the San Juans

Wow. The San Juans have been amazing. Just amazing. The last 100 or so miles have all been above 10,000', only dipped down below treeline a couple times, and only briefly. And it has really felt like we were up in the sky, with the clouds rising, tumbling, and falling around us, offering surreal and glimpses of unexpected peaks, sheer and ragged - surprising red, blue-purple, grey and black stone, shimmering snowfields, and verdant alpine basins below, where we walk along muddy paths, or across spongy green meadows of moss, sedges, and grass. Much of the walk was really unearthly, supernatural, maybe we were in the Rockies, maybe the Andes, maybe one of those old Chinese paintings, maybe Middle Earth. Strange and beautiful, the silence of the clouds, the trail fading off into the swirling mists...

Not all peaceful and dreamlike, however - we also got hit with ample hail and rainshowers, blasting winds, and pummelled by a dramatic night-long thunderstorm. We had ended up setting up camp kind of early - 6 or so - with Eric and Doug, on the edge of a little basin - a small lake below the ridge on one side of camp, sheer 200' cliffs on the other - a beautiful little spot that for some reason we mutually agreed was too nice to pass up. Usually we would have walked on for another hour and a half, and it turned out to be a fortuitous decision to camp where we did, as I don't think we would have found anything but the rocky edge of the divide for miles to come. Soon we were hearing thunder rumbling to the south and west - impossible to see what was coming, because the ridges were hidden in mists and cloud - but it sounded ominous enough to get the tents up and dinner eaten quickly - and when it finally hit us, it was pretty much time to hunker down in our tents and hope for the best. And we basically got hit by round after round of hail and rain, with the winds only getting stronger and stronger all night. I don't think anyone slept much - lights coming on and off in our's, Doug's, and Eric's tents, tent stakes being re-pounded, a few times a whoop or yell or curse of solidarity over the thunder and wind. Pretty wild - finally our tent pole blew over in the darkness, and as we got it set up again my 530 watch alarm went off - no need to try and sleep in this wet bag any more, might as well make breakfast and get out of here - and as the sky grew lighter, occasional gaps between the clouds would rush past, and we could glimpse out over the valley below, the wildest stormiest and mountainous views imaginable.

Eventually we got going, pushing through gale force winds along the ridges of the continental divide that trail followed - and eventually moments of sun, and clouds diminshing - and by afternoon, we were basking in glorious sunshine at Piedra Pass, only the cold wind was left to remind us of the storm's passing. B, Eric, and I decided that we'd had enough high ridge walking for a while, and left the divide for a while to head down the valley of the West Fork of the San Juan, and Rainbow Hot Springs. Which it turns out had been mostly obliterated by a recent rockslide, but there were still two nice pools to soak in, and it was immensely enjoyable just to lay in those pools, deep in a sprucey valley, and watch the evening sunlight play off the rock formations 3000' feet above.

We met up with my folks, bearing a tremendous two-cooler picnic supply, yesterday lunchtime, and are now enjoying civilization in Pagosa Springs CO for a brief respite from the walking. Only a couple hundred miles to go, our next town stop Chama NM, then Ghost Ranch, then the trail's completion - where our southbound route from Canada meets our northbound route from Mexico - the golden spike - or chile relleno - at El Bruno's in Cuba NM, probably the evening of Sept. 21.