After taking two weeks off, I finally flew back into Denver and made the long way back to the trail. As I drove, I took mental notes of how much snow was still on the mountains. Hoping it had melted enough to get through without mountaineering gear. I drove back to Pagosa Springs and met up with another hiker who I had hiked around for most of the PCT. We also grouped up with a former triple crowned who wanted to join us for the San Juans. We ran our errands and, of course, as we were done with the last thing, the sky above the pass turned dark and gray. We debated on going up anyways but decided the best thing to do would be to stay in town at a trail angels house for the night. They bought us lunch, cooked us dinner, and I got to spend the night on a water bed. The next morning we woke up early to get some miles in before the inevitable thunderstorm would roll in. We hiked out of the pass, huffing and puffing, straight uphill with heavy packs but finally enjoying some hiker company. Luckily, the snow was almost non existent. We joked about how happy we were to have taken some time off. The scenery was absolutely incredible but our bodies were having a tough time reacclimating to the trail. My head hurt and it was hard to breath as we kept ascending to higher and higher elevations. Every so often a wave of nausea would stop me in my tracks and I'd double over, sure I was going to puke. Going from sea level to 12,000ft in a day and a half was not agreeing with me. After the first episode, we decided to stop for a bit to have lunch at a gorgeous alpine lake nestled into the start of a huge river valley. We climbed some more as it started to rain off and on. One minute it was sunny, and then the next, the sky was shooting down little bits of hail that felt like rocks pelting your skin. We took another break on a sunny rock before our big climb of the day. We realized we only had a few miles before we were planning to camp, and took the opportunity to lounge a little longer. We packed up and started the climb just as the first bout out thunder clapped behind us. The three of us looked at each other and decided to go for it anyway. We were so close to the top and knew we could get down on the other side. We started moving faster and not talking. My fingers began to tingle and I worried that we had made a mistake. We summited the ridge and started to take some pictures of the expansive view as another clap of thunder sounded. Remembering what was going on, we threw our cameras in bags an began to jog down the ridge.
Steep scree slopes made it difficult to keep running without twisting an ankle. We saw our first bullet of lightning and counted the seconds until the crash came. It was close. We looked forward at the trail and realized we had another exposed hump to go over before our decent. I got to the top and couldn't help but pull my camera out as the others dissapeared over the hill. I got a few shots before the loudest clap of thunder hit just behind me. I ran down to the others and we made quick work to get down further. Finally in a safer area and figuring out the thunder was moving away, we slowed down and chatted as we descended. A small Pika ran down the trail ahead of us and it seemed like the danger was finally over. We got down to a pass and found a nice flat spot, after a porcupine claimed our first one. As we set up camp for the night, it began to sprinkle. Thinking there's no way it would last long, we were leisurely about getting into our shelters. In an instant, the sky opened up and poured for two hours, soaking everything and flooding the ground around our tents. The thunder boomed again roughly four miles away. I was so happy to be off the ridge, in my tent, eating dinner. It rained off and on all night, ensuring nothing would dry. We woke up to it still raining and stayed in our tents until it seemed to have let up. The usual morning sun was nowhere to be found and clouds hung low in the valleys. We took our time packing up all of our wet gear and hit the trail. It began to sprinkle again almost immediately and soon turned into heavy rain. Before we knew it, we were all soaked to the bone, trying to move fast to stay warm. My fingers were wet and began to lose feeling. I could no longer move them the way I needed to. We had now been hiking in the cold rain for two hours and there was no end in sight. In every direction the mountains were masked by clouds. I began to look for places to set up my tent even though it was only 10:30am. Just as I was about to call it quits for the day, I looked down and saw my shadow. Spinning around, I could see the sun trying to peak through and the rain petered out. The sun got stronger and we took a break to try to dry all of our wet gear. It was nice to have one moment of the day where things were dry.
We started moving again once the sun went away and it got colder. I pushed out ahead of the group but knew they'd catch me soon. I got to a spot where the trail dissapeared and checked the maps to see where we were headed. I heard the others behind me and knew I'd see them soon. I figured out we were a bit off trail and needed to ascend a bit back to the divide. When I turned around to tell the others, they were still quite a distance away and heading downhill. I tried to get their attention but they disappeared behind the trees and never responded to my call. Alone, I kept moving along the trail, hoping they'd figure it out and make it back. I waited for a while then kept moving to stay warm. I took one more break but they were nowhere to be seen. I thought about how I would have to take on the San juans alone and how we had been joking that morning about how easy it is to get separated. Luckily, a couple hours later, they came bounding down the trail after me, just as it began to rain. The three of us moved fast together but the rain and wind only got worse. We were soaked through again and it was getting colder. We were on an exposed ridge, crossing back and forth over snow banks as the rain wiped us sideways. We hid in some trees to check the maps and make a game plan. It would be two more miles until we could get down off the ridge so we put our heads down and went back out in the storm. At one point, the wind picked up and stole all of my breathe and sent a wave of panic through me. I started to run down the ridge. After ten steps I felt a pop in my knee and a shooting pain. I slowed back to a walk and stumbled, knowing I couldn't stop. I would get too cold. It took much longer than expected and I could no longer move my hands from their clasped position around my trekking pole. We got down to some trees and struggled to set up shelters before they got too wet on the inside. I climbed in my tent and immediately stripped off my wet clothes. I tried to light my stove but my fingers couldn't ignite the lighter. I tried everything to warm up my hands and finally got some hot water going. I put on dry clothes and tried to dry out the inside of my tent. I didn't feel warm again until I slid into my slightly damp sleeping bag and threw in the hot water bottle.
