Silverton to just beyond Spring Creek Pass

June 12, 2022

I came down or of the Northern San Juans to Silverton. Just before dropping steeply into a deep, carved valley, I sat for a last look around on a high tundra ridge. I opened my umbrella to block the wind around my feet, which were getting cold despite the sun. Thinking I was pretty clever, I attached my camera to the umbrella to hold it down against gusts of wind.

Ha!

As I put my shoes on and closed up my backpack, a string gust lifted umbrella and camera high up into the air, and with a cry of alarm I watched them floating away off to the east! First pinning everything down, I started running up and over a rise to hopefully retrieve my precious gear when it came down. It was a fifteen minute journey with heart in throat, lungs pounding, but finally I reached a snowfield where the camera had wrapped around one side of a penitente (a little tower of snow sculpted by the wind) and the umbrella around the other side. Thank God! Otherwise... No more pictures!

After this, I scurried down and hoped to get a ride to town from a hiker at the trailhead. There were none though...I forded the river (damn... Wet shoes and socks again!) And started walking a long road downvalley. Just as I was starting to feel sorry for myself, a truck came up and stopped, with Critter and Shotgun happily inside. I was able to climb into the back with an enormous and highly loveable dog.

And so I came into Silverton. I met Lemonhope again, and the soberly bearded Google... We shared a triple bunk in the Avon hostel after much pizza and beer. I washed clothes and took a shower... Both heavenly operations!

The next night, I had dinner with a great Lithuanian guy with the trail name Leftovers. He got the name back in silver City because he's pretty frugal and won't let food go to waste. I cooked spaghetti with onions, cheese and olive oil in the Avon kitchen, and enjoyed the last of my six pack of IPA beer. We talked about the differences between living in Europe or the USA, about our work and other things. It was nice to use a kitchen... Reminded me of home.

The next day we got a ride back up the mountain to a point about 1600 feet below Stony Pass. We thought we'd be taken all the way to the pass, but oh well, it was a pretty walk in impressive country. We walked a few more miles, coming to the source of the famous Rio Grande River which divides the state of Texas from the country of Mexico. We drank deeply from the water emerging from snow and took some pictures. A little later, we camped just below a little saddle with flat spots slightly protected from the wind.

Leftovers carried up a soda.

the start of the mighty Rio Grande.

Leftovers in high country.

camp for the night.

The next day I set out early, but Leftovers was awake, and we figured we'd meet in Lake City for resupply. This was only two days away...I was enjoying carrying only a little bit of food! However, later in the day we met again, and he said he didn't need to reapply because he had eight days of food in his pack that he didn't know about! This is so different for me...I unpack everything every night, and know every nook and cranny of my gear. Leftovers just doesn't mind carrying a very heavy load, I guess.

I walked on ridges, over snowfields, by frozen lakes, and finally reached the high point of the Colorado trail, which I'll be following for 300 miles. It's at 13,271 feet.

After this point, I walked for hours along a high tundra ridge with views to a distant lake. The snowy, crowded together mountains of the prior days were spacing out and losing their mantles of snow. I enjoyed walking up here in the wind and sun, only paying a fare in the form of long ups and downs that gradually tired me out. I descended to a yurt platform that in some years, holds a yurt to sleep in. I would have loved that, but alas, the yurt wasn't there. I got some water at the last source for a while (the country was getting drier), and decided to walk over one more hill before camping. A few raindrops made me nervous, but a storm didn't arise. Turning to the east, I found a field and set up my tent.

In the night, a coyote made little yelping noises close to my tent.... Kind of a confused sound.

In the morning, I walked up onto a mesa, then down through a forest for about seven miles to reach the highway. I startled two elk in the forest, who gracefully ran off to the north. I visualised getting a hitch to town very quickly, focusing on the emotion of joy and gratitude when getting out of the car, saying thanks and realising I still had time for breakfast.

It seemed to work! A guy in a camper van picked me up... He was the third car! We talked about fishing and his property in New Mexico. The town was a long ways away...I was so grateful!

In town I ate a big breakfast with coffee, and chatted with Fuego and Master Chef, the Czech couple who I got a ride out of the ghost ranch with some weeks ago. Later I saw Info, Gargoyle and others. I intended to spend the night, but with so many hikers leaving town I got a fever to get back to walking myself. I quickly visited the post office, put some things in my bounce box, shipped it on to Leadville, then went shopping for five days of food.

Around noon, I waited in vain for a vaguely promised shuttle to the pass, then texted a trail angel named Michael who offered rides up. He drove up fifteen minutes later, and after an enlightening conversation about the pine beetle and the local forests, we said goodbye at the pass. I would end up hiking about nine miles and camping with Mishap, who showed off her gourmet cooking, and shared her excellent bottle of whiskey for a nightcap! We camped near a beaver pond and watched the beaver work gathering sticks before sleep.

Mishap east of Spring Creek Pass.