Despite my gloomy attitude and the gloomier weather, Ohm and I decided to forge ahead. It did not look like the weather was going to break anytime soon, so instead of sitting still in Salida, we started back toward Monarch pass just as it started to rain. At the top of the pass, while donning my poncho and slowly walking North, I knew I would be okay.
As I worked my way into the mountains north of Salida, the views got bigger and the threats of weather posed logistical challenges every day. While the trail climbed up and over high passes, one eye was always on the horizon, watching as the days storm brewed up bigger and bigger clouds. Passing sounds from plane turbines were constantly analized. “Was that thunder or just a jet?”
If we were lucky, our tents would be set up in the relative protection of treeline as the afternoon rains blew in. If we were unlucky, we’d be running down the pass as fast as possible, while dark clouds and cold winds pushed us off the ridges and soaked us in a sideways rain. As we entered the Collegiate West mountains, the temperature dropped and snow fell in the mountains above us.
After two days and 50 miles I crested Lake Ann Pass (12,585ft) and a dusting of fresh snow crunched under my feet. Ohm and I carefully navigated a steep scree slope to avoid crossing a small cornince. We then descended a few thousand feet into the Clear Creek valley before climbing 2,000 feet in two miles to the summit of Hope Pass. My calves ached and stomach groaned. I hadn’t been taking in enough calories during this steep stretch of trail. Making quick work of a Snickers, a honey bun, a granola bar, and a few handfuls of kettle chips, I was ready for the descent to Twin Lakes.
Twin lakes isn’t much of a town. Just a handful of businesses catering to those passing through. Thankfully, this meant a General Store and a BBQ food truck were waiting to exchange ice cream and enormous burgers for some legal tender. It’s often strange to be a hiker in populous areas. We spread out our gear to dry, hoard public power outlets, air out soggy feet, and consume unreasonable quantities of food.
The rain started just as my gear was finally dry and I huddled under a scrap of shelter to keep from re-soaking my stuff. The plan had been to continue north from Twin Lakes but the last few days of cold rain collided with the current weather and convinced me I needed a roof over my head more than I needed a few more miles north. The sentiment was common and, together with a few other hikers, I decided to sardine myself into a cheap cabin just outside of town.
Tennessee pass, the access point to the town of Leadville, was only a day and a half further up the trail. After leaving our cramped cabin, the morning sun and cold-brewed coffee helped keep my feet moving. Later, as a cold rain crept in overhead, my feet kept moving just to keep me warm. I set up my tarp in the rain. The spot I had chosen was cramped and cambered, and I slept poorly. When the sun finally started to rise, I couldn’t wait to get moving. In part to warm myself up after a cold night and in part to get myself in front of a big plate of breakfast food in Leadville.