A Tale of Two Divides: South to Mexico

Let’s keep this one simple, shall we?   After hiking 5,233 miles along the American Discovery Trail, spending the last three months working on my bike (food delivery) and living out of a motel in Denver, the time has finally come to continue my trek south along the Continental Divide to Mexico.  I am sitting right now on a rock, some 7,300 feet in the air, overlooking the Colorado Trail that will carry me westbound to meet up with CDT somewhere near Kenosha Pass.

I’ve lightened my load substantially in preparation for what I intend to be a fast hike, stripping down my four season tent to just the inner tent and poles.  I’m sporting a new pack I got on discount and dividend, by no means an ultralight as I prefer a denier fabric that’ll stand up to the abuse I always inflict.  It’ll be a no-muss-no-fuss affair, with just the fast drying clothes on my back, including hat and two neck gaiters plus sun glasses on my face.  I’ll be using the same 20° synthetic sleeping quilt I’ve carried for over a year, a new 3 1/2 season sleeping pad plus versatile 1/2 inch foam, a bear canister to keep food storage simple, my reliable MSR stove set to run gasoline for easy local resupply at just the right volume, a pot to cook in, my MSR Guardian water pump that has gotten me through the nastiest water in the United States and freezing temperatures down to a single degree, my Garmin unit for navigation, a headlamp for the inevitable night hiking, all the various cables and battery packs, my professional camera; and of course all the what-have-you knickknacks, straps, clips and so on.  I’ll also have a pair of shoes on my feet and a pair strapped to my pack.  I’m not much for mail resupply, except in an emergency, as I like to keep moving and stay local so much as I can.  I prefer to hike with a nature supplied trekking staff (that is, a stick!) to those fancy poles that never seem to be the right length; and during my gear test this week I think I found just the right one waiting for me atop an 8000 foot mountain I climbed in a hail and thunderstorm because I just couldn’t resist the inevitable view.

No doubt I’ve left something off the list, but rest assured I have what I need to forge through crisis and beauty, to arrive, and to do it all again…

And so the boy stared off once again into the abyss, a tear in his eye and a longing in his heart.  He knew what lie ahead, such familiar in the unknown; the dark clouds swelled the wrath of the almighty Thor as lightning cracked across the endless horizon of towering peaks, hail pelted against his bare chest as he hollered for more, arms stretched wide such joy before…

I’ll be on the footpath, likely June 1, no later than June 2!