Wildfires, Blowdowns, and Snow (Oh My!)
Cuba to Ghost Ranch to Chama
The trek from Cuba to Chama is my longest stretch on trail so far. The week brings a wildfire detour, state line crossing, exit from the desert, blowdown navigation, and hitch into town.

Of my 24 nights spent camping from Mexico to Canada, I officially end the state with a perfect 50:50 split between cowboy camping and setting up my tent.
And, for those following along since Silver City, the seven days see the continued death of my big toenail, although it remains stubbornly attached to my toe. I thought you’d like to know that.
Day One: A Whole New World
Leaving Cuba thrusts me instantly into a whole new world. Gone are the high and dry desert mesas, miles of sand, and burning hot sun. Instead, I find myself in a beautiful forest, surrounded by bluebells and irises. Snowmelt rivers cut across the trail and dried pine needles crunch under my feet. It’s hard to even remember burning in the desert sun just two days prior.

It may still look red and sandy, but seeing this amount of trees is pretty rare in New Mexico along the CDT.
The trail takes us to San Gregorio Reservoir, which is in the San Juan Parks Wilderness Area. RVs and Campers flood the parking lot, and we all simultaneously realize that we are entering into Memorial Day Weekend. Somehow, somewhere, I absolutely plan to Yogi a beer from someone before Monday is over (spoiler alert: I don’t manage to do this).
For now, I’m thankful for good friends, McDonalds town meals, flowing rivers, and green forests.
Day Two: Smokey Sky, Smokey Bear
The flowing rivers turn to stretches of marshy meadows interspersed with patches of snow. I spend about two miles playing gymnastics to avoid dunking my feet. Finally, almost thankfully, I slip and fully submerge my left foot. After that, I stop caring, and splash my way across the swampy ground.
By this point, I am able to see the plume of smoke rising in the distance from the Indios Fire. The trail has closed in the area, and I have a long, 28-mile highway detour coming up around the wildfire.
I savor my final few miles under tree cover, through a forest, before starting the highway walk to the Coyote Ranger Station.
At the Ranger Station, we chat with Eric, who keeps us updated on the wildfire’s growth and movement. He allows us to fill our water bottles, eat the office snacks, and– best of all– use the station’s flush toilets.
I leave the station with more Smokey the Bear merchandise than I know what to do with, and camp on the land behind the Ranger Station.
I know I have a full marathon on a paved highway shoulder to look forward to tomorrow, but find it hard to shake my good mood. Something about the unexpected trail magic and the generosity of strangers out here makes it impossible to stay grouchy for too long.
Plus, with the overabundance of water during the day, it seems the desert may finally be behind us.
Day Three: Cult on the Highway
The desert most certainly is not behind us.
There’s not much to say about the highway walk. It’s exactly how you’d expect: long, hot, dry, and boring.

We start the day early to fit in as many miles as possible before the heat of the day. Thanks to this, we end up knocking out 20 miles by noon.
My tramily and I play games with the passing cars, trying to invent the most unique greetings to the passing drivers.
We hike in a line and do the wave, throw out the Vulcan Salute, and bow in unison.
The drivers on Highway 96 have a great sense of humor, and we get tons of waves and honks in response. The Highway 84 drivers, for some reason, are far grouchier, and we get more confused looks than waves.
Eventually we reach the Orphan Mesa Picnic Area, and we cowboy camp on the side of the highway surrounded by beautiful, red rocks.
Does everything hurt? Yes. Am I chomping at the bit to spent another full day on a highway? Absolutely not. But, once again, my friends turn an unbearable task into an oddly fun one.
Day Four: Georgia O’Keeffe
Finally, I return to the trail after three quick morning miles into Ghost Ranch. Located just 65 miles north of Santa Fe, Ghost Ranch served as the summer home and studio for Georgia O’Keeffe. Many of the stunning mesas and canyons surrounding the ranch are reflected in her art, and I love seeing pictures of her artwork as I stare at the subject itself.
Ghost Ranch does, in fact, mark the end of the desert on the CDT (until Wyoming!). I load my pack with the final food I’ll carry through New Mexico and start the brutally hot ascent up and out of Box Canyon.
Eventually, I step on a patch of pine needles, and look up to realize the hot sand and red stone have melted into pine trees and rolling hills. The sagebrush smell in the air turns to the familiar scent of pine needles baking under the spring sun. Just like that– we are out of the desert and into the foothills of the Rocky Mountains.
As if welcoming us to the mountains, the sunset paints the sky every color as the sun falls below the rolling hills. It feels like home.
Day Five: Mountains?!?!!
I’m greeted in the morning by two elk on the trail. I only have a few seconds of staring at them before they both turn and hightail it away from me.
Minutes later, as I exit the trees into a stunning, rolling meadow, the rest of the herd of elk runs past me and parallels the trail for several miles.
I walk towards distant mountains, patchworked with the dark green of pine trees and light green of aspen groves. Out in those mountains, I see another giant plume of smoke.
With the highway walk around the Indios Fire fresh on my mind, I worry about the possibility of yet another wildfire detour. Luckily, the smoke is coming from a prescribed burn out near Tres Piedras and, as the wind changes direction away from us, we end up completely unaffected.
Day Six: Riding the Bus
I hike with Bus Driver today, as my FarOut hasn’t been working for the past few days. This section of trail is pretty annoying to navigate map-less, as clearly defined trails often terminate without warning or turns away from the actual redline.
Luckily, my time riding the bus is very pleasant, as it lets me spend a lot of time with one of the wittiest and kindest hikers I’ve ever met. We end up taking a side quest off the trail to a shrine in the woods to Icarus. I make a note to look up the origin of this shrine in town, when I have service, but never end up finding out any information.

I’m desperate for information on this incredibly cool (but random) shrine. Anyone who knows anything about it, please come forward!!
I’m starting to really want a day in town. I’m particularly stinky, tired, and am starting to develop various aches and pains in my lower body that make hiking a little more challenging.
But, I still have one full day of hiking before reaching the Colorado border. It can’t come quickly enough.
Day Seven: Goodbye, New Mexico
New Mexico digs her claws in as I try to leave. The trail, already covered in soft, deep snow, turns into an adult jungle gym as I pick my way across hundreds of blown-down trees.
The trail is nonexistent and my pace slows to almost one mile an hour. My legs feel the brunt of the obstacle course, and I finally reach the border bleeding but happy.
We’re greeted with trail magic from Tumble On Outfitters, and celebrate our border crossing with New Mexican beer. This is the first time I’ve ever crossed state lines on a hike, and I feel overwhelmed with the flood of emotions. Even if I have to get off this trail tomorrow, the sense of accomplishment that has come with walking from Mexico to Colorado will stay with me forever.
Looking Forward
My tramily and I play a game where, if someone sees you fall, you owe them a beer. Thanks to this, I find myself blissfully drunk in a bar in Chama, surrounded by friends and music from the jukebox.
I relish the knowledge that, tonight, I will go home to a hotel, sleep in a bed, and take a shower. Tomorrow, I leave New Mexico behind as I head for the still snow-covered San Juan Mountains of Colorado.
Wish us luck!
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Comments 1
I enjoyed reading your article/blog! Good writing.
Did you get Judd’s last name by chance? Judd with the banjo. We met in Telluride. Good dude