There are numerous thru hiking trails in the United States. The three most well known are the Appalachian Trail, the Pacific Crest Trail and the Continental Divide Trail. Each trail takes on average 5-6 months to complete, covering 2,000 to 3,000 miles through National Parks, National Forests and some of the countries most incredible landscapes.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Sunday
May 23, 2010
Camp
21 and 22: Days Inn, Grants New
Mexico
We're
relaxing here in Grants, taking a zero day so our feet can heal. After the lava field and road walk from hell,
yesterday, our feet are aching. I have
three blisters that are not healing as we walk 20 miles a day. It will be nice
to take a break. Today we're
resupplying, calling family and plan to be back on the trail in the
morning. Oh, Eric found an arrowhead a
couple days ago! Awesome!
Monday
May 24, 2010
Camp
23: near Mt. Taylor
We
are sleeping at 9,000 feet tonight and it's supposed to be record lows! We're actually on a real trail and not a
road...exciting! The trail is funny and
frustrating; it comes and goes so we have to search often for cairns or CDT markers
in the trees. We had a good day, went to
the Post Office this morning and got back on the trail at 12:30pm. Eric found another arrowhead today that was
made from obsidian and I found a piece of one!
sunflower
hi:
found a piece of an arrowhead
lo:
I screwed up baking cinnamon rolls this morning
little
g
hi:
waking up with sunflower after a good nights sleep
lo:
CDT went by a prison and a landfill on the way out of town
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Friday
May 21, 2010
Camp
20: in a canyon, heading towards Bonita Canyon
It
feels great to lay down. We hiked through El Malpais today. At first it was awesome to be hiking through
an old lava flow, but the mood quickly changed as the black rocks soaked up the
heat from the sun at 2pm and the trail was brutal on the feet. There is a lot of history in the area. The Acoma-Zuni trail we hiked today had
cairns that had been there, marking the trail for the two tribes of Pueblo, for
700 years! After a long walk through the lava we got to a parking area by the
road. I tried to yogi some water from a
man that pulled into the lot, trying to quickly tuck his shirt in and zip his
pants...more than a bit odd. Unfortunately, he looked at me like I was the
strange one and rolled the window up in my face. Not knowing where the next water source on
the trail was, we hitched a ride with a guy in a pick-up truck down the road to
a Forest Service office. The building
was closed but there was a hose outside with running water. The water tasted like the hose, rubbery and
disgusting, so we unhooked the hose and got water directly from the
faucet. After a candy bar break we
walked across the road and through a gate hoping the forest service road would
hook us back up with the trail. The
roads are a maze out here but we always seem to work things out. We are in a side canyon right now that leads
to Bonita Canyon and eventually into Grants for resupply. We saw a huge heard of elk tonight as we were
winding down the day. My feet ache and
I'm nursing three blisters right now
There are actually blisters underneath blisters which is really hard to
treat. Anyways, time for dinner and
sleep.
“Remember
to take everything in moderation, including moderation.”
Friday, March 16, 2012
Thursday
May 20, 2010
Camp
19: Sand Canyon
We're
finally finished hiking for the day. It
has been a good one, but long. This
morning we started with a road walk which turned into dirt leading into
Armijo Canyon. We are in cattle country
so our water sources leave a lot to be desired. This morning we walked over to a large tank,
hoping for a pipe with some cold, delicious spring water. Instead we found the tank surrounded by mud
and cow manure with a small seep. It
smelled of decay and manure, rancid and disgusting. Eric dug out his bandana to filter out some
of the excrement and chunks and we worked to filter a couple liters as the cows
watched from afar. We masked the first
liter with kool-aid as we were a bit dehydrated and hoped for better water at
the next source. The trail was long and
hot, we could see for miles and miles with what looked like nothing before
us. We explored Pueblo ruins dating back
to 1200 a.d. We found shards of pottery
and various structures that were still halfway standing. What an incredible piece of history. The downside, there were signs everywhere
that threatened a fine and imprisonment if you removed the pottery but
meanwhile the area is open to free range cattle who trample the sacred ground. We proceeded down the hot, dry, dusty canyon,
past a dead bloated cow with her feet in the air, hoping to find water. We detoured to Armijo Spring only to find it
completely dry. We did stumble upon an old stone house built into the hillside. We explored for a bit, finding a religious shrine inside. It was quite interesting, really. We hiked off trail up the side canyon past
the spring, over the ridge and back down the other side where we connected with
the CDT. By the time we go back to the
trail it was 6:30pm and we still had 4.5 miles to hike to the next possible
water at a windmill. We picked up the
pace as the sun disappeared behind the cliffs and we found some nasty looking
water in a cattle trough. It was getting
dark and we really didn't have any other option as we needed water to drink and
to cook. So we filtered, better than
nothing, right? We found a rather lumpy
camping spot in the middle of cow pasture.
