Ghost Ranch to Cumbres Pass: June 6th - June 11th, 2025
* Day 1: Woke up in Chama feeling pretty lousy. Nauseous with a headache. Apparently Susan was feeling nauseous too but she complained a lot less than me. Over a little breakfast we chatted with a friendly lady from Texas who informed us that, unlike now, "back in her day people had to work". I was really slow getting my bag back together because I kept taking breaks to hunch over the toilet in case I threw up. By the wee hour of 9 AM we finally checked out of the hotel and walked down the road to the supermarket parking lot to throw out our thumbs. One driver took us a little ways to Tierra Amarilla and pointed out the Sleeping Giant, and then an old man with a poodle in a yellow 2-door pickup let us hop in his bed and dropped us at the gravel road for Ghost Ranch. We failed to get a lift down the road to the ranch and plodded along in the already-hot 11 AM sun. At Ghost Ranch we bought a couple overpriced snacks, learned a bit about Georgia O'Keefe, fantasized about what we'd buy from the artists in the mercado if we didn't have to carry it, and made the questionable decision to do a day of hiking instead of staying an extra night at Ghost Ranch to try to feel better. Heading up Box Canyon in the heat of 1 PM on a sunny day wasn't very pleasant, moreso due to the weight of our overabundance of food. Navigating the washed-out trail (and the group of schoolchildren clogging the way) against steep sandstone walls proved difficult, and a wrong turn sent us up a steep slog and facing a dead end, with the trail on the other side of the canyon. We turned around, went back, and eventually found our way to the proper trail that switchbacked around the cliffs up to the first level of the mesa. A steady grind took us ever higher, past bands of black-brown gneiss and gorgeous flowering cacti, and the desert gradually transformed into a pine forest. Having drank too much in the heat, we had to collect some extra water from Yeso Tank, a scummy pond with cow patties around the edges and some flatworms trawling the bottom. Let's find out how well those filters work. Had tacos with beans, cheese, and tuna for dinner, a novel concoction for us that ended up being pretty delicious. Kept walking until sunset at about 8:45 and cowboy camped for the night - rough start.
Catching a ride in the bed of a pickup
* Day 2: The nighttime chill wrung a lot of moisture out of the air, and dew gathered thickly on our sleeping bags in the morning. Without enough water to make coffee we groggily stuffed away our damp gear and got started hiking. After 4 miles we hit the point we'd been aiming for yesterday - a reliable spring where the Ghost Ranch Alt rejoins the official CDT. This became our luxury cafe for the next couple hours, as we layed out our sleeping bags to dry, gathered clear water, and enjoyed mugs of coffee. I thought about how backpacking is nice because, unlike mountaineering, you can pretty much stop when you feel like it. On and off ranching roads and around cattle we climbed gradually higher, the pine trees getting taller and the oaks replaced by groves of aspen. Large open meadows alternated with shrubs and patches of forest as the plateau hills rolled up above 10,000 feet. Fields of purple and white lilies had stolen bits of sunshine-yellow from their dandelion neighbors. Eventually we made it to Canjillon Lakes recreation area, taking advantage of a picnic table to prepare dinner (sadly the freshly-installed vault toilet still had wet paint keeping it closed). As we ate dinner a few loud calves ambled past, braying for their mother. We packed up and hiked just past the day-use area to set up camp, and all the while a steady trickle of cows kept wandering out of the forest and down the trail, bellowing out great, guttural "moooo!!"'s that echoed all around the hills. They'd be answered by their fellows who had already found their way to the lake, a chorus of other "moooo!!"'s joining in reply like some sort of bovine gospel call-and-response. This parade continued all night - whenever we thought it was over, a new, deep cow-yodel sounded from the forest and its yodeler stumbled out a few minutes later, bleating and screaming for its friends. Hours and hours of cow white-noise machine. And yet sleep found us anyway.
Beautiful mountain lilies
Cow parade
* Day 3: It got cold above 10,000 feet overnight. More moist air and more very damp sleeping bags. A nice layer of frost formed on our backpacks and shoes and even a bit on the tent. Our ambitious 5:45 alarm proved moot as we wasted time putzing around anxiously waiting for the sun to find us. Finally the tent mostly defrosted and we ambled off through the blown-down trees that had bedeviled the cows all night. Soon another hiker, Scorpion Queen, passed us and we leapfrogged a couple times before grouping up. Conversation sped up the miles and we quickly came up on a nice river. But rivers are always down low so that meant we had to go up again. Along the way visited the Icarus Shrine maintained by the VMRC silent retreat; I liked it more than Susan. During a long dinner break we chatted more with SQ and another hiker, Pepa. Decided to hike more to make the next days easier and finished at a nice spot among the pines after a long 18+ mile day. Beautiful weather so far with barely a threat of rain, and abundant sunshine.
