeptical. Americans...

Reverse order, Pie Town to Cuba. Oh.

Budweiser + Jell-O = Michael's America.











Pie Town! Finally...











Kombucha and Hawkeye, Pie Town 60.









Car.









Peanut M&M's on Mt. Taylor. This was the beginning of the end for so many reasons.









Mesa country between Cuba and Grants.




Points.











Another storm that didn't bother us. Over Cuba, New Mexico.





Bad idea sucka.

It makes me look so much more creative. I'm awesome!

Day OneNineteen, October 14, 0 Miles
At Mile 2344, Poptart 832/1000
Yeah zero. Hawkeye and Kombucha headed out, should be able to meet back with them in Mimbres or Deming when they get back from a wedding. Washed clothes, tidied the house a bit, read, typed a fortnight (fort! Night!) worth of journal but mostly did nothing. All is well.
Massive thanks to Nita and the Pie Town Community. You are greatness.

Sneaking peaks at the wall.

Day OneEighteen, October 13, 0 Miles
At Mile 2344, Poptart 832/1000
Zero at the toaster house. Myke, Rock Steady, DnA headed out. Hawkeye and Kombucha succumbed to my zero creating 'powers' (it's really not that hard, but my tally is now five). DIY, RT and Scout showed up along with some divide cyclists. Scout and Mykes parents headed of for Albuquerque and Nita's gone to Malibu. All these comings and goings are just another reason why this place is so cool. Luckily, RT has a zero in mind and I can stick around for that. No problem.

He fell asleep with a poptart in his hand.

Day OneSeventeen (unlike the Transplants song...), October 12, 25 Miles
At Mile 2344, Poptart 830/1000
Fell asleep last night halfway through a poptart. Woke a couple hours later, took another bite and promptly fell asleep again. Guess I wasn't in the best of ways. Cold, restless night, awoke early and got myself moving before 5am. Have kind of missed hiking this early, the last two mornings have been nice. It is a wonderful time to be hiking. Feeling pretty good, the rest did me well. Disappointing because virtually any other day and the 60 would have been a bit of a slog but I'd have got through fine I think. Had to be one of the days my body crapped out. Oh well, another day perhaps... No lava made this morning even easier. Follow the road. Keep following the road. Hardly needed the headlamp except to alert traffic of my presence. Amazingly, there was traffic, on this road, at this hour. I'm sure if they're locals they're used to seeing CDT'ers hiking at all hours through here. Miles went by quickly (not quick enough). The sun rose colourfully where it normallly does and the colour was reflected in the western sky. Cold moning, didn't really warm up till ten. Something of a weird feeling, just finishing what I should have done yesterday, but that distance being 25 miles. About six miles from Pie Town, bouncing along to Emergency! Emergency!, a small Jeep approaches. A hand reaches out. Holding a Sprite. It's Dan, Hawkeye and Kombucha. Sat on the road for a bit, assured them I was fine and soon enough I was seeing them again in Nita's Toaster House in the awesomeness that is Pie Town. Pie Town is a tiny dot on the highway that consists of a Post Office, two pie cafes, a collection of buildings and houses and Nita's. The Toaster House is the most well known of the small handful of established CDT Trail Angels. Nita now lives up the road a bit so the house has no full time resident, remaining open to hikers, bikers and travellers. A very special place. A character-filled old house that holds the stories of hundreds.
Great to see Hawkeye and Kombucha had cleared the PTS. Awesome to see Dan and Anna, and Rock Steady who none of us had seen since the Winds in Wyoming. All are well. Wrong Way is also here, having finished his NOBO. Hung out and chatted the rest of the day as others, local and not passed through. Nita stopped by a couple of times and she is a truly wonderful, generous soul. The trail community is all the better with her support and friendship. I see vortex. Crushed a lot of cans kid.

S.P.F.C.C.S.M.F.T.F.D.T.

Day OneSixteen, October 11, 35 Miles
At Mile 2319, Poptart 826/1000
Woke up to the sound of Kombucha's alarm.
Groaned.
Already??
But they weren't moving.
If they won't I won't.
But I should, we need to get going.
Hawkeye lightly snoring.
I get out my headlamp and check the time.
12:30am
Dang.
Four hours later the process repeats itself, this time we eventually all get up and pack. A little after 5am we're off. This is our sixty mile day to Pie Town. The PTS. Couple miles to the highway then across to El Malpais (The Badlands). A giant lava field. Great. Walking on lava blows. By the time we'd crossed we were averaging 2.5mph. With 50 miles left for the day it was already looking like we'd be in for a long day. Meanwhile RT and Scout were going to stay off road as much as possible, go at a normal pace and meet us in Pie Town in a couple days. After refilling from our cache we started on the 17 miles along the shoulder of highway 117. Passing La Ventana (The Window) Natural Arch and The Narrows then out in the hot, wide openness of New Mexico. Kombucha's brother Keith came out to meet us as we hit dirt York Ranch Road, the road that would carry us most of the remaining 32 miles to Pie Town. We took bets on what time we'd get in. Mine was 2am but a seed of doubt and tiredness was growing. I had began to feel as I did about the same time of day a week or so ago. Not good. Not sure what it is, nothing to do with miles, temperature, rest, anything I can make sense of. All I knew is I wasn't going to walk sixty miles today and I was extremely disappointed. Crashed hard at about 6pm as my two friends pushed on.