It smells of cow manure but it's beautiful nonetheless as the colors
develop in the sky.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Daily Pie Cafe
Wednesday
May 19, 2010
Camp
18: yet another pasture, signed No Trespassing, Private Property
We
walk into the Daily Pie Cafe and the bell on the door jingles. Heads turn and nod to greet us as we take a
seat by the window. Old glass bottles
line the sill along with a postage stamp keepsake giving an overview of the
Sante Fe Trail, an old blue speckled cup and a tiny glass bottle with a wooden
arrow inside, just the point of it sticking out the top, impossible to
remove. The server brings us coffee and
returns to her chair to finish breakfast. The cook finishes writing the
specials on the chalkboard and recommends the apple fritters with eggs and
bacon. I accept! Eric orders and we sit in silence sipping our
hot fresh coffee. The morning is cool
and windy; we are at 8,000 feet and the actual divide is just up the hill. The sky is deep blue and cloudless and it is
difficult to tell what day of the week it is as locals sit around laughing and
talking at 9:30am. Conversation revolves
around the summer solstice plans and I pipe up saying, “for hikers, that's hike
naked day!” Odd glances result in
laughter from the four men sitting at the table beside us and it will prove to
be an ongoing joke for the remainder of the discussion. An old man in overalls sits quietly by the
window, in the same spot as yesterday.
He listens but does not join conversation and scratches off his lottery
tickets. I smile as it reminds me in
some ways of a scene from Dad's feed store when I was a little girl. Our food arrives, delicious home
cooking. Eric offers a bite of sausage
in exchange for an apple fritter. What
an excellent way to start the day here in Pie Town, New Mexico.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Tuesday
May 18, 2010
Camp
17: Nita's Toaster House
We
are in Pie Town, New Mexico at Nita's Toaster House. A quaint little hiker haven that gets its
name from the abundance of toasters hanging on the picket fence. It has a porch with old car seats and
benches, a fridge full of sodas, beer and pizza and the house is open to hikers
to take showers, do laundry and sleep.
We are loving the unexpected New Mexico trail magic! We've been sitting here talking to Handlebar,
a 65 year old man from Ohio, going for his Triple Crown. He just split his finger open chopping
kindling and is in need of real stitches but refuses. Instead, we got out the first aid kit and did
the best doctoring we could with what little we had. Nita just stopped by to say hello. She no longer lives in the house but is happy
to leave it open to hikers. Her daughter
is a firefighter in Yosemite...I love small world stories! We went to the tiny hole in the wall post
office to pick up our resupply box as there is no grocery store in town. Actually, there's not much of anything in
town! When we first walked in we didn't
see a soul, it felt like an eerie old ghost town. The streets were quiet, the houses run-down,
trash would blow across the road and an extremely obese dog that could barely
bark growled at us from behind a fence.
Too much pie, I'm assuming. I
half expected to see freaky little girls in dresses singing songs like you
might see in a horror film. Anyways,
turns out the town is nothing like what it seemed at first, thankfully! We received several letters and boxes from
friends and family so we took our goodies to the Daily Pie Cafe for some lunch
followed by pie and coffee. We were
greeted again, by some of the nicest people in the world! The cook, and owner I believe, was a friendly man out to help in any way possible.
