Part Seventy Eight

     December 1st - 3rd                  San Juan Mts, CO                             (Go to Pt 1)

Pagosa Springs was not a resupply stop-over, just a really comfortable place to camp for the night.  I was learning that I actually preferred indoor heat, a hot shower, and a soft, warm bed to living out of a tent, and in Pagosa Springs I found quality camping at the Wagon Wheel motel.

​The next morning I was up early, pouring over maps.  I had a real dilemma on my hands, just a few miles north and east of Pagosa Springs the Continental Divide rose up into the final crescendo of the Colorado Rockies, the Southern San Juan Range.  This range of mountains posed a number of issues right out the door, not the least of which was where to get started.

Click on the map for a larger image

My original plan had been to access these mountains from Wolf Creek Pass, which was also the easiest way back out to the Continental Divide, but at nearly 11,000ft in elevation, and only gaining from there, I was two months too late for a highline traverse across the Southern San Juan’s. Wolf Creek Pass was no longer an option on account of winter conditions above 10,000ft.

While hiking through the Colligate Range, I had found the perfect alternative between an alpine traverse and a valley-bottom hike with the Main Range Trail, which had crossed the eastern flank of that mountain range below 10,000ft.  But no such alternate trail below the snowline ran through these mountains.

The best I could come up with was a gravel road about 7 miles south of Pagosa Springs that ran up along the Rito Blanco River. I could see from the map that this little jaunt up the Rito Blanco and over the ridge wasn’t going to amount to a whole lot, and would end-up back down at the highway, but I wasn’t seeing much of anything else that was still accessible, so I went with it.

The road walk down to the Rito Blanco River took a couple of hours and the balance of the afternoon was spent hiking gravel road up along the river into the Blanco Basin.  I made camp in a meadow, under clear skies, where my tent stakes got lucky with shallow, ground frost, and Radio’s contribution to the evening was county-western-Jesus.

The next morning I set out looking for a jeep trail shown on my map and started up what appeared to be the right trail, although I couldn’t be certain because nearly all of the dirt roads I had passed since leaving the highway had been unmarked, and many were not shown on my map.  Fortunately, the road I followed panned-out, and an hour and a half of moderate hiking brought me out along the ridge.

​As I headed down the backside, the jeep trail devolved into a wide trail, showing more wear and tear from horses than off-road vehicles.  On the final descent to the valley I wasn’t exactly sure which drainage I had ended up in, but it didn’t much matter since everything went back down to Highway 84.

I reached the highway with enough afternoon remaining to dog-out another hour of road walking down to Chromo and the Navajo River where I made camp.  So, that was it.  That was going to have to count as my tour of Colorado’s Southern San Juan mountains because tomorrow I planned on being in New Mexico.

I was up early the following morning and anxious to get going.  I hadn’t had this sense of anticipation toward a day of hiking since Craig and I had crossed over the border from Montana into Wyoming.  Walking into New Mexico was going to be a huge milestone.

Click on the map for a larger image

I headed up the gravel road running east along the Navajo River where the valley bottom had an arid, ‘New Mexico’ feel to it.  After following the river for several miles, I had to make another calculated guess as to the which jeep trail to follow but here I was working with one of the detailed, 24,000 series maps I had, so the trail’s location wasn’t that tricky to find.

From the Navajo River I turned south up a gravel wash, hiking 3 miles of parched streambed while watching the jeep road wither away to tracks in the sand.  At 8,800ft, I reached the arid and open crest of the Continental Divide where I could finally look south into New Mexico.
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My world had just changed dramatically.  The snow, cold, and massive mountains of Colorado had melted away into sprawling vistas of open rangeland, forested hills, and mesas.  There also seemed to be a subconscious knot of stress that noticeably relaxed its grip. My thoughts were light, cheerful, and sanguine.

The forests of dense, sub-alpine fir, pine, and spruce trees that I had lived in for months were now puff-balls of pinion and juniper clustered across open mesas, and everything around me looked and felt, not so much like crossing over into another state, but rather crossing into another country.  For me, the contrast was that stark.

As I sat on my pack digesting the view, two thoughts stood out: First, was how lucky I’d been to escape Colorado without being captured by a trip-ending snowstorm, and secondly, looking south toward Mexico, I felt like nothing could stop me now.

Click on the map for a larger image

From the crest of the ridge, I followed down into the Rio Chamita valley and crossed over into New Mexico.  The radical change in my environment and surroundings so captured my attention that the 12 miles to Chama floated by in a dreamy afternoon of New Mexico on my mind.

Unlike most days where every footfall was noted, I was so lost in thought that I hardly realized I was still hiking when the town of Chama, my first resupply stop of New Mexico, appeared in the not-so-far-off distance.  Cool beans!

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Go to Part 79

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​The CDTC was founded in 2012 by volunteers and recreationists hoping to provide a unified voice for the CDT. Working hand-in-hand with the U.S. Forest Service and other federal land management agencies, the CDTC is a non-profit partner supporting stewardship of the CDT. The mission of the CDTC is to complete, promote and protect the Continental Divide National Scenic Trail, a world-class national resource. For more information, please visit continentaldividetrail.org.

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