Country cool; different coloured.

Day OneFifteen, October 10 (10/10/10!!), 23 Miles
At Mile 2284, Poptart 820/1000
Great sleep in Hugo and Carole's backyard. Awoke to a massive, delicious breakfast that Carole had whipped up for us. Hard to leave but leave we must. Said our goodbyes and headed on our way. A huge thankyou to Hugo and Carole for everything. Food, shower, company, generosity, water and most importantly the friendship they have given us and the trail. How can one not have faith in humanity?
It wouldn't be a leaving town day if we didn't allow ourselves to be distracted by food. And we had to introduce Scout to the ways of Team Pacific Rim. He's from San Diego too so he definitely fits in. Embrace the distracted. First was the supermarket, then Hawkeye, RT and I simply had to get some burritos from Sonic. Unfortunately (also, luckily for our southward progress) the Hawaiian BBQ place was closed (down?) but McDonalds was open, of course. At eleven we were privileged to watch the changing of the menu. Exciting times. Called Carole to suggest pushing back our on-trail rendezvous by an hour might be a good idea. Save them waiting for us.
Finally, back on trail. All road today. Through Zuni Canyon, then Bonita. Having Scout with us injected fresh spirit and new stories, new conversation and the opportunity to tell trail stories to someone who understands. Met Hugo and Carole, who were cashing water for us. Which is a massive help, without the two cache's they gave us it'd be an unthinkable carry out of Grants. Potentially as high as 64 miles... We were also given beer, ice-cream and a special wee bag of Peanut M&M's. Which I actually enjoy again. Today was wonderful.
Changed the batteries in my headlamp for tomorrow. Love my Petzel eLite, those batteries had been in since somewhere in Oregon last year and this is the first time I've actually managed to run a set dry. Granted, the beam has very weak for a while, but it's enough. Get ma moneys worth for sure.

This could be the number that brings it all crashing down.

Day OneFourteen, October 9, 6 Miles
At Mile 2261, Poptart 816/1000
Very happy to get going this morning, an extra mile of trail was annoying but got to town a little before 9am. Done. That was my limit. Physically, I think I could handle another couple thirties but mentally no. All other restricted resupply challenges now pale in comparison. 108 miles of nothing but Peanut M&M's, save for water. Legit. Now, onto salt. Walked through the supermarket, getting my resupply and overwhelmed by what would be my first item of salty deliciousness. With all the treats in the world at my immediate disposal I left the store with nothing. Nothing. But there was a reason, what I really wanted, what I'd been craving, was the BBQ chips from the Dollar Store. And there was one close by. And so it was I was reunited with salt. Happy. Headed to the trail angels, who'd put out a cache below Mt Taylor and we'd made contact with. Hugo and Carole, true trail magic of the highest order. Four smelly hikers were welcomed into their home, fed, washed and introduced to their three awesome dogs, bird and a mysterious number of cats (Hawkeye later figured eleven). Spent the afternoon chatting about the trail and the local area. Apparently Scout, who'd come out from San Diego to hike a section, had hiked out planning to surprise us. Unfortunately, we'd taken different routes and missed each other. Actually, this may have been a good thing. He was packing out beer and as still bound by the rules at that point Hawkeye and myself may have cracked. Good to see Scout again when he showed up, as did Myke with his parents Beth and Phil. Watched some college football. About four games simultaneously. Which is the only tolerable way to actually watch games. Very happy right now.

What's R'n'B without the R'ahh?

Day OneThirteen, October 8, 27 Miles
At Mile 2255, Poptart 816/1000
Got a pretty big storm last night which made walking on the clay-mud road a pleasure. Mt Taylor was cool and at 11,301ft the last significant high point of the CDT. Not that we're on the actual divide. We haven't seen it since Cumbres Pass in Colorado and won't till just before Pie Town. Where we probably won't even notice. Camped on the edge of the drop down to Grants, looking majestic this evening. Hardly ate anything this afternoon, well sick of the M&M's. Even Hawkeye is. Thinking about all the awesome town food I've eaten on an empty stomach. Happiness.