The rain didn't let up for hours, until after the sun went down, and I was so glad we had stopped when we did. The former triple-crowner, Chimichanga, said he never remembered the weather being so bad when he hiked. It felt like we were truly embracing the brutality of this trail. The fog hung around until the morning and everything was still wet. We packed our soaked gear slowly and just as we were finishing up, a small glimmer of the sun poked through the fog. Suddenly the valley cleared and we were able to dry a couple things before getting moving. I had forgotten about the pop in my knee until I started moving that morning. I stopped to take some advice before stumbling down to my friends. The sun went away quickly but it hadn't started raining so we felt lucky. We traversed an area called the Knife edge that still had some snow crossings. They were very steep with a long rocky drop off but we all made it across without trouble. After a while, where we thought the weather might hold out, it began to sprinkle. Worrying that it would be like the day before, we looked at our maps and planned a route to get to lower elevation and cut back to the CDT when the weather got better. We saw a tent just before leaving the trail and recognized some friends we had met along the PCT. They had stayed in their shelter all morning and had only made it six miles the day before in the terrible storm. They were waiting it out and I envied them, warm and dry in their tent. I wasn't sure about the alternate and thought maybe their idea was better. The group shot me down so we kept moving down our alternate route. After crossing a river, we saw a large moose in the trees. For some reason I saw it as a good sign, and was happy we had gone down this way. When it wasn't raining, the bushes were soaking our clothes and the trail was a marshy bog. After a few miles on the alternate, the sun came out and we took the opportunity to dry out everything. Our packs exploded across the rocks, as if we were having a yard sale, and we basked in the suns warmth. As we hung out there, chatting and eating, a large dark cloud hovering over a wall of white was traveling up the valley. We frantically threw our gear in our packs and headed into the wall. It poured off and on as we made our way down the river. My knee was killing me as I tried to start hiking again. We were drenched with no hope of being dry again. Down and down we went as the night got colder. We spotted another moose, this time with a tiny baby, drinking out of a nearby stream and the rain stopped for a bit. Finally we made it down to a campground where we rushed to a pavilion and started stripping off our wet clothes. After warming up and drying off, we set up camp under the overhang and started to make dinner. The sun came out one more time that night before dropping behind the mountains. We prayed for a better day tomorrow, not knowing if we could handle a third day of being wet.
I woke up to bright light filling my tent and was pleased to find blue skies when I peeked out. We packed up slowly and left the shelter that had saved us the night before. We started heading back to the CDT and had a long day of walking on ATV roads being passed by all the people on holiday for the 4th. My knee was getting more and more painful so I was taking ibuprofen around the clock. We hoped desperately that someone would offer us some food. We turned on to a trail and climbed up to a pass that connected us back to the CDT. Descending from the pass, my knee was making me nauseous. I couldn't wait to get to camp. We found a flat spot and started setting up as a huge wave of nausea hit me and I ran away from the others to throw up. I couldn't bend my knee anymore from the swelling. I took more pain mess and fell asleep, hoping I would wake up without pain. We woke up to a sunny morning and got moving early. I remember remarking how there wasn't a cloud in the sky. We climbed up to 13,000ft before breakfast and had a wonderfully dry morning. We were trying to make it into town for the fourth of July so we took little breaks and tried to move fast. My body felt like I had been beaten up but the promise of a hot shower and warm food kept me going. Just a couple hours out of town, a dark cloud swept over us and pelted marble sized hail down at us. It felt like being shot with a bee bee gun with no protection. We started to descend and the hail got smaller and wetter, drenching us in an instant. Then the wind came and froze our hand and faces. The hail turned into straight rain soon and we found ourselves slipping and sliding in the mud pit that was now the trail. We were trying to move fast to stay warm but the mud had other ideas. I was so frustrated and in so much pain, tears began to stream down my face. I fell, covering both legs and an arm in dense mud. I couldn't stop to clean up without freezing to death so we kept moving, hoping someone would give us a ride even though we were covered in mud and soaking wet. We got down to the road and I sprinted into the bathroom to change into dry layers and clean myself up a bit. No one was picking us up to get into town and we were freezing on the side of the road. Finally someone from the parking lot offered to drive us in. We got hot showers, warm food, and the most well deserved beer I've ever had. Mile marker 1000
