Call Me Chaps, Part 2
The next morning we woke, ate breakfast, choked down instant coffee and got back on the trail by around 7:30. The rain had ended for the trip but we didn't know that then, and we were ready to throw on our foulies in a moment's notice.
We came to the end of section 3, tidied up in the Little Scraggy trailhead restroom and continued on to the infamous section 2, where some asshole human started the Buffalo Creek fire in 1996, clearing out 12,000 acres of Pike National Forest. The landscape still looks pretty raped nearly 20 years later, but for lack of forest it does make for nice, unobstructed views of the mountains.
After crossing a forest road, the trail passes by a firehouse that has a water spigot available to all hikers. Linda and I decided to top our water off, even though we we would soon come across the water we stashed when driving up to the starting point two days earlier. I accidentally dropped one of the one-liter plastic bottles I was carrying and it exploded when it hit the ground. I still had another bottle and the two-liter dirty water bag (the pre-filtered water bag) so it wasn't an issue. We caught up with Dick and Anne and made our way through a few miles of landscape like I've never seen--alien, kind of, but trying to be earth-like.
Five miles down the trail and freshly loaded up with the water we had stashed before the hike Dick was clearly hurting. And though he didn't say it outright, he would indicate it by mentioning every time we passed a level area appropriate for pitching tents, "This looks like a nice place to camp for the night." Eventually, at about 2 pm, we did.
We made camp in an area untouched by the fire by an old Jeep trail. I found a wallet or coin purse or something like that next to a tree where I pitched my tent. I looked inside and found a guy's nine year expired driver's license, several stainless steel pipe-like fittings and a cartridge of compressed air. I showed the group and figured he had been either a whippet aficionado, a paintball gunner or a crack head. The guy had about a pound of paraphernalia in there--whatever it was--and since his ID had expired almost a decade earlier I decided not to carry it out and mail it to him once I was back in civilization. Whatever it was I'm pretty sure he had replaced it by now.
After an hour had passed and we had devoured some snacks, Dick led us to a cool granite outcropping called Chair Rocks. We initially thought it would only be a few hundred yards away but a mile later we decided we were a little off on our orienteering. Nevertheless, Chair Rocks was fun to scramble all over and gave up some pretty nice views of distant mountains. Bob Ross would have loved this shit with all the happy little trees everywhere.
We returned to camp, ate dinner, hanged our bear bags and talked about the next day...our last day. Dick said that since his hiking pace was so much slower than ours he would leave an hour or so ahead of us in the morning. That would give us plenty of time to hike the remaining eight or so miles at a fresh pace and catch up back at the car at around the same time. We all agreed to the plan.
Down the trail, toward the east, we heard some boots on the trail gravel. We all looked in the direction of the noise like trained seals. Here came two guys with huge backpacks. They stopped when the got alongside our campsite and we exchanged pleasantries. They said they were doing the Colorado Trail. I asked if it was a bit early in the season and they said they had brought snowshoes for the snow they would surely encounter.
"Rock on, then," I said. "You guys are tougher than me," although the little guy pulling up the rear--24 miles or so into the trail now--looked like he wanted to re-evaluate his thru-hike decision.
They continued on and Dick looked confused.
"You think they'll make it?" I asked.
"No idea," he said. "Maybe. What I'm most concerned with is that I've got an extra Hershey bar, though. I budget three a day and I've only eaten two today but I'm full now."
"Three a day?" I said. "Holy shit! That's a lot of chocolate. Why don't you just not eat the third one?"
"Because then I've got to carry it out."
We went to bed at a pathetic 6:30 pm while the sun blasted through the walls of the tent. It wasn't hot, just bright. I pulled a stinky shirt over my eyes to kill the daylight and fell asleep after only one and half hours of trying.
Note: 10 ounces off water is just right for the Potato-Lentil Stew thing dinner, but if you let it sit too long it gets too thick.
In the morning our mountain was enveloped in a cloud and Dick was gone. Linda woke up next and dropped my food bag off at my front door. I said thanks in a sleepy way and made coffee and enjoyed a two-pack of blueberry Pop Tarts in the vestibule of my tent without ever getting out of my sleeping bag. Even though it was only instant coffee and the Pop Tarts were made in a factory with cancer flour, high-fructose corn syrup and profits, I'm pretty sure it was one of the best breakfasts of my life.
An hour later we were back on the trail. We saw lots of coyote poop on this stretch. Evidently they eat lots of rabbits or marmots or mice or anything furry.
As we descended into the South Platte River Valley the wind really picked up. I almost lost my hat a couple of times to the hills.
We thought for sure that we would catch up with Dick before the end of the hike, but that old bastard really pushed the pedal down, skating downhill faster than we thought he ever could. When we made the end of segment 2 he was was waiting for us at his car all smiles.
"Hey there, slow-pokes," he said. "Was wondering if you were going to make it."