Done with all this thinking.

Day OneTwelve, October 7, 30 Miles
At mile 2228, Poptart 816/1000
Clear, warm morning. Easy hiking 'cause we took the road for a change of pace. Faster pace. Town. Hawkeye's doing better than me but the Peanut M&M's are starting to wear. Definitely will not run out, pretty well force eating. Salt cravings and that hollow stomach feeling from not eating anything of substance. If you think I'm whining, that at least I get to eat, it's true. But we are doing big miles. The body demands sustenance. And despite this, I do like these challenges. This particular one came from me cruising 56 miles last year and my curiosity of how far a thru-hiker can take Peanut M&M's. At least this thru-hiker.
Dropped down to Ojo de los Indios (Indian Springs) for lunch and high quality H2O. More road after lunch, caught DIY, found a nice camp in some pines. Soft duff mmm. Not before some blue sky rain though. No clouds around at all except these wee little puffs. Which were apparently the source of the rain. Grand. Some hunters just offered beer, Elk steaks and potatoes. Which Hawkeye and myself are bound by the rules of the challenge to refuse. Oh, how I hate the world. Resorted to eating all the orange, red and brown M&M's this afternoon. I swear I can taste the difference between the different food colourings. Red Lake 40 is the best, Yellows 5 and 6 are pretty good. Not a big fan of the Blues, except Lake 2.

How long can/does it really last?

Day OneEleven, October 6, 29 Miles
At Mile 2198, Poptart 816/1000
Well, at least that gives me all four states. Rained out of a cowboy for the fourth and hopefully last time, as usual it was all but over by the time I'd set up my tarp. Same Mesa walking as yesterday, which was wonderful. Trail was craving attention as it so often does, winding around, spent much time cairn spotting and snake checking. Landscape here is incredible, like I so often say. Just imagine all those westerns you saw. Cowboy man. Lunch at a tap that worked, despite hearing it didn't (RT later dubbed it Schroedinger's Tap, which I love), really good water. There have been just enough great sources that we're willing to carry and avoid the crap, which has been nice. Wind picked up in the afternoon and some big storms rolled in. It's always much more enjoyable watching a storm that's passing you by. The way they colour the desert is worth stopping and watching. Crossed the wide and slightly flowing Arroyo Chico and enjoyed another orange/blue sunset. Missed Ley's famed quicksand, not wet enough dangnit. Pushing for Ojo Frio, our next water, I lost sight of the others, then stopped seeing cairns. This meant I was no longer on the CDT. I was on a cow path, or a horse trail, or a sandy little draw. As darkness crept towards me I stubbornly persisted. Not until the trail swung back north, a direction I was most definitely not supposed to be walking, did I take a quick survey at my map and realise I needed to be just over there on the other side of the hill. Cross country was not the most appealing of prospects in the gloom with the abundance of pointy flora about. I eventually hit a fence and what I was disappointed to find was not a gate. Headed towards where the trail was along the fenceline, I figured I'd find myself soon enough. Down and scrambling back up a washout I has kicking cacti in the dark when I spotted another figure stumbling towards me. RT. We immediately spotted two headlamps in the exact location we were headed and hopped the fence. Hopped is probably not the best word actually. RT slithered under whilst I, in my infinite tallness got halfway between almost over and pretty-much-over before losing my balance. Luckily a friendly cactus was there to break my fall. Nice water, nice campsite, dead headlamp. Peanut M&M's are still treating us both well. Although I must admit that I'm extremely intimidated by the fact there are two full days left before the final morning. No salt cravings to speak of, worried about that too. My experience with these ridiculous food challenges tells me I should be craving it hard right now.

Once, twice, three times a lady.

Day OneTen, October 5, 19 Miles
At Mile 2169, Poptart 812/1000
We walked from Canada to Cuba. Unbroken line of footsteps. That's right.
Followed paved roads, then the highway into Cuba. Passed some fairly ratty houses and their dogs. Learned from a local walking ahead of us that carrying dog food saves getting harassed too badly. Got to about the centre of the primarily boarded up town and were stopped by a local police officer named Tom. The trail literally follows the highway/main street through town so we're not an uncommon sight. He asked how all was going, weather, plans etc. We asked where the best place to breakfast was. He suggested Prescilanos and offered to drive us back there. So we piled into the cage and thanked him. Cuba continued to be a particularly friendly town, despite it's external appearances. It has everything a hiker needs and not having to hitch and being able to leave whenever and immediately be on trail makes our simple lives even easier. Hawkeye and myself went on the Peanut M&M hunt for our resupply. Dollar store ended up being the best place and we near on cleaned them out of M&M's. This is the section I had decided would be the 100+ mile Peanut M&M challenge. The make or break. Can you hike 25's for four days on sugar and chocolate covered peanuts? Budget and stock levels restricted us to 3500 Calories a day. Which is very reasonable actually. It is, however, a tiny amount of food volume-wise. Thus, we both have The Fear.
Left town early afternoon, it begins. Five miles along the highway then a well marked but lightly tracked route through all varieties of desert pointiness to Mesa Portales. Which was incredible. On the top edge of the Mesa, above a drop of a couple hundred feet. Cacti waiting to ambush the side of your feet every time you look up. Something amazing trying to slip by unnoticed every time you look down.
Made it to Jones Canyon but not quite the spring, we have enough water. Ate some Peanut M&M's. Still delicious.

