Another Day 1

At 5pm on May 6th, Jeffrey, of the Hachita Bike Ranch, dropped me off at the Southern Terminus of the CDT. It’s a place called Crazy Cook because of a murder that took place on the US border with Mexico many years ago. Like most of my favorite adventures, the start of this collosal undertaking lacked any sort of pagentry. Just me and Jeffrey and angry hive of bees nesting in a nearby shade structure. He snapped a few photos, I thanked him for the lift, and I started walking North.

It is difficult to describe the breadth of emotions I felt walking up to an obelisk-shaped chunk of concrete in the New Mexican desert. A lot has happened since my last long walk and I spent my first hours on trail running through the last nine years like a slideshow in my brain. Had someone been recording, they would have seen a hiker laughing one moment and tearing up the next. I am incredibly lucky to have the time, money, and body to attempt another long trail and I wouldn’t be here without the support of my family and friends.

My goal of making it to the first water source, about 14 miles north, and a late start meant I’d be spending some hours in the dark. A comet waltzed across the sky while a rattlesnake waved hello with its tail. The myriad silver eyes of wolf spiders, illuminated by the glow of my headlamp, reflected back at me like tiny shards of a recently broken Discoball on the desert floor.

The first days miles were a mix of two-track and arroyos. When I made camp for the night, crawling into my sleeping bag felt mighty fine. I fell asleep quickly, aided in part by a cold Coors Jeffrey had stashed for me. It feels good to be back on trail. It feels like home.

Warm-up on the Pacific Crest Trail

The year is 2012, I have just thru-hiked from Mexico to Canada on the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT), and I’ve just arrived in Minneapolis via Amtrak. Old friends and future roommates Nikki & Sabastian Desotelle pick me up from the station and bring me back to their home for a few days of story-swapping, beer brewing, and backyard kiddie-pool relaxing before the slow trudge back to post-adventure ‘reality’. The seeds of their own thru-hike are planted during this visit and over the next 9 years the idea blooms slowly into reality.

The onset of the covid-19 pandemic in 2020 set off an unexpected chain of events. The Desotelle’s PCT thru-hike is postponed and I am indefinitely furloughed from my job as a sales rep in the outdoor industry. The pleasant aspects of unemployment quickly wear off, and I am left feeling like an uninterested spectator to the life I am living. Each day’s struggle to beat back the onslaught of monotony ends in defeat. I struggle to find purpose and feel the urge to bury myself in a project. A plan to retake control of my trajectory begins to form. It’s time to hike the Continental Divide Trail (CDT) and cross backpacking’s Triple Crown off my bucket list.

Fast forward to April of 2021 when Nikki and Sabastian have made their way to the southern terminus and begun the 2,600 mile journey North. I’ve spent the last few months running/backpacking/mountain biking out of my newly converted van and am preparing to start the CDT in May. I can’t think of a better way to get my hiking legs under me than to meet up with friends to enjoy some miles on the PCT in Southern California.

I catch up to the duo just west of Palm Springs California and over the course of a week, we climb to the top Mt. San Jacinto and descend to the desert. We take a day off in Idylwild, endure temperatures that swing from freezing to roasting in the same day, and meander north on snow and dirt and sand. We have conversations in the way only good friends can. There are lots of deep belly laughs, a few tears, time spent in the past, present and future, and a good deal of silent understanding. I feel a bit like a mother hen looking after freshly hatched chicks and try to share what hiking wisdom I’ve picked up during my long walks. When the time comes for them to head North without me, I can’t help but feel proud of my friends for all they have overcome. Their strength, persistence, and partnership are worth celebrating and I can’t wait to sit with my feet in a kiddie pool and toast to their journey.

In a few days and with a little luck, I’ll find myself at the CDT’s southern terminus. The Crazy Cook monument on New Mexico’s border with Mexico is where I’ll begin my 4 month, ~2,800 mile jaunt north to Canada. Almost a decade since my thru-hike of the PCT, I am looking forward to the challenge.

My sincerest thanks to everyone who has encouraged, supported, and pushed me over the last year. I would not be here without your phone calls, texts, and words of encouragement. Call me so I can return the favor. I won’t always have cell service, but I promise to return phone calls in the order they are received.

North Again

The wheels are up on my flight from Chicago, Illinois to Palm Springs, California and the first leg of my summer of adventure is under way. I’m calm, likely too calm, and exceedingly ready to reaquaint myself with the rhythm of thru-hiking. In 3 hours and 50 minutes when I land in California, I’ll be meeting fellow mid-westerners, dear friends, and former roommates Nikki and Sabastian for a week of hiking on the 2,600 mile Pacific Crest Trail.

After of week or so of comraderie in the SoCal desert, I’ll make my way to New Mexico and begin my own walk from border to border on the Continental Divide Trail. The ~2,800 mile trail from Mexico to Canada should take me 4-5 months to complete. Barring (or perhaps on spite of) bears, blisters, back aches, and bad weather I aim to reach the northern terminus in mid-September, preferably before the first snow falls in Glacier. 

"It's a dangerous business, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to." - B. Baggins, LOTR