We made the ha-ha noises and then he told us that to get a ride back to the other car we would have to weigh our packs since he just happens to have a portable scale in the boot of his Subaru. Anne went first. Her pack weighed 42 pounds! I don't remember what brand she had. Linda's Gregory Baltoro was 39 pounds. I didn't know anything could weigh as much as those packs. How did they carry all that? Kermit II: The Reckoning weighed in at a light but surprising 19 pounds and even then my left shoulder was feeling some fatigue. I know their packs are made to take loads up to 50 pounds comfortably, but jesus h. christ even if it doesn't hurt your shoulders your legs are surely going to cry from that unholy burden.
With a fair amount of mountain stink we loaded into the car and Dick drove to the water cache where we picked up our empties, then ate lunch in a mountain restaurant on the way to Linda's car at the western of segment 3. There we said goodbye to Linda. Dick, Anne and I drove back to the Park-N-Ride in Conifer where our cars were. We said our goodbyes again, wished each other happy trails and drove off to our little parts of the world.
I know I wanted to be right back on the trail. I imagine all of them did, too.
After an hour had passed and we had devoured some snacks, Dick led us to a cool granite outcropping called Chair Rocks. We initially thought it would only be a few hundred yards away but a mile later we decided we were a little off on our orienteering. Nevertheless, Chair Rocks was fun to scramble all over and gave up some pretty nice views of distant mountains. Bob Ross would have loved this shit with all the happy little trees everywhere.
 | |
| L to R: Anne, Linda and Dick |
Down the trail, toward the east, we heard some boots on the trail gravel. We all looked in the direction of the noise like trained seals. Here came two guys with huge backpacks. They stopped when the got alongside our campsite and we exchanged pleasantries. They said they were doing the Colorado Trail. I asked if it was a bit early in the season and they said they had brought snowshoes for the snow they would surely encounter.
"Rock on, then," I said. "You guys are tougher than me," although the little guy pulling up the rear--24 miles or so into the trail now--looked like he wanted to re-evaluate his thru-hike decision.
They continued on and Dick looked confused.
"You think they'll make it?" I asked.
"No idea," he said. "Maybe. What I'm most concerned with is that I've got an extra Hershey bar, though. I budget three a day and I've only eaten two today but I'm full now."
"Three a day?" I said. "Holy shit! That's a lot of chocolate. Why don't you just not eat the third one?"
"Because then I've got to carry it out."
We went to bed at a pathetic 6:30 pm while the sun blasted through the walls of the tent. It wasn't hot, just bright. I pulled a stinky shirt over my eyes to kill the daylight and fell asleep after only one and half hours of trying.
Note: 10 ounces off water is just right for the Potato-Lentil Stew thing dinner, but if you let it sit too long it gets too thick.
In the morning our mountain was enveloped in a cloud and Dick was gone. Linda woke up next and dropped my food bag off at my front door. I said thanks in a sleepy way and made coffee and enjoyed a two-pack of blueberry Pop Tarts in the vestibule of my tent without ever getting out of my sleeping bag. Even though it was only instant coffee and the Pop Tarts were made in a factory with cancer flour, high-fructose corn syrup and profits, I'm pretty sure it was one of the best breakfasts of my life.
An hour later we were back on the trail. We saw lots of coyote poop on this stretch. Evidently they eat lots of rabbits or marmots or mice or anything furry.
As we descended into the South Platte River Valley the wind really picked up. I almost lost my hat a couple of times to the hills.
We thought for sure that we would catch up with Dick before the end of the hike, but that old bastard really pushed the pedal down, skating downhill faster than we thought he ever could. When we made the end of segment 2 he was was waiting for us at his car all smiles.
"Hey there, slow-pokes," he said. "Was wondering if you were going to make it."
We made the ha-ha noises and then he told us that to get a ride back to the other car we would have to weigh our packs since he just happens to have a portable scale in the boot of his Subaru. Anne went first. Her pack weighed 42 pounds! I don't remember what brand she had. Linda's Gregory Baltoro was 39 pounds. I didn't know anything could weigh as much as those packs. How did they carry all that? Kermit II: The Reckoning weighed in at a light but surprising 19 pounds and even then my left shoulder was feeling some fatigue. I know their packs are made to take loads up to 50 pounds comfortably, but jesus h. christ even if it doesn't hurt your shoulders your legs are surely going to cry from that unholy burden.
With a fair amount of mountain stink we loaded into the car and Dick drove to the water cache where we picked up our empties, then ate lunch in a mountain restaurant on the way to Linda's car at the western of segment 3. There we said goodbye to Linda. Dick, Anne and I drove back to the Park-N-Ride in Conifer where our cars were. We said our goodbyes again, wished each other happy trails and drove off to our little parts of the world.
I know I wanted to be right back on the trail. I imagine all of them did, too.
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