July 24
Miles: 22.5 (+ 1 to store and back)
Trail Mile: 432
Segment 24 Mile 18.7 to end of Segment 25
We hit up the Molas Lake campground store as soon as it opens, getting side-eyed comment from the owner about taking food from hiker boxes without leaving some too. Which is a terribly narrow version of “fairness” that kind of misses the point: when you need hikerboxes the most ya probably don’t have any food to contribute in that particular moment. I manage some nice upgrades nonetheless.
Then there are many tired miles that I walk alone through chest-deep wildflowers with biting flies on equal abundance. My muscles refuse to warm up today. Every miles feels like the first mile, feels like the last mile, feels like uphill. The Colorado Trail and me need to have a heart to heart.
But I’m not the one having the roughest day. I finally catch Steph, but only because she had stopped to help a group of four hikers. They were day hiking the segment when one of their group had actual heart trouble. Steph used her satellite communicator to message their friend Mark with a request for meds.
Meanwhile, Mark had been setting up a luxurious glamping situation at the next trailhead because the group’s hike was supposed to be a 40th anniversary celebration. When he got the message about the medical situation he packed up camp helped by none other than our friend Jeff from the night at the yurt.
In the meantime of course, the sky has darkened into storm mode. Steph and I, wearing out best trash bag rainskirts, make it to the trailhead. We set up camp, get dinner going and then the group of four dayhikers arrive, everyone doing OK. Except Mark and their camp are gone. It’s getting dark and a thick fog has rolled in. The day hikers put on all their layers and eat extra snacks. We offer them hot water, and Jeff has an emergency blanket and extra food. It’s drizzling again, we can all pile in tents if it gets worse.
Just as it’s full dark, Mark returns. Woohoo! We all help set up their camp (again) and make sure everyone is OK. It’s raining hard now, and we dive back in our own tents, damper than before but with happy hearts for helping as much as we could.
Adventures in Natureculture 