Top five emcee's.

Day OneOhNine, October 4, 27 Miles
At Mile 2150, Poptart 808/1000
Better this morning. Little bit of highway walking then a long, easy climb to the San Pedro Parks/Peaks Wilderness area. Which is basically just some meadows. Camped a little out of Cuba.

But I want a regular banana later. So, yeah.

Day OneOhEight, October 3, 25 Miles
At Mile 2123, Poptart 796/1000
Left pretty early, passed through the awkward and unfriendly visitors centre and museum at the highway and roaded to the canyon of the Rio Chama. Which I was a little disappointed by, but expectations and all that. Climbing, into a storm and past our first rattlesnake, a juvenile that had no rattles yet. Carrying three litres of water. As late afternoon rolled along I started feeling less than ok. By the time we set up I was shivering and crashed. Unfortunately the weather forced me to set up my tarp for the first time in eleven days dangnit. Fell asleep the second I got into my bag until my own snoring woke me up an hour later (which leads me to believe it would be impossible for me to snore regularly). Fell back asleep and awoke a little before eleven, forced some food and slept away the bad feelings.

Wise man.

Day OneOhSeven, October 2, 0 Miles
At Mile 2098, Poptart 786/1000
Convinced each other that a zero was the thing to do. And zero we did. Hung out in the library, more internet, more eating, more nothing. Fell asleep watching a huge lightning storm to the north. Ghost Ranch has been a joy to visit.

The tropics of Cancer, Capricorn and a wrecked knee.

Day OneOhSix, October 1, 3 Miles
At Mile 2098, Poptart 784/1000
Oh, that's exactly what I wanted to happen. In a way.
Box Canyon was unbelievable. Scrambling upstream, over, under and through. Probably need photos. The narrowing canyon, worn smooth by millennia of flash floods and an apparently permanent spring-fed creek, dead-ended in a massive amphitheatre that had us staring, wondering, wandering and smiling. Definitely the best side trip yet. Back down and headed for Ghost Ranch. The landscape here is incredible. Georgia O'Keefe lived here, it's not hard to see why and her paintings say more than words can. Ghost Ranch is also something incredible. A Presbyterian desert retreat and conference centre that is beyond welcoming and friendly to hikers. Dan, Anna and Myke were there, both Myke and Dan had been sick, Dan with a diagnosed case of the 'G' (giardia). Apparently he had mentioned the claims made by Joker and myself that we were asymptomatic carriers of Giardia. My G research had lead me to believe this is not uncommon amongst adults, the doctor claimed otherwise. Asymptomatic no. But I am right. Of course. I don't know, but I still haven't treated anything and I'm fine, last year was the same. If it's delusion, at least it makes me happy. Hung out around the ranch, got some AYCE, watched a storm, cleaned and interneted. Stayed up late and listened to the AFL final replay. Oh Australia, I miss you. Got to bed around 2am, sleeping out in the campground.

Calm down dearest.

Day OneOhFive, September 30, 28 Miles
At Mile 2095, Poptart 782/1000
Up, early for us, Team Late Rise (TLR). Usually known as Team Pacific Rim (TPR), and occasionally Team Food Challenge (TFC). Three letters are a way of life. A quick and easy morning to Harris Bear Spring. Easy cross country followed by a nice stroll along Mogote Ridge and a road walk through some colourful Aspens and bland grassland. No bears were to be found at the spring, but it's always nice to reach a goal earlier than anticipated. The afternoon found us on the top edge of an escarpment, trailless, through open forest. Very reminiscent of the Blue Mountains at home, great hiking. Dropped down steeply to a road and ran into D.I.Y. Yeso tank was not as bad as it's made out to be. These “tanks” are little man-made lakes/dams which hold water for the stock that are allowed to graze these areas. Americans need their meet and cows need their water. The water is usually horrid and we've not yet had to even consider drinking from any. I probably would though... Without treating...
Leaving jeep road we entered the badland country just north of Ghost Ranch. Completely amazing. That cowboys-and-indians desert south-west type landscape. Cliffs and gullies, little canyons, draws and dry creek beds, the vague trail twisted and turned amongst cacti and sage. I loved it all. The reds and blues, browns and yellows, very happy to finally hike through the desert I had hoped to see in my time here. We dropped into a side canyon, water still doing its thing, carving the smooth rock whichever way it so desires. Relentless. Found a nice sandy spot on the floor of the main canyon after some incredible scenery in the evening light. All cowboyed, flash floods whatever. Got a wee glimpse up Box Canyon and imma going up there to explore tomorrow morning.

