Something was foreboding in the air. It could have been the clouds that were building much quicker than they had the previous days.

Plan Ahead and Prepare. For me, the most important principle of backpacking! It is what you do at home before you go and what you consider is necessary to do the trip right. (Plan Ahead and Prepare is the first principle of Leave No Trace). 136-miles is a lot of miles to hike in seven days but before leaving the house with loaded backpacks we knew several key pieces of information – including trail out alternatives.

But first …

Four cirques greeted the morning walk. Herds of elk stopped to graze and water in the numerous ponds speckled with morning sunrise. Sedges thawed one droplet at a time. With a moment’s stop, it was easy to observe individual leaves lose their fuzzy hairs of frozen ice as the sun stretched and touched with its warmth. The desolation of the scenery did not go unnoticed. The building clouds didn’t either.

An array of ascents and descents passed the first few hours. Rocky buttresses, grassy knolls and bobble headed flowers stuck to steep slopes with the trail barely hinged on the side. Gradients plunging 1,000-feet into the Williams Creek valley could have added anxiety but instead rewarded with a sense of accomplishment for the miles, the experience, the variety of terrain. My final goal for this particular journey lay just ahead – a ridge with full 360-degree views from a high precipice. Sadly, a decision had to be made to forego the scramble up high.

Flexibility. A requirement when backpacking, particularly in high elevations.

Flashes of lightning, booms of thunder, pelts of rain. Standing at the last junction available to make a decision we opted for a turn directly north and began a rapid descent beneath the ridge with its seemingly endless barrage of bolts and anger. Our first chance to re-ascend was not promising. Gathering another review of the map we opted for a continued descent and knew several miles away would be a connector trail that we could ascend back to the ridgeline.

Downed trees. Animal path or foot trail? Waterfalls. Sneezeweed or Nodding Sunflower? Oversized meadows with a rush of autumn colors. Crawl over or crawl under? Creek beds overflowing their banks. Lost trails. Hours pass. Miles few. A junction reached but it is too late.

All great adventures must come to an end. On the fringe of living in the wilderness – where every breath is well earned and each step towards a destination forward – I value that each meal is more delicious than any made at home, that the soreness in the thighs and feet is a reminder of a good day where progression was via footsteps and the red hue to my skin is reflective of the leaves as the season too is changing.

Instead of heading back up to the ridge we had descended earlier in the day we turned left. A route whereby, “in the early season some fording may be possible.” Well, maybe in late season too! 17-fords, some mid-thigh were a surprise. The tightening canyon blotted out the sky. Jagged rocks building one on top of another with a steepness seemingly unclimbable. Sound replaced with the rushing of water as it moved over rounded rocks. Upriver the headwaters began with a drop … which turns to two … then to three. Landscape changing waters magnitude and fierceness can just as easily be shallow and soothing.

Rain falling … skies gloomy … a preposterous way to end a trip. Slogging through streams with boots filling; toes pickled in a whirlpool experience. The beauty momentarily leaks from my senses as I sulk in disappointment and ingratitude. Frustration and anger bind my stomach, steal my spirit.

Our last night’s camp sat at a barely wide spot between two crossings. Hot chocolate allowed for reflection and then adjustment of misplaced negative emotion. Appreciation for the coolness, rising of mist, the gentle roll of droplets falling unknowingly for dozens of feet from the bright green of an aspen leaf.

Reflection of a great trip. A reminder that many don’t often see the beauty we’d been privileged enough to see over the past week – a cow, calf and bull moose; an end to end rainbow; snow fields; intimidating mountains; temperate slopes; transitioning clouds; the call of the wild.

We packed slowly our final morning. Crossed the stream another five times before passing a pond with its ducklings, otters and pink lily pads. Half a mile later and a pasture enveloped in morning fog shared horses standing watch. Nine more miles and we stood at a paved road, thrust out our thumbs and headed home … to the other end of the backyard.

ABOUT US AND OUR ROUTE:

Together, Boone and I have over 30,000-miles of backpacking experience. We made a conscious decision to hike over 20-miles per day to reach our goal for this particular hike. We would not recommend you do the same but instead that you take the time to enjoy the grandeur of the divide. Our route followed the Colorado Trail and Continental Divide Trail beginning at Spring Creek Pass and coincided with the guidebooks related to both trails.

If you would like more specific information pertaining to the planning details of this particular hike please contact Stacy at info@stepoutdoorscolorado.com.