He let us use the phone to call home as there were no pay phones in town
either. After a long discussion and no
luck finding a home for Wolfie, I had to call the animal rescue shelter that I
despised, to come and pick him up. I was
assured by the locals that it really was a decent place where many people
volunteered and the animals were fed and taken care of. I glanced out the window watching Wolfie
sniff around houses and cars as I made the call. He was partially covered in green cow manure
as he had taken the liberty of herding some cattle on the way into town and
rolled in a fresh cow pattie before we could stop him. It broke my heart to say goodbye. I walked outside and whistled, he immediately
ran to me and the lady from the shelter leashed him and took him away. I walked back inside going straight to the
bathroom to wipe my eyes, knowing it was the right thing to do as we simply
couldn't support a hiker dog. He had
only been with us for a few days, but mind you, a few days on the trail seems
like a lifetime.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Monday
May 17, 2010
Camp
16: private property after the “animal rescue shelter”
Last
night we didn't sleep well in the bitter cold above 9,000 feet. We fed Wolf some tuna and tortillas, he
scarfed it up in an instant. We walked
through dry and dusty terrain, mostly on old roads beneath the power lines. As the day wore on it continued to get hotter
and Wolf had a tough time keeping up. He
would run ahead and quickly dig a hole in shade of trees and bushes. As we hiked past he would follow and then run
ahead and dig another hole. On the map
we saw that there was an animal rescue shelter on the same road we were walking
on! Convinced we had found a solution we
found the place and it had a cooler of water at the end of the driveway for
hikers with a note that said, “Enjoy, but don't linger too long as the dogs
will run down and may try to follow you.” We walked down the lane leading to
the house and were immediately surrounded by about 50 barking, growling
dogs. That wasn't even including the
ones locked in the pen beside us that were following us along the fence line
and going nuts! It was disgusting and
terrifying! Wolf turned around and high
tailed it back toward the road as several dogs chased him. Eric turned around to go retrieve him and not
really knowing what to do, I continued toward the house. A man came out to meet me, seeing that I was
quite intimidated and a woman followed, obviously upset that I was there. It was feeding time apparently and they let
50 some dogs out during feeding time.
Don't ask why, I have no idea,
I'm actually quite frustrated as I sit and write this. Cats sat in the windows and covered the couch
that sat outside on their porch.
Appalled, I explained that we had found a dog and were hoping to drop
him by as we are hiking the CDT and couldn't take him along. The man asked if I thought I could catch him
and I reply that I have no idea as he was scared off by the barking dogs who
chased him back down the driveway. He
gave me a leash and said to go ahead and walk back and he would drive and find
us in 15 minutes and take the dog if we could catch him. I took the leash with no intention whatsoever
of giving these people my dog. Yes, by
now I am quite fond of our little companion and although the man was nice
enough, I was not leaving this cool mellow dog with these people and their 300
animals. I turned and walked back, the
dogs nipping at my heals, throwing out my trekking pole on occasion to ward off
the growling mutts. By the time I got to
Eric and Wolfie I was so mad I could have spit nails! These people should have been on an animal
hoarders show. It was an absolute
nightmare. So here I lay, after dinner,
with a very hungry doggie companion, wondering what we're going to do with him
once we reach Pie Town. Hopefully we'll
find some help.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Sunday
May 16, 2010
Camp
14: Rode Inn; Reserve, New Mexico
Camp
15: Mangas Mountain, with Wolf by our side
We
decided to make a detour because of our food situation into the tiny town of
Reserve. We hiked to Highway 12 at the
intersection of a tiny general store in Apache Creek. After cold sodas and ice cream we stood at the
corner hoping for a quick hitch into Reserve.
Not quite as easy as it sounds! Fifteen minutes would pass between cars
and they weren't slowing down a bit.
Finally, a mini van pulled over, driven by a 16 year old boy named,
Montana. He was home schooled and very
smart, chatty and pleasant. He took us
12 miles into town and we got a room at the Rode Inn. After a pack explosion, showers and laundry
we grabbed some dinner at Carmen's.