That's what happens when you grow up there.

We're in Cuba.
That's right, I walked from Canada to Cuba. Continuous steps.
It's pretty much exactly what I expected.
You should read Rolling Thunder's journal, the link is down there on the right. It's way more updated than mine.

Now marks the winter of Tim Sullivan's discontent.

Day OneOhFour, September 29, 23 Miles.
At Mile 2067, Poptart 772/1000
Late to rise, ten hours of sleep always makes me tired. Some mildly confusing road walking. Strange that the new, official CDT is on road. Supposed to be a silent (meaning vehicle free) trail when finished and all that. Hopewell Lake is little more than a small, man made reservoir, probably for cows. But there was a shelter there, with water pump and trash bins. All the important thru-hiker requirements. Fast miles on a busy Forest Service road, which serviced many Dude ranches and others of unknown purposes. Finally left the boundary of the Tierra Amarilla Grant, still no idea what it is but they make excellent tortillas. For a huge profit. Water has been pretty good so far. Haven't had to treat anything yet, not that I would anyway. Fell behind the others, then they straight up disappeared. Got myself on a accidental/deliberate cross country rainbow. Didn't really know where I was as my map and the real world were disagreeing. So I kept walking in the same direction and as my continuous navigational luck would have it, hi trail. No prints, except those of my friends a couple days ahead so I waited a bit then continued on another cross country shortcut that I semi messed up but came out on trail way further along than I had expected. I am still awesome at this navigation thing. Sat down for an hour, Kombucha, Hawkeye and RT showed up and we worked out we only had to walk another six miles. Camped early at a spring.

Bring me the wizard, bring me the master of the science of signs...

Day OneOhThree, September 28, 27 Miles
At Mile 2044, Poptart 764/1000
New Mexico is awesome.
Some roads, some trails.
Some open plains, some canyons, some forest.
Some filthy cow water, some tasty streams, some pure springs, lots of dry.
Got a bit of all that is good about this state. The Aspens have been amazing over the last few days (you know right?). Can't help it, I love walking through them. Spent about ten minutes before lunch trying to catch a leaf for good luck. I think we all got two and each a couple more sitting there. So lucky we shall be for a couple days. Nice and hot too, getting back into the 30sC. Roads everywhere, spent the last hour hiking surrounded by bugling Elk and howling Coyotes which was very special.

One of every six wins.

Day OneOhTwo, September 27, 9 Miles
At Mile 2017, Poptart 754/1000
Numbers, lists, convenience, scrutiny.
What a day.

1. Quick four miles through Aspen coloured glory to our highway.
2. Cumbres Pass.
3. We left way too much alcohol for Pace, Coach and Whitefish. My flip-flopper friends who I shared NorMT with and have recently started seeing in towns again. This is where they end their crazy CDT thru-hike. Hope they found it in high spirits. I know Whitefish has a couple gaps to fill but congratulations guys. Managed to pull that sucka together.
4. IT TOOK THREE HOURS TO GET A RIDE INTO TOWN.
5. Our ride was awesome, just don't bring up politics. Two rifles under the seat. A norm in Second Amendment crazy USA, still creepy and ridiculous for this kiwi kid. On that note, one of the cars that passed us on the pass was sporting Texas plates reading: 2NDAM. Guns, guns, guns.
6. Best Aspens I've seen anywhere on the ride down and into Chama.
7. In a New Mexico town before the trail takes us here. Kind of like cheating but I'll make an exception for this wonderful town.
8. Ate at super friendly Fosters (not like the 'Australian' 'beer'.).
9. PO, library. Chama is the friendliest and most CDT aware town thus far. Joy.
10. Got offered a ride the two miles down to the supermarket. Without trying. Anti-hitch.
11. Met up with Hawkeye and Kombucha, resupply.
12. Got me some 12% Earthquake HGL for the border. Bad beer and Passion Pop's illegitimate child that one is.
13. While in the supermarket with Kombucha, a friendly local asks about the trail, proves to be welcoming and knowledgeable and offers us a beer at the High Country Restaurant. We were already going there. Turns out the man is Che (Shay? Chay?), the owner of said restaurant and all around CDT Trail Angel.
14. The High Country is probably the best restaurant on trail, for many reasons The food being the main one. Not to mention our witty, secretive waiter/barman of awesomeness.
15. Waiter/barman drops a card on our table as we finish eating. "Special Zed, Minion of the Night" and a phone number. Completely stone faced as he returns to the bar.
16. We are baffled and more than a little intrigued.
17. The bill follows. Our servers name was, apparently, Zed.
18. More intrigued...
19. Realise we need to get hitchin', it's getting dark.
20. Yeah, nothing, no surprise.
21. Lets try Zed?...
22. Zed does provide and soon enough Che is driving us back up to the pass. He also explains a little about Zed.
23. THANKS FOR EVERYTHING CHAMA.
24. The plan was to hike the four miles to the border, drink, and sleep right there.
25. Walking the train tracks (yeah, until last year it was the official trail) we took an extra dark and drunk infused mile-and-a-half loop that would have been saved by a 100m cross country jaunt.
26. We were very confused. It explained a lot though. Details.
27. NM/CO border is a cattle guard on a forest road. As Coach had told us, "That's all you need to know about New Mexico.".
28. Drank some amazingly horrid high gravity larger, lit 2000 candles and slept amongst the cowfilth. In New Mexico.
29. Final state!

