GRAND LAKE, COLO. — The sun was sinking low as I rounded Grand Lake on a wide footpath through the western margin of Rocky Mountain National Park. I crossed the inlet, sauntered into the village and settled into the friendly environs of the World’s End Brewpub, signed the Continental Divide Trail register book at the bar, and ordered up some chow and a beer.
The cold pint of hazy, juicy delight was my reward for a tough 26-mile day of sweaty but scenic ups and downs, from the heights of the Indian Peaks Wilderness to the shores of civilization on Colorado’s largest and deepest lake, the headwaters of the Colorado River. With gusto, I also celebrated reaching the 1,500-mile mark of the trek.
Every day through the Centennial State has been filled with stunning vistas of snow-ribboned mountaintops, green meadows flush with wildflowers, clear rushing creeks and rivers, and forests of evergreens and aspens. On top of the world for miles on end, I would often belt out verses from John Denver’s 1972 classic song, “Rocky Mountain High.”
The Continental Divide Trail route has led from the San Juan Mountains and the Sawatch Range to the Gore Range and now the Front Range. I have passed through five national forests and at least nine wilderness areas. Along the way, I’ve crossed countless 12,000-foot passes, ridges and summits, and have even topped 13,000 feet on several occasions.
Colorado has a way of beating up on even the most determined thru-hikers, however. At first, you’re running high on the excitement of the new state and the adrenaline for the challenge ahead. But the daily grind of 4,000-5,000 feet of climbing over rough, often precipitous and exposed terrain wears you down. The physical and mental toll mounts.
It was north of Cottonwood Pass when this hiker essentially ground to a halt. I was struggling to make progress over the high elevations, toiling in painfully slow fashion on the ascents and pausing to rest on the downhill stretches, even on level ground. I was not playing my best game and I darn well knew it. The frequent thunderstorms, clouds of mosquitoes and twinges of loneliness also factored in. My low point had arrived.
Realizing I was in a funk was the first step to figuring a way out. I slept on the matter, and come morning began to make changes. I rearranged the load in my backpack so it no longer felt like carrying a sack of cement. Next, I adjusted the pack’s harness system, tweaking the shoulder, load-lifter and sternum straps, plus the waist belt, which I’d neglected to do for many weeks.
Just like that, the weight was off my shoulders and settled more on my hips. I could breathe easier and deeper, and my legs could move more fluidly. I practiced rhythmic breathing and employed the “rest-step,” an energy-saving technique I learned years ago in the Swiss Alps. Switchback after switchback, I began to feel markedly better.
At the next town stop, my grocery list skewed more heavily toward jerky, cheese, peanut butter, dried fruit, nuts, protein bars, tuna and the like, and less to the junk foods I love but that don’t sustain a hard-working hiker over the long haul. Altitude is a sure appetite killer, so I knew I’d have to be extra vigilant in my eating habits until my hiker hunger returned.
Finally, I adjusted my attitude. To think good thoughts, worry only about what’s right in front of me, and get back to enjoying what I’m out here for. If this all sounds like common sense stuff, you’re right, it is. These things I’ve known from decades of experience on the trail, but when you can’t see the forest for the trees, well, you know.
The days are still long and hard, but I feel strong again, optimistic. The spring has returned to my step and the smile to my face. After some rest in Grand Lake, I will again shoulder my pack and march westward into the Rabbit Ears Range, then north through the Sierra Madre. Encompassed by the Medicine Bow—Routt National Forest, this will be some of the wildest country yet on this wild adventure from Mexico to Canada.
The Wyoming state line is less than 150 trail miles away. I’ll “see” you on the other side.
Carey Kish of Mount Desert Island is thru-hiking the 2,800-mile Continental Divide Trail through the Rocky Mountains from Mexico to Canada. Follow more of his journey on Facebook and Instagram. Comments are welcome at maineoutdoors@aol.com.
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