First,
a bit about Reserve. You blink and you
miss it. It takes 2 minutes to walk from
one end of town to the other, there are two restaurants that close at 8pm,
three small stores that close at 6pm and one local tavern called Uncle
Bill's Bar. While we were in town
there was some sort of rodeo going on nearby so there were big pick-up trucks
everywhere and everyone wore cowboy boots, hats and belt buckles. So back to the story, we walk into Carmen's
for dinner and a young guy looks up and says, “Have you been to the
beach?” We were dressed in shorts and
flip flops as we don't carry many extra clothes, especially abnormally large
belt buckles and Wranglers. We smiled,
wondering where in the heck a beach would even be in this part of the country
and we took a seat. After a burger and a
burrito we decided to grab a beer at Uncle Bill's. We walked in and every head turned to look at
us. We were obviously a little out of
place but we bellied up to the bar and ordered a couple Budweiser's. The locals immediately started talking to
us...new ears, I guess! They cracked jokes,
filled us in on the history of the area and of Uncle Bill's. The bartender, and owner, was called Toughie
and the bar had been in the family for years.
Shotguns and pistols hung from the ceiling and signed dollar bills were
taped to the walls. The actual bar was
old and beautiful, made of Cherry wood and Toughie brought out antiques to show
us over the course of the evening. These
included and old iron stove, machetes and steel shoes among other things. Toughie was a tall, lanky old timer who loved
to make the ladies laugh. He threw out
jokes every chance he got, which had all of us laughing and shaking our
heads. The man next to me, John, carried
a pill bottle with arrowheads that he found from the nearby Pueblo Ruins. He was quite the historian and had lived in
the area his whole life. They were all
such inviting and nice folks. After a
few beers and a shot of Patron from John, we shook hands, said our goodbyes and
walked across the street to the motel.
Thankfully we were within stumbling distance as the locals were not too
fond of the town sheriff who waited outside the bar to catch people leaving and
getting in their vehicles. The bar had
actually taken quite a hit from this as people simply didn't come in anymore
because of it.
This
morning we resupplied and had lunch at Ella's Cafe. We sat down in a booth and the waitress
talked to us about what we were doing even while she was back in the kitchen or
grabbing drinks or food. Reserve was a
laid back, charming little town where everybody knows everybody. After bandaging up my feet, oh yeah, I have
some nasty blisters right now...fun, fun...we start walking to the edge of town
to get a hitch back up to the trail. In
a matter of minutes, a pick-up rolls up and Toughie yells, “Need a ride?” We hop in and he gives us the grand tour of
the area as we head back to the CDT. He
turns off the highway and starts down a dirt road saying he's going to make us
a few extra miles for the day. Eric and
I exchange a look and partial laugh as Toughie obviously doesn't really get
what thru-hiking is all about, but we're thankful for the lift anyhow! We drive past the first CDT sign that we've
seen so far on the trail and he drops us off a bit farther down the road. We exchange goodbyes, put on our packs and
walk back to the CDT marker for a picture before continuing. A pleasant surprise all around as we headed
back to the trail with full stomachs, a renewed spirit and food in our packs.
Today
we hiked in varying terrain starting out dry and dusty but soon gaining
elevation as we climbed near Mangas Mountain.
We stopped to filter water from a spring and I turned to see something
running toward me. I let out a little
scream as it startled me, knowing we were in the middle of nowhere and for a
split second I thought it was a wolf!
Turns out, it is a Blue Healer.
We figured his owner was around somewhere and thought nothing of
it. We took a break and started walking
up Mangas Mountain as “Wolf” followed us.
At first we ignored him, assuming he would turn around. Thirteen miles and an entire climb up a
mountain he was still with us! We have
no idea what his story is. We know he is
loyal, doesn't bark and is all around a great little dog. As we hike he becomes more alert, friendly
and even playful. We caught a gorgeous
sunset on top of the peak and tried to find a camping spot. After a lot of searching we finally found
something that would work. Eric threw
down the ground cloth and Wolfie immediately curled up on it. We couldn't get him to move until we put down
the black trash bag liner from Eric's pack and were able to get him
switch. We set up the tent, Wolfie
immediately passed out, obviously exhausted.
We have no idea when the last time he slept or ate was. In wolf country he probably hasn't felt too
safe. So here I lay on the side of a
mountain at 9,000 feet with a dog snoozing beside me under the vestibule. We have no idea what we're going to do with
him but at least for tonight he is safe and comfortable. Time for some shut eye for me too.
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