CDT - Day 55 - Leaving Salida
Waking up in a trail town knowing I'm about to head back onto the trail usually comes with mixed emotions. There have been trail towns—Creede, for example—that I didn't want to leave. I remember lying in bed on the morning I was supposed to hike out, asking myself, "Why am I doing this?" and even contemplating just going home... wherever that is. This time was a little different. As much as I enjoyed Salida and my zero day, I was genuinely happy to be heading back into the mountains. I think part of that was the insanity of the FIBArk Festival. With thousands of people packed into town, I felt a little overwhelmed. I was ready to trade the crowds for the solitude of the forest. I woke up feeling fully rested, with breakfast on my mind. I walked about eight minutes to Romeo's Café, which opened at 7:00 a.m., and ordered scrambled eggs, sausage, hash browns, and pancakes. It was one of my favorite pre-trail breakfasts so far. It gave me all the energy I needed... although I probably could have eaten even more. I had texted Shine On the night before, and she agreed to pick me up at 9:00 a.m. and shuttle me back to Monarch Pass. On the way out of town, we stopped at Walmart so I could buy a new rain jacket. Somehow, I had managed to lose mine over the past few weeks. With rain in the forecast later in the week, replacing it was definitely a priority.
When I arrived at Monarch Pass, I was surprised to run into Jammin, who had just come off the trail and was hitching into town. We spent a few minutes catching up before I walked down the highway and rejoined the CDT. I immediately started hiking in the wrong direction and had to backtrack a few hundred yards. Not exactly the start I had envisioned. For the next several miles, I climbed up to a beautiful ridgeline and followed it for quite a while. As incredible as the views were, the wind was absolutely relentless. I'd estimate it was blowing 50 to 60 mph almost constantly. I watched a few day hikers give up and turn around because they could barely stay on their feet. It wasn't until I dropped back into the forest that the wind finally eased up.
I didn't make it quite as far as I had hoped today. My goal was to reach Hancock Lake, where there were likely several good campsites, but after 15 miles it was already 6:00 p.m., and I was ready to call it a day. It took a while to find a decent campsite, but I eventually found one that required a bit of bushwhacking to reach. Hopefully I didn't wander through too much poison ivy in the process. I've been hiking in shorts lately because it's been so warm, and my legs are getting scratched up pretty badly.
While I was setting up camp, a southbound hiker stopped to say hello and warned me about a bull moose about 30 minutes farther up the trail, near Hancock Lake—the very place I had planned to camp. He said the moose had no intention of moving, so I guess stopping early worked out in my favor.
Tonight's campsite is surrounded by both living and dead trees, but thankfully the wind appears to be dying down, just like it has every evening lately. Sleeping near these dead trees has started to get into my head. Sometimes I have vivid nightmares about them falling on my tent, and they wake me up in a panic. I'm sure the melatonin has something to do with the incredibly realistic dreams.