After a much-needed zero at Ghost Ranch, we’re back on the trail, ready to reconnect with the redline and tackle the stunning, rugged terrain of northern New Mexico. The first day is a feast for the senses: golden aspens shimmering in the valley, crimson cliffs rising dramatically above, and the thrill of hiking along a rim with sweeping views. And then, we somehow ended up in a cold winter wonderland.
CDT Day 114 — Lunch in a Cave, Thunder in the Valley
Feeling rejuvenated after a zero-day, I’m relieved to have my legs back to normal. It’s time to leave Ghost Ranch and reconnect with the redline, trading the valley’s gentle path for a climb back to the rim. The ascent is steady and forgiving, and the payoff is immediate: sweeping views of the valley below, where a winding river cuts through patches of golden aspens, all framed by red cliffs and flat-topped mesas. Looking back, Ghost Ranch is a speck amid this stunning landscape.
As rain begins to fall, I spot a shallow cave beside the trail — an ideal lunch spot. We hunker down, savoring our Ghost Ranch lunchbox: a sandwich, cookie, cereal bar, juice, and chips. If you didn’t send a resupply box to Ghost Ranch, you could resupply on multiple lunchboxes, which is definitely the best deal. They only have a small selection out of $3 ramen and some expensive bars, while the lunchboxes are $10 each. With this view, even a simple lunch feels luxurious.
Reaching the rim’s top, the wind cuts sharp and cold, but the scenery doesn’t let up. We walk along the edge, the cliffs offering panoramic views of the valley below. Though the sun hides behind the clouds, I can only imagine how the rocks would blaze with color during golden hour. The extra effort to get here feels completely worth it.

View from the top of the rim
Descending back into the valley, a thunderstorm rolls in. We pause under a tree, snacking as the rain softens. The storm clears just as we reach a wide river — the last major one we’ll see until Mexico. The sun bursts through, making the red rocks blaze against a dramatic backdrop of dark clouds. It’s one of those unforgettable moments when the trail feels like pure magic.

Chama River
The day continues with more stunning terrain: vibrant red cliffs giving way to another valley. We refill water from a surprisingly clean cow trough, but still filtering it just to be safe. As the rain returns, we push through a burn area riddled with gullies. Each dip and climb tests our endurance, but the barren landscape full of hazardous burned trees keeps us going.

Another storm is brewing in the evening
Night falls, making the already faint trail harder to follow. This is no place for night hiking, but we press on, determined to reach camp. Finally, we spot a cluster of healthy trees and settle in for the night.
CDT Day 115 — Thunder Snow
CDT Day 116 — Narnia and Cuba
We wake to a scene straight out of Narnia: a thick layer of snow blankets everything. Our tent sags under its weight, and Ryan’s zipper is frozen shut. My air pad gave up last night, so I spent the night inflating it over and over. It’s a cold world out there, and everything in me screams to stay in my cozy sleeping bag. Still, the thought of reaching town — warm, dry, and well-fed — pulls us out of our sleeping bags. It’s still snowing as we pack up, bundling ourselves in every available layer, shoving cold hands into gloves and braving the cold world outside.

Waking up to this
We opt for the Old CDT route, which should bring us into town sooner and avoid a road walk notorious for aggressive dogs. I’m afraid of dogs, so I’m happy about this alternate. For a while, we crunch through fresh snow along a stream in an open meadow, the trail surprisingly easy to follow under its white blanket. Snow-laden trees surround us, and while the cold nips at my feet, my hands warm as we hike. Still, I rather take snow than rain, as it’s much drier. But Ryan steps into a river, soaking both feet, and I manage to get one foot wet in a muddy puddle. But knowing warmth and dryness await us in town makes these mishaps easier to shrug off. It’s slow-going through the snow, but at least the navigation is fairly easy. We only have to circumnavigate some blowdowns.

Trudging through the fresh snow towards Cuba
As we descend, patches of colorful aspens appear, a vibrant contrast to the monochrome snowy world. The snow line ends at 8,700 feet, and rain replaces the flakes. After 6 miles we get to a road, hopeful that the rest of the way to Cuba should be smooth sailing. Wrong. The dirt road turns into a slippery mess of mud, and we slide along, our shoes and Frogg Toggs weighed down by muck. When the dirt road finally turns to asphalt, we stick our thumbs out, hopeful for a ride.

A vibrant contrast in monochrome world
A white SUV pulls over, and John, our trail angel, gives us a lift into Cuba. He’s from Utah and served a Mormon mission in Germany during the 60s when the country was still divided, and surprises us by speaking some German. It’s like an hour left on the road into Cuba, but we’re ready to get out of here. We strip out of our muddy Frogg Toggs pants, trying not to bring too much mud into the car and off we go.
Once in Cuba, we discover we can’t check into our hotel room yet, so we march to the holy golden arches of McDonald’s with our wet feet, Ryan’s shoes squeaking hilariously — and maddeningly — with each step. A feature brought to you by wet Altra shoes. And sure enough, we run into other hikers here including Shovel, who wisely zeroed to avoid the storm. We got delayed due to our unexpected zero in Ghost Ranch because of my weird muscle strain. After stuffing our faces with Big Mac’s, we head to the laundromat to wash our wet, smelly clothes and resupply at the Family Dollar next door. By the time we return to the hotel, we’re ready for hot showers.
The Frontier Hotel is packed with hikers, many waiting out the storm. We hear harrowing stories, like a group who camped in a wash, woke to flooded tents, and hiked back to Cuba soaked and exhausted at 4 am.
That evening, we join Heather, Shovel, Ready, 9 Lives, and Sidequest for dinner at a Mexican restaurant. It’s one of the few open places in town besides McDonald’s. Being in Green Chile country, everything is spicy. Even the guacamole I try to calm my burning mouth with. As I can’t handle spice with my sensitive stomach, I’m not very stoked about that. I miss the mild, fries-filled burritos of California-style Mexican food. There is a Korean food truck we were excited about, but it’s closed on weekends. Reminds me of that scene in the Three Amigos movie where Steve Martin’s character, Lucky Day, says, “Do you have anything besides Mexican?” while being in a small Mexican village.
As rain pounds on the roof that night, I think of how much snow must be falling back where we camped. Tucked into warm sheets, I drift off, grateful to be indoors. Good night, Narnia.

Cuba, New Mexico
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Comments 4
Enjoying your hike tails. I’m glad to read about 9 lives and sidequest because I also read peg leg’s blog and was wondering about them.
9 Lives and Sidequest started to take it slower in New Mexico (the only way we could keep up with them, haha). You can find 9 Lives You Tube Vlog under “Kelly Hays Hikes” if you want to know more about their journey.
I really enjoy reading your posts. You have a way with words. Thank you for taking the time to write and post them. Safe and happy trails to you.
Awesome entry! Glad you had more luck with the hitch than the other hikers. So unnecessary to flip people off just looking for a ride into town.