Campsite for the night
* Day 4: Super lucky with the tent placement, a sunbeam hitting it shortly after 6 AM. We're kind of experts. Susan thought she heard some horses and soon down the trail a trio of mustangs nonchalantly munched the grass among some trees. Wild horses are much less skittish than elk. Quick morning miles led to Hopewell Lake, with toilets, a picnic pavilion, and our first trail magic! A very friendly hiker from a few years ago set out a cooler stocked with soda and a box with ziplocs, mayo packets, and cheese powder. Nostalgia gripped Susan as she cracked open an RC cola. A trio of Great Divide bikers rolled up and we had some nice bike/hike (and hike-a-bike) banter. Later on in the day we walked by a strange rock lake that wasn't nearly as good. Storms finally arrived by midday; skies growing ever darker and thunder rumbling from the east. Alternating between sheltered bunches of pines and wide open fields, we hoped to find ourselves in the former when the weather broke. Elk and even an antelope heading for shelter as well. Powered through a long field and finally stopped for dinner; ramen bomb! Adding instant potatoes and instant refried beans to a ramen packet = winning. Decided to hike farther to camp at a lower elevation spot. Somehow the rain still hadn't found us, only bouts of gusty winds and quickly dropping temperatures. Came across ancient aspens like I had never seen; a central trunks of wizened grey scaly bark like armor, arms and branches wearing the typical smooth, white, knotty bark jutting out at right angles before neatly turning towards the sky. They must have some stories. Last miles dragged on and we ended at 19.4, our longest day yet. Our feet are sore and tender on the bottom. Trying to pretend I don't have blisters. Achy knees. 8 days of hiking is a lot.
...rock lake?
Sun on the tent... Nailed it
* Day 5: "Shorter" day today (about 15.5 miles) so we dawdled some in the morning. Much debating over whether we're "thru-hikers" or not. Susan's not so sure she wants to be a "thru-hiker". After some pitter-patters overnight the rain left and the morning is clear and bright and crisp shades of blue and green. We climbed steadily out of the valley and then rolled back down. Filtering water, another hiker came by - ASAP (Always Say A Prayer), who'd lost his adult son to cancer. Made it to Lagunitas after a little while, found the parking lot filled by a flotilla of Texas Jeeps and UTV's. No toilet paper in the vault toilets. Chatted with a friendly man from Texas who admitted Colorado is a little more beautiful but he doesn't like "having to share it with so many people". So New Mexico will do. Storms gather to the south, west, and north as we hike up away from the lakes to Brazos Ridge. Pass ASAP again as he's having a snack. Lucky for us the storm really hits while we're still below treeline and this time we have much better shelter to sit and hide from the hail. The straight-trunked lodge pole pines remind me of Montana. ASAP hikes by while we hide from hail and we don't see him again the rest of the day. Slow rambling along Brazos Ridge puts us above 11,000 feet and grants a scenic view of Cruces Basin. Skies are dark and and gloomy all day with a cold wind, but the rain never comes back. High camping tonight. Came across a Great Divide biker camping here, too, Dan, who earns my major respect for wearing a cotton hoody and saying that our 15.5 miles "sounds like plenty". We get a second dinner because we packed too much damn food; we only just today ate the apple I've carried for more than 70 miles. Susan is disgusted by how long we've gone without bathing, so you know it's bad. Last day tomorrow!
Beautiful morning at the campsite
Hiding from the hail
* Day 6: Not too eventful today. Hiked down into valleys and up onto ridges. Clear morning almost got too hot before storms sprung up right on cue at noon. Sadly these sat right along the Colorado border so we had to hike into them. Grumpy water rumbling in the sky contrasted with the happy water babbling through Dixie Creek. First views into Colorado promise sweeping peaks but also show little snow, a relief for us. Some day-hikers shared a whole bar of chocolate with us, and while I gratefully had a couple pieces right away I couldn't help but laugh at how many chocolate bars Susan and I still had. Popped out at Cumbres Pass and somehow got way too lucky, catching a hitch down to Chama with the first car that came by. We chatted with the older man from Steamboat Springs and petted his dog Ollie, who cuddled with us in the back seat, and felt relief because the rain and small hail hit his windshield instead of us. Couldn't quite check into the Y-Motel yet at 2:30 PM, so got some food from the taco shop next door. Super greasy quesadilla. Ended up in the room next to ASAP, who told us about suffering serious injuries on the Appalachian Trail 2 years in a row, his replaced body parts, and donating 50 gallons of blood. Popcorn and cereal for dinner. Helped old George from Florida book a room at the Y Motel, since you had to use an online form and he wasn't very familiar with a smart phone. Much looking forward to a zero day tomorrow.
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