You and I could fight this.

Day OneOhOne, September 26, 25 Miles
At Mile 2007, Poptart 748/1000
You stir, roll, groan. Your eyes open. The moon is shining the sun's light into your face but the grey predawn tells you it is time. All around you, the world is covered in frost. The sleeping bag is wet from condensation. But you are warm.
Up. You pack your bag methodically. The same exact way you always do.
Up. Up goes the trail, switching back and forth. Up, across, down and around it swings to Blue Lake.
The lake is blue. Inviting.
Around, up, across open grasslands. Twelve thousand feet high.
The trail is evading you. You walk, cairn to cairn, as the trail appears above, below, over there. Taunting you.
But the trail needs you. It needs your footsteps. Without you it is nothing. It knows this. You know this.
It cooperates.
Sparkling Trail Lake, identical in colour to the cloudless sky. Lunch is consumed, throttled, devastated.
You dry your wet items, including the tarp that has not been used for days.
Across, down, between two majestic valleys of splendour to Dripping Lakes. Shimmering.
The lakes today have been as picturesque as any, anywhere. Colorado's one last surprise.
Up, up and across. The abrupt end of the mountains. There is still divide to walk, but it stretches southward with a much flatter, rolling tone. Save for a few monsters in our future.
Aspens, lakes, mountains, trees and cliffs.
Down the ridge, the sun golden before it sinks below the horizon.
You find a suitable place of rest. Amongst blowdowns and logging paths you eat.
Between two tents you sleep, nothing between you and the inky, star filled sky.
Joy.
Today was the same as the hundred before it.
But different in every way.
This is your bread and butter.
This is how you walk across a country.


2000 miles!!!!!

They steamrolled past the lobby. Did you trip on your shoelace untied?

Day OneOhOh, September 25, 25 Miles
At Mile 1982, Poptart 736/1000
Nice day on or near the divide, the last time we'll be above 12,500ft. South San Juans are being all amazing. Camped high, surrounded by mountains and ridges. I suspect this may be the last campsite like this on trail so no tarp. Making my awesome dinner of Roasted Chicken, Avocado, Rice and Beans on a Tortilla. I'd pay for this at a restaurant.
Oh! The joys of a 63 mile section and thru-hiker fitness.

I think that I like...

Day NinetyNine, September 24, 10 Miles
At Mile 1957, Poptart 724/1000
Watched Big and Wall Street this morning. Hawkeye cooked us Spam, Rice and Eggs, solid Hawaiian breakfast. Finished that burger. Took Dan's rainbow up to the CDT and walked through a nice area where the trees are alive.

Still, they don't write a chorus like iForward, Russia! does.

Day NinetyEight, September 23, 0 Miles
At Mile 1947, Poptart 720/1000
Nice zero. No rain, yesterday's weather has passed these mountains by. Pagosa Springs is perhaps the friendliest town yet and my favourite. Ate a burger. Oh, wait, no, but I tried. RT ate a burger. He destroyed it. Two pounds of meat and a pound of bun and fun. Plus half of his pound of fries. It was called the Monster. RT was the monster. I was coaxed by my three friends and my stupid foodego into the never-before-finished "Double Monster". It was placed in front of me, imposingly, the size of my giant head. With a pound of fries.
"I got it."
Nah.
Same as the monster, just double meat. 'Just', in this case, representing four pounds of hamburger patty. Plus the extra two, a total of six pounds of food.
My plan of attack was some fries, half the meat, the eat the burger like a burger. Throwing down mouthfuls of fries and water. Easy right?
Nah.
Took out half the meat, good, hot, juicy. Needed saucing but I got this. A pound in...
Nah.
I had an hour.
Ended up getting about three quarters through and impressing the chef enough for the both of us to get a free t-shirt. I still had to, for the first and hopefully last time in my life, pay $30 for a burger. RT, Hawkeye and Kombucha had pitched in though, just to watch. It eased the pain a little. Didn't feel too full, but couldn't eat another bite. You can't force burger and bun like you can ice-cream and cake. Don't work like that kid. Good burger though, actually the best I've had in a long time.
So I got the carry out container and carried my failure back to the hotel. Tomorrow.

