Today is going to be a long day. And water will be sparse. And the temperatures, which have been mild for weeks are going up. Although I saw the high of the day on the forecast was to be 85° it didn’t register with me that I would need to alter may actions. And my back has been hurting, just to the right of my spine, at the bottom edge of my scapula. The confluence of these factors got me in a bit of trouble today.
Last night, as soon as I crested the plateau I searched for a camping spot. The ground was solid rock, sandstone. I found sand drifted behind a juniper and tried to erect my tent, but the sand was only an inch or two deep. My tent stakes would not go in. So I picked up my gear in my arms and wandered a couple hundred feet to where the sand was deeper, found a flat spot nestled between prickly pear cactus and set up, the front stake of my tent imbedded in the middle of a cactus. I had enough water for dinner and the night, but only about two cups by the time morning came. There was a sketchy water source 0.3 miles up the trail which I planned to hit first thing. Here is what FarOut hikers reported:
I was up before sunrise and moving by 6:10am. I kept my eyes glued to the NNW and spotted something white. I headed off the trail towards it and soon found a faint track leading that way. I soon saw Grit’s tent and Leg’s (Aaron) sleeping bag. They had camped very near it.
There was indeed a vertical 18” diameter white pipe sticking out of the ground with about a foot of water in it, dead bugs floating on top.
I filled my Smart Water bottle and moved on. I would purify it later. I now had a liter and a half, enough to get me at least 10 miles and to a reliable water cache that lay just nine miles ahead.
The terrain continued where it left off last night. It was gorgeous. The trail was perched on the edge of mesas or on shelves part way up their steep rocky faces giving a commanding view of the countryside for many tens of miles.
I saw someone in red up ahead, sitting on the edge of the cliff. When I arrived at their position I found Kingo and Peppermint (now shortened to Mint) eating breakfast. I sat with them for 10 minutes and munched a pop tart, then carried on.
A couple hours later I crossed a highway and caught up with Lee and Sue. There was supposed to be a water cache a few hundred feet off the highway. We found it. The best water cache I’ve experienced on the CDT. 50+ gallon jugs of store bought water all chained together so they won’t blow away as they get emptied.
The three of us added to our water stock, knowing the next water was a cattle trough 15.3 miles away and what would be mile 23 for the day for me. I judged my needs based on the morning hike of about 9 miles, not thinking of my increased fatigue or the predicted elevated temperatures. Instead of a liter per five miles, I took only a liter and a half for the 15 miles.
The terrain was spectacular.
The trail clung to the edge of the mesa, but it had to drop down where it’s edge was cut, then climb back up to the top. This happened at least 7 or 8 times over the 15 miles. Not big climbs and descents, but enough to rack up 3500’ of climbing over the day.
With 5 miles left to the water source I was down to about a cup of water. I knew I had underestimated my needs and was going to suffer some serious thirst. That combined with my aching back could have made for a miserable afternoon. But around noon it suddenly occurred to me my back was hurting because I was using trekking poles. I knew using poles aggravated my back. I quit using them in 2018 on the PCT for this very reason. How had I forgotten? I didn’t even bring poles from home on this trip for that reason and only had them shipped to me to use on the Gila for all those river crossings. Somehow I had continued to use them in these weeks after the Gila forgetting the pain they eventually cause. I collapsed them and stowed them in my pack. Of course my back was already aggravated, but ceasing their use brought a measured, immediate relief.
Now it was up and down, just three or four hundred feet with each cut in the mesa. Rock cairns marked the way, often the trail was across solid rock slabs, the cairns the only way to know where the trail was. I allowed myself a rest break every three miles. At one of those I called Sally.
I had looked at transportation to Albuquerque from Cuba, my next town and there was public transportation. I called to tell her I was coming home to go to Yosemite with her and could be there Monday (up on the Mesa I had good service most of the day). While resting, we checked bus schedules and plane tickets. Sally booked a flight for me from Albuquerque to Portland for Monday the 9th at six in the evening, giving me all day Monday to get from Cuba to the airport. We also booked a return flight to Albuquerque for Wednesday, May 25th to get me back on the trail. The two week hiatus will give the snows in the San Juan’s time to melt out , allowing me to continue north through Colorado without having to detour around it once I return. I will lose the group I am in the midst of now, but I have a feeling I will see them along the trail, plus, I’ll get a chance to meet a whole new set of people.
The last 3 miles was tough. I doled out a mouthful of water every half mile or so until I ran out about a half mile away. I dropped down off the mesa edge to a canyon. At the back of it was Jones Canyon Spring.
There I found Lee and Sue and most importantly, lots of water. I used my Sawyer filter and immediately drank half a liter, squiring the water directly into my mouth from the filter. Then I filtered a liter into another bottle, added two packets of Propel and downed the whole liter in two chugs. I squirted another half liter into my mouth and was began to feel better, although now I was water logged. It takes time for water to absorb through the intestinal wall.
I filled 4 1 liter bottles with water and moved into the shade of a large boulder. It was hot in the sun, the cause of my dehydration. I lay on my Tyvek for about 15-20 minutes letting the water make its way into my blood stream and relaxing my back.
Lee and Sue came to join me and together we cooked our dinners. Hornsby had arrived and also joined in.
My watch said I had hiked 24.5 miles, but I was 14 miles from Cuba. I needed to be closer to assure I could make it to the Post Office before they closed at 11:30am, at least 4 miles closer. Lee and Sue were of the same mind. They took off. I rested another half hour, then packed up and set off. The trail was level and down hill for two miles, then slightly up hill for about a mile, then climbed steeply to gain the top of yet another mesa.
My goal was the top of the mesa because from there it was all downhill the 11 miles into town and I wouldn’t have to climb it first thing in the morning.
The sun was very low in the NW sky as I walked directly into it. Thankfully, it set, the coolness of the evening beginning to set in as I approached the steep climb.
The trail wove in between vertical sections of the layers of sedimentary rock, was a vertical scramble in places and seemed to just barely cling to the mesa face.
It was all but dark when I reached the top. The glow on the western horizon was mesmerizing. I laid out my Tyvek, blew up my mattress and crawled into my bag on a slab of rock and watched the stars compete with the moon for attention. No wind. Not cold. Mesmerizing. I fought off sleep for a while just to enjoy the evening. It was worth every thirsty, achy step to get to this moment.
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