The Great Colorado Loop Continues

Glenn had been six days on the trail when I met up with him on Saturday morning at Kenosha Pass; he said he smelled funky, but since I don’t have a sense of smell, I couldn’t tell. The main point of my driving out there was to drop off Glenn’s snowshoes, heavier hiking boots, and gaiters; apparently Georgia Pass is pretty messy with snow right now. We hiked six miles to Jefferson Creek, where we stripped down to wade (OMG cold) and then set up camp; it is just before the climb to Georgia Pass begins, so it was pretty flat and easygoing terrain. The Colorado Trail is very busy, full of horseback riders and mountain bikers. Glenn told me a useful tip about sharing the trail with mountain bikers: when you let them pass you, you should always stand on the lower side of the path, because mountain bikers are easily spooked by large packs and they might rear or bolt. Or maybe he was talking about horses, I don’t remember which.

At our little campsite, we started a campfire so Glenn could take a hiker-bath, which consists of standing in the smoke of a fire until it covers up the stench of body odor and sweat that comes from hiking for days without washing. I also appreciated the mosquito-deterrent; I’ve never camped anywhere really buggy, and even with a generous dousing of Deet and smoke on my body, I’m covered in bites.

I gave Glenn my freeze-dried beef stroganoff because I’m such a nice person. I finally cooked the little oxygen absorber packet in my meal.

Looking up at the sky from our sleeping mats.

This should be my last involvement in the Great Colorado Loop for some time now, so my weekends are my own again. Anyone interested should follow Glenn’s journal on his website, or check out his stuff on Trailjournals.com.

Sidenote: I’ve noticed a change in my hiking style: I used to be about food when I hiked - I was hungry constantly and I’d have to bring a goodly amount of candy bars and snacks to make it through one; however, lately, I only need minimal food but I’m finding myself slurping down water like a drowning person. Not that I don’t enjoy the snacks still, but I feel more refreshed and energized by drinking water than I do by eating.

The Great Colorado Loop Officially Begins

Saw the man off on the Colorado Trail today from the alternate trailhead at Indian Creek; I walked with him about three miles before we parted ways, at which point he returned once again to Lenny’s Rest, where we’d hiked in January, and I walked back to his truck. Not exactly a good day, but I did make unusually good time back to the truck - three gently-uphill miles in about fifty minutes - and Glenn’s truck has a pretty decent sound system.

I’m Glenn’s thru-hiking sentinel of sorts; I am tasked with periodically sending out boxes of supplies, called “maildrops” in thru-hiking lingo, to strategically-chosen locations; the first goes out to the Fireside Inn in Breckenridge, which Glenn will be reaching in approximately ten days. We’re also scheduled to meet next Saturday afternoon for a campout at Kenosha Pass, when I will be bringing his snowshoes and an alternate pair of boots.

The Great Colorado Loop

Glenn’s opus, an amalgam of the Colorado trail and a knot of lesser trails heading back north which he has deemed “The Great Colorado Loop,” has unofficially begun.

Waterton Canyon, the traditional starting point for the CT, will be closed for most of the rest of the year for some sort of construction, so Glenn wanted to get that segment out of the way while he still had a chance, and I tagged along because I wanted to see if I could hike 16 miles. Turns out I could, quite easily, and I wasn’t even sore the next day. Great success! Not so much for Glenn - he hurt his foot and had to crawl around on kneepads for a few days. (I offered to get him crutches, but he informed me that “the time for crutches has passed.” I guess the time for crawling around like an animal was still nigh.) The importance of having good shoes for hiking has been further ingrained in my brain.

The top is called Lenny’s Rest; it was the Eagle Scout project of an eighteen-year-old who was killed in a mountaineering accident before he got to finish it. The rest of his troop finished the project for him in his name. Quite a nice story.

Also deeply ingrained in my brain is the vast rift between being physically capable of walking sixteen miles and being mentally capable of the same. Before we’d finished the first eight miles, I had finished the candy bar I had brought for myself and the candy bar Glenn had brought for himself, and I was fading fast. Luckily Glenn had some crackers to feed me as I followed him huffily up the last mile. I don’t know if I’m cut out for thru-hiking.