Yeah, I got photos. When I get to a computer that has a card reader.

Graf Orlock gave me the ability to quote movies I've never even seen. Thanks Graf Orlock!

Day NinetySeven, September 22, 22 Miles
At Mile 1947, Poptart 716/1000
Dreams of Lil' Wayne and Drake (yeah, I know) as football stars destroying whatever team I apparently support were interrupted by rain. That was 4:30 this morning. That was when it began. We'd been told by many a local that rain in Colorado "never lasts more than a couple hours", and up to this point that statement had proven true. Not today. It began. With this in our mind and the rain not too heavy, I almost enjoyed the early, exposed trail as the clouds rolled through and over exposing little pieces of the world here and there.
It got heavier.
I didn't want to go to town today (gotta save $$$$$).
It got heavier.
It wasn't stopping.
I gave up.
"Hey RT, I'm thinking of death marching..."
"I already am."
"I'm in then. Kombucha... Death march?"
"I'm in. Hey, TimTom! Death march!"
"Yep"
And so it was.
Finally dropped down to trees, hoping for a little shelter from the heavens. But no.
It got heavier.
Stopping to get some food and add a layer of clothing to my already soaked and rapidly cooling body everything got a little more wet. My jacket is waterproof enough, usually. Pack cover waterproof enough, usually, and my pack stops the rest. Today was not usual. I was starting to get worried about some of the more valuable and water unfriendly items in my pack but the rain never stopped and I just wanted to get to that highway. Moving fast, but with no idea really how far to go (maps were buried in my pack) I eventually spotted the highway. Should be a couple miles and all down now I think? By this time even my usually impenetrable rain pants had given up. A piece of exposed plastic on the heel of my falling apart shoes was diving violently into my foot making flats and downhill painful. I was chaffing like crazy making uphills an awkward, painful waddle. I was exhausted making the act of walking itself painful. And I've been drier while swimming. Then the trail went up. And away from the road. I began swearing. A lot. Myself and RT hit an unmarked junction. The obvious answer was to go right, downhill and towards the highway. We went left. After half a mile I looked up, out of the gloom leered a radio tower. Wrong way sucka. I swore. Loudly. "RT, radio tower!" He didn't hear me, but looked up about the same time. He swore. Loudly. We turned around and that's about when my body gave up. I started to get very, very cold. Hypothermic cold. Hands, numb. Face, numb. Legs, numb. Not good.
We hit the road.
Dangerously cold, we weren't even waiting for the other two. They knew where to meet us. Then they appeared. Four wet hikers do not get rides. After about half an hour a kind soul finally stopped for us. We crammed in and she blasted the heat. My right calf cramped hard but I began to warm a little. She knew Pagosa Springs and dropped us off at the hotel we wanted. Even after showers we were shivering. Checking the damage in our packs EVERYTHING was wet. Camping tonight would not have been fun. Waterproof is only so waterproof. Luckily everything water damageable survived, except Kombucha's Ipod, which may need a bit of working. Dan, Anna and Myke appeared with DIY and complained about how hot our room was. At this point I was still shivering on the bed under my damp sleeping bag. Eventually we warmed up, had some food and watched the Food Network for a couple of hours. All was well again.
I thought we'd escaped.
I thought we'd be warm and sunny and dry.
The San Juans always, always win.

What are you talking about, you're always there right?

Day NinetySix, September 21, 21 Miles
At Mile 1925, Poptart 708/1000
Followed the divide back up above treeline. Got out ahead on my own and came across the Elk I'd heard bugling for a while. It was incredible, the obvious, huge, alpha male, two smaller males and two females. Too busy bugling and being all sex-crazed and competitive to notice me about five metres away. Until they did, and just like that, one of the most incredible wildlife encounters of my life was over as they scattered up the hill. Another day of high, treeless divide walking, small ups and downs. Hit a narrow knife ridge which was incredible and still holding yesterday's hail. Kick steps? Just before lunch the trail rose to a gravelly succession of peaks that was a pure joy to hike. I didn't even care about the wind.
Dropping down to between eleven and twelve thousand feet trees were more frequent but many of them dead. Plenty of climbable rock around makin' ma fingers itch. Wind stopped and clouds disappeared in time for camp. Finally finished the butter I got in Target Silverthorne 325 miles ago. Yeah, that's right. It was still fine.

