CDT: The Journey into New Mexico

Crossing into New Mexico marks the final chapter of the CDT, but it’s clear this state isn’t about to let us off easy. This stretch from Chama to Ghost Ranch is a bit of a rollercoaster — unexpected illnesses, breathtaking landscapes, and the bittersweet feeling of knowing the end is within reach. But a beautiful reward awaits: A red canyon bathed in sunset light, steep cliffs that reveal sprawling desert vistas, and the magic of Ghost Ranch.

CDT Day 110 — Riding the Hogwarts Express from Chama

The day begins with a magical journey on one of America’s oldest continuously operating steam railroads, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m on my way to Hogwarts, where the sorting hat will announce my house “Rrrraaaavenclaw!”. The train chugs through golden aspens, climbing to Cumbres Pass at 10,015 feet — the highest mountain pass reached by a steam-operated train in the USA. Fun fact: this historic train even made an appearance in an Indiana Jones movie!

We’re taking the narrow-gauge steam locomotive back to the trail

Okay, now I have to info dump some interesting facts about the steam train, so bare with me or jump to the next paragraph instead. Originally built in 1880 to serve the silver mining district, the railroad was abandoned and dismantled in 1969, leaving behind only a 64-mile stretch between Chama, New Mexico, and Antonito, Colorado. Thankfully, the states of New Mexico and Colorado stepped in, purchasing the surviving nine locomotives and 130 cars in 1970 for what would now be $4.5 million, preserving this piece of history. The Cumbres & Toltec Scenic Railroad is America’s longest and highest narrow gauge railroad. The narrow gauge (3 feet between the rails) was chosen so that the railroad could make tighter turns in the mountains. 

We’re taking the narrow-gauge steam locomotive back to the trail

We arrive at Cumbres Pass. This is our stop as the CDT goes right by here. With our backpacks, we squeeze through the tight aisle towards the exit between all the tourists. A lady tells us “I don’t think we’re getting off here” and I reply “Well, we do”. The train ride goes all the way to San Antonito, but they have a special fare for us CDT hikers, who are the only ones getting off here. They even have a “Polar Express” themed train ride in winter which sounds wonderful, hot chocolate included.

We got a bunch of delicious pastries from the local bakery that we finish before hitting the trail with the Canadian couple Shovel and Ready. The big milestone of the day: reaching the New Mexico border! While it feels slightly anticlimactic since we already passed through Chama, the moment still hits — it’s surreal to think we’ve conquered four states, with just one more to go. New Mexico, here we come.

Bye Bye Colorado: The Colorado-New Mexican border

The trail offers one significant climb, our last time above 11,000 feet. Along the way, we spot a group of wild turkeys and enjoy a dirt road walk as the sun sets, painting the horizon in fiery hues. The final mile is tough, though — a rocky road in the dark that feels never-ending. Between stumbling over stones and forgetting to hydrate while chatting, I arrive at camp drained. My stomach still isn’t cooperating, and my social battery is empty. All I want is to crawl into my sleeping bag and rest, so this is what I do. 

We’re hiking with the Canadian couple Shovel and Ready today

CDT Day 111 — A Cosmic Letdown

We’re on trail early today, catching the sunrise as we start a 6-mile dirt road stretch. A few trucks rumble past, probably locals heading home on this quiet Sunday morning. The road leads us through forests still clinging to the last touches of autumn.

We pass Lagunitas Campground, a place heavy with tragedy. In 2015, a thru-hiker named Otter sought shelter in a pit toilet here during a brutal winter storm, hoping for rescue that never came. It’s a haunting reminder of the trail’s dangers and the thin line between adventure and survival.

The trail winds along a cliff with a small river below, flanked by golden aspens shedding their leaves fast now. It feels like the start of stick season — the trees stripped bare, announcing the arrival of winter. We pause for lunch at the last reliable water source for 12 miles. After this, it’s just cow ponds and muddy pools. Welcome to New Mexico.

Walking along a cliff

While wrapping up our lunch break, the guy who gave us a ride into Chama shows up, now out exploring on his bike. We usually write down names of the people we meet, but his name slipped the system. The only time we happen to meet someone twice, how embarrassing. After that, we tackle the day’s only major climb. It’s comforting to know the elevation gains are easing up — it feels like the trail is giving us a cooldown lap after months of grueling effort.

On a dirt road, we meet a Mennonite family from Kansas and chat for a while. One of them hiked part of the PCT in 2019, and they’re captivated by Ryan’s CDT stories. I just want to hike on, as it’s getting very chilly, and I want to reach camp to get warm. 

Clouds are covering up where could be comet. It’s still pretty, though

We hit the highway and Hopewell Lake Campground by a serene lake, just as the sun sets behind moody clouds. Geese and ducks paddle across the water, adding to the peaceful scene. I’d been looking forward to spotting the rare comet visible tonight — a once-in-80,000-years event — but the western horizon is obscured by clouds. It’s a bit of a letdown, especially since we also missed the northern lights two nights ago, while everyone else seemed to catch them. We didn’t know about the Northern Lights and were already in our tent when it happened. What a bummer.

