It is startling to realize how many people out here on the CDT do not know how to read a topographic map nor use their ice axe. With the advent of the app “FarOut”, map reading is a skill no longer necessary. Navigation has become a video game. Keep the dot representing you on the red line representing the trail and you cannot get lost. And it works really well.
It is infinitely better than map and compass. It gives you uncanny ability to see your position in the field with regards to features on the map and the all important “red line” that represents the trail. For most hikers, their position relative to the trail is all that is necessary. The trail is covered in 5 feet of snow and is invisible? No problem, just pull out your phone and see if the dot representing you is on the red line representing the trail. If it is, great. If not move in the direction that puts the dot on the trail and you are where you are supposed to be. This tool has opened up the trail to countless hikers that otherwise lack the skills necessary to navigate the trails. Just make sure your battery stays charged and you don’t lose your phone.
But what about all the other information contained on that topographic map that the dot and redline occupy, especially contour lines? From these you can see ridges, valleys, north slopes and south slopes, how steep the terrain is, where rivers run and in what direction, peaks, and countless other nuances of the terrain. My experience so far when talking with other CDT hikers about the land we are walking through is they cannot see these features on their maps on their phone because they don’t know how to read a map. Follow the red line and all will be fine. We even have a name for it, “red lining”. Alternate routes on the CDT are other colors on the FarOut app. You might be “blue lining” or “green lining” if you take one of the alternate routes.
There is still a lot of snow over the trail, but predictably heaviest on north slopes and east slopes where the sun either never shines directly or only in the morning when the air is still cool and melting is slow to occur. When I look at the topographic map on “FarOut” I see these slopes and can predict with great accuracy where we will encounter snow. I can see gulleys where the snow will collect and hide from the sun. I can see how steep the slopes are and assess how difficult the snow gully crossings will be. However, when I try to discuss these features with my fellow travelers or with hikers wondering what the route ahead will be like I see confusion and no comprehension in their eyes. To me, these are basic navigation skills that enhance your safety and bring understanding to the terrain. Yet, most of the hikers I have met do not have these skills, even those who have completed the PCT and AT and are now doing the CDT, going for their triple crown. Can’t read a map. Just keep the dot representing me on the red line representing the trail.
The same is true for ice axe arrest techniques, truly a life saving skill. I have spent many hours the last four days teaching my fellow hikers the basics of how to hold your axe when carrying it, how to arrest your fall with it and how to glissade using it to control your speed. To come into these mountains with these snowy conditions and not have sought training and practice seems foolish. And yet, here they are in droves. And doing fine. The app is bomb proof for navigating and so far no one has taken a serious fall on the snow slopes - yet. In this first 67 mile section of the Colorado Rockies most have realized they are ill equipped and are not going to do the next 114 mile section. Rather, they will get rides up to Wyoming and hike the lower elevation snow free sections and return to Colorado later in the summer when the snows are gone.
I woke to a nice sunrise this morning, the clouds adding color and texture to the morning sky, although I would prefer a cloudless sky. Neeko and I had arranged to start hiking at 6:30am, and he was ready to go right on time. The trail traversed on the steep north slope of this u-shaped valley, heading up to its upper end where it contoured around to the south facing other side of the valley and climbed up over the ridge. Rather than trying to traverse snow frozen solid during the night, we dropped into the valley, crossed the river at its bottom and climbed up until we hit the trail. This all occurred between 11,400’ and 12,200’. Tree line is about 11,600’, so we transitioned from forests (mostly dead trees) to alpine meadows. Once on top, we traversed beautiful open tundra like landscapes until we came to the next valley which the trail descended in a manner similar to our starting valley. Each time our ascent was on a snow free south facing slope. Our descents were always on north facing snow choked slopes. We repeated this three times today in the space of ten miles. The most difficult was our last.
Comments on FarOut placed by hikers before us suggested that traversing the trail on the south side of the valley (thus facing north) was difficult and it was best to drop into the valley and hike up its flat bottom which was gentle sloping and snow free. Enigma, Neeko and I took this to mean don’t bother traversing at all and just descend straight off the ridge. This proved to be a bad move. The side of the valley was very steep and composed of a mixture of water soaked dirt, solid rock, scree and snow. I descended about 150 vertical feet and concluded I was nuts to be on this slope. Above me Enigma and Neeko were trying to descend in flimsy trail shoes. The wind was a steady 20 mph with gusts to 40. In between gusts I yelled up to them to return to the top of the ridge and start traversing on the trail in search of a gentler slope to the bottom. I timed my shouts by observing their clothing. If it was flapping in the wind I knew they would never hear me. When I saw their clothing relax I yelled for all I was worth. They got the message and began their tricky and delicate climb back up the 75’ they had descended. At this point I was committed. It was 800 vertical feet from ridge line to valley floor and I had descended 300 of it. I left the crumbly rock and dirt and kicked steps into the adjacent snow. It was a good 50°. I down climbed by facing into the slope, kicking secure steps while having the entire shaft of my ice axe firmly imbedded in the snow. Move axe. Kick steps. Move axe. Kick steps. In this manner I descended to the valley floor. I just hoped they had safely made it to the top of the ridge and were finding an alternate route down.
The wind in the bottom of this treeless valley was far worse than up on the ridge. Gusts in excess of 60 mph knocked me around repeatedly as I attempted to find a vantage point to locate them on the ridge and track their descent so we could meet up again. I hunkered down behind a small clump of alpine firs and watched for their movements. After about 15 anxious minutes I saw two small figures traversing a line across the face of the valley wall that was the trail. As they moved down the trail (up the valley) I shadowed their movements below, planning to reunite with them when they found a suitable place to descend.
More than an hour passed before they reached the valley floor. They reported an easy descent, about half a mile up the valley from my descent. We crossed the river in the valley bottom on a snow bridge, hid behind trees to eat our lunch and decided to hike up the valley in search of a sheltered place to camp.
Even though we only had ten miles in, the trail climbed out of the valley and on to the ridges above. If the wind was this violent in the valley, who knew what it was on the ridges. It was about eight miles of hiking once on top, farther than we wanted to attempt this late in the day. We found places to camp in the valley and enjoyed an afternoon off, drying socks and shoes, charging electronics with my solar panels, eating and writing. Because of our short distance for the day, hikers a day behind us caught up. Soon there were about 15 to 20 of us camped, waiting for morning and calmer winds, or at least an early enough start on the day to not have to camp well above tree line. This was an exciting and challenging day. Much more interesting than just trail walking.
Sunrise from my tent
Neeko in the valley floor
Easier to cross country across the valley than follow the snow choked trail
Beautiful morning
Streams frozen overnight
Much of the trail looked like this
My descent on the left and Neeko and Enigma up on the ridge looking for an easier descent.
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