Downhill is the logical way...

Day NinetyFive, September 20, 17 Miles
At Mile 1904, Poptart 698/1000
I knew that whatever decision I made last night would be the wrong one. Tarp or Cowboy. Yeah I made the wrong one. Yeah I set up my tarp. Yeah it stayed dry and above freezing (though barely). Yeah it was tarp-flappingly windy. Like flappingly enough to wake me up. Repeatedly. Dang.
Awoke to clouds forming over our future and none of us were 100%, especially Hawkeye. Down to Weminuche Pass where we investigated alternates, then decided we all had enough food to extend our time in the San Juans another day. Because it would be a good idea to slow down a little and go easy on ourselves. Because the weather had been awesome and the scenery was likewise, and both would remain so, right? Right?
So our goal for the day suddenly became a simple 12 miles away. Crossing Weminushe's wet meadoweyness, featuring a slightly-too-far-to-jump channel of undeterminable deepness, we then headed back up towards our mighty divide. On the way I spotted a log floating upstream, I realised it was a Beaver. Got above trees about the same time the skies opened up with a short, heavy burst of wet rain. Which was a pleasure. Along, down, across and back up. Up to the first in a series of basins that were killing me. These are places I will remain forever happy I was able to experience. Photos, words, stories, not even close. But anyway, we were about to round another lake when a second storm rolled on over, this one brought the fight. Hail. Cowering under tiny pine trees that protected us way more than they ought to have done, we laughed, chatted and looked out at the lightning and rapidly whitening ground. Smile.
I still really enjoy this time of year and this weather, even being out in it. It helps when the rain is brief and the sun dries you out again. You can feel the winter coming, summer is leaving, very quickly, heading south (so am I...). Bare mountains waiting for snow, soon to be bare trees. Yellow, gold, orange and brown.
The storm passed, they always do, and we headed off again. I got thinking on that famous hiker quote, "The worst day on trail is better than the best days at work". Get a new job man. Or hike more, 'cause you clearly ain't not had no truly bad days out here. I do love it, but some days just suck. Not that this day did... wow, I am rambling...
That smile grew bigger as I topped the ridge to meet RT, standing under a tiny patch of blue sky and gazed at all before me. Hail thick on the ground and my beat up, treadless shoes made for a slippery, slushy drop down to Squaw Pass where we found a suitable camp. Being only 4:30, a true gem of rarity for through hikers, RT and I decided to explore the pass and see if we couldn't find a better site before Kombucha and Hawkeye came down. We didn't but it was fun all the same. The skies had cleared but hail still blanketed the ground. Turns out my tyvek is not as waterproof as it once was. A pack of Coyotes just ran yelping and howling across the pass...
Before this section, when I was asked about the San Juans, our big Southbound obstacle, I said I didn't care. If the weather was bad, I'd roadwalk around and not give it a second thought. It's just another range in the divide, how amazing can it be? I still think that, but how amazing can it be? Well.
I don't want to be anywhere else, but you could have been here with me.

When you act out, the rocks come down.

Day NinetyFour, September 19, 26 Miles
At Mile 1887, Poptart 692/1000
Beautiful morning, amazing day. Also, Talk Like A Pirate Day.
Around fortress-like Canby Mountain to the utmost source of the Rio Grande. Super annoying PCT-style switchbacks that I no longer have any tolerance for. Too much cross country has ruined me. Round a corner and we saw:
a) A Unicorn
b) Artax
c) A USFS Mule
d) Shadowfax
???
Interesting canyonish terrain kept me interested, then the trail took us up onto the wide, open plateau divide. There we left the Colorado Trail for the last time as it descended down a valley of magnificence. Lunched on Hunchback Mountain's scraggy summit (13,136ft) with some amazing views all round. The peaks have taken a significantly more pointy and solid tone in these parts, a welcome change from the piles of rubble Colorado has offered thus far. Towards and then around Rio Grande Pyramid and 'The Window', a massive square notch on the ridge line to our camp. To cowboy or not? The tarp won.

And our skills are as follows:-

Day NinetyThree, September 18, 19 Miles
At Mile 1861, Poptart 684/1000
Hung out in the yurt till 10:30. It was hard to leave. This is why you never hike more than 15km a day on a NZ hut-to-hut hike. Got above trees quickly and only saw them far below us after that. Lots of divide walking, tough and slow miles but sure is beautiful up here. Found a superb campsite and waited for the others to catch up in complete silence. That whole 'silence is deafening' thing is for real.
Three months on trail. Yeah.