Hopewell Lake

After collecting water, we push on to the next campground, just a bit further uphill, where we set up by a picnic table — a rare luxury. Ready, Shovel, and later Dragon, a Japanese hiker, join us for the night, bringing a bit of camaraderie to the quiet site.

At 25.5 miles, today marks our longest day in a while. New Mexico’s gentler terrain makes it possible.

CDT Day 112 — When the Trail Fights Back

The day starts rough — Ryan wakes up feeling awful, his stomach in rebellion after a tough night. After we take the tent town, he leans over to throw up. Not a great start for the day. We wind through dense forest, following the trail’s twists and turns.

A bit of excitement pulls us off-trail to visit an Icarus Shrine. Perched atop a cliff, it’s a striking figure carved into the rock, an unexpected piece of artistry in the wilderness. There’s supposed to be a shortcut nearby, but we can’t seem to find it. At least the shrine itself makes the detour worthwhile.

Icarus Shrine

Later, we try another shortcut meant to save us 3 miles. That’s when the trail decides it’s my turn to suffer — I’m hit with a UTI out of nowhere. The pain is excruciating, making every step a battle. Tears blur my vision as I shuffle forward, desperate for relief. Luckily, we stumble upon a water source, a small blessing when I need to hydrate constantly.

When we reach the piped spring, we call it a day and camp right there. It’s not the mileage we aimed for, but it doesn’t matter — I’m barely holding myself upright. I huddle under my sleeping bag, clutching disposable hand warmers against my abdomen. It’s a small comfort, but at least it helps a bit.

Sometimes the trail gives, and sometimes it takes. Today was all about fighting through the taking.

CDT Day 113 — Down into the Desert and to Ghost Ranch

The day begins with a mission: pushing through to Ghost Ranch. It’s mostly dirt roads, but the navigation keeps us on our toes. Every turn demands a map check, and the trail’s penchant for vanishing into thin air gives us plenty of WTF moments. It feels like a treasure hunt — without the treasure.

Sunrise on our 26-mile day to Ghost Ranch 

We decide to gamble on a shortcut, which turns out to be not the best idea. What starts as a decent road disappears into nowhere. We’re crawling under fences, startling cows that seem as bewildered by us as we are by them. Scrambling through bushes and cow trails leaves my legs scratched, but at least it’s not boring. Gotta spice things up once in a while, you know.

The last Aspens shedding their leaves

After 13 miles, we hit the Ghost Ranch alternate junction. Another 15 to go. We hadn’t planned on making it to Ghost Ranch today after yesterday’s delays, but when Ready and Shovel text about sharing a campsite, the idea of pushing through sounds doable as we’re making good progress.

After a not particularly scenic day so far (mostly dirt roads), the final stretch is breathtaking. We descend from a plateau down steep cliffs, the golden sunset light painting the red rocks while ravens wheel overhead. It’s slow-going — steep, rocky, and easy to lose the trail. The last 3 miles through the canyon take us two hours. We finally arrive in the desert, welcoming us with soft sand and prickly cacti.

Dropping down into the desert

The last miles lead us down through the canyon

We arrive at Ghost Ranch at 7 pm, too late for dinner and fumbling to find the campground in the dark. I ask a stranger for directions, and by sheer luck, it’s another thru-hiker who guides us. I’m grateful — it’s been a long day, and my thighs are screaming with pain. I just want to stop walking.

By the time we settle in, my legs hurt so much I can’t stand up anymore. It’s terrifying. I’ve never experienced anything like this — severe muscle pain that makes even basic movement impossible. Only crawling kind of works. I really wanted a shower, but this is out of the question now. An internet research says it could be a muscle strain. Weird, today hasn’t been anything bigger than usual, even less elevation wise. I suspect it might be an electrolyte issue from drinking so much water for the UTI yesterday. Either way, rest is non-negotiable now. I’m glad we made it down here. From here we have all possibilities. From resting to getting to different towns and medical attention if needed. I never had anything like that. 

Walking into Ghost Ranch

I cowboy camp for the night, wind whipping around me, and hope for relief in the morning. I take some electrolytes as this is the only explanation that kind of makes sense to me.

Healing and Feasting at Ghost Ranch

Morning brings cautious relief — I can walk again, though my thighs still ache. A shower and laundry become my first priorities. We decide to take a zero-day here to let my legs recover.

Ghost Ranch is a haven. For $30, you can feast all day at the breakfast, lunch, and dinner buffets. There’s a library, a labyrinth, a dinosaur museum (!), and Adobe-style buildings nestled beneath dramatic red cliffs. And, a cat. Wherever there is a cat, I will sure find it. Morning meditation sessions and short films about Georgia O’Keeffe add to the charm. It’s easy to see why she loved this place and I can feel her passion through her words, it’s inspiring.

The labyrinth at Ghost Ranch

The resupply is smooth as they have an excellent system going for the boxes sent here, the staff is kind, and the visitor center offers history tours for just $5. Though O’Keeffe’s home isn’t open to the public, the surrounding beauty speaks volumes about her inspiration.

Our main “chore” is indulging in the buffets, and we do so with gusto. Resting here feels restorative — it’s a recharge for body and soul.

Ghost Ranch