Runners started passing our camp about 4:30a. I take back my admiration of them and convert it to disdain. With all the traffic, we got up pretty early—much earlier than I wanted. We got packed up quickly and hit the trail in search of water. We came to a small creek in only about ½ mile so we stopped to cook some breakfast and fill our water bottles.
Lots of people stopped to admire the BioLite stove. We also heard that there was bear activity in Crater Lake last night—a couple of camps had their trash and food attacked. I look like a fricking genius insisting we push on past the “tourist area”. Chickenshit outfit, my ass!
I’m glad we didn’t do this leg of the loop first or I would have made my mind up that it sucked. The trail wasn’t bad, just very crowded. At one rest break I looked behind us and counted 16 people in sight within just ¼ mile. This is the primary hiking route between Aspen and Crested Butte with people doing the 12 miles as a day hike then catching a shuttle down to town for one night and returning the next day.
I was finally feeling pretty good today—well-adjusted to the altitude and full of energy. Maybe the cigar made the difference. It was still a tough approach to West Maroon Pass for the last ¼ mile. The old Buddhist was right—there is a very loose patch of trail right before the top. Pam was leading and she just ran on by it. Brad was about 20 yards behind her, but when he got to it, time froze. He claims he was just out of breath, but he didn’t move for a solid 10 minutes staring at the trail. Pam got worried and looked back down the pass to see where we were. I kept telling Brad it was ok, just grab the rock wall and push on through. I was right behind and Pam was in front to offer help. Finally he got going and finished the final 50’ to the pass.
We spent about 20 minutes up at the pass taking pictures and eating snacks. Brad was in a daze, but functioning. Lots of people came through while we were up there including two older guys from California we had passed earlier. We put our packs back on to head down the Crested Butte side and Brad kept asking if we got him in any pictures—he didn’t remember taking any pictures. I still don’t buy that he was just catching his breath at the rough patch; he blanked out completely. Once we got back down to a less steep section of trail, Brad said “If anyone took my son on this trail, I’d kick their ass.” His son had asked if he could go, but Brad told him not until he got some hiking experience and now it looks like he’ll never let him go.
After the pass, it’s all downhill to the trailhead. But no trees! I hate walking in the sun without any shade. The flowers were still in full bloom, but they were starting to fade. They were at their peak when we started 5 days ago. When we finally made it to a small patch of trees, Brad threatened to throw his pack down with all of his shit in, he was never going hiking again. I kept hoping he really would. After I got the gear I loaned him, there were some nice items of his I wouldn’t mind having. I knew he was too into lining every item up in his tent and admiring everything that he had carried to actually throw it away.
The climb up the pass followed by full sun had taken it out of me. I was dragging by the time we finally got to camp. I was also thinking about the drive back down to town having to go over Schofield Pass again. I might have to get another Ativan from Pam for the drive. To delay the drive, I was pushing for another night of camping and they both agreed as long as they didn’t have to carry their packs any more. We gorged ourselves at supper with whatever food we had left and had one last campfire.
Our original plan was to get done early Friday so we were a little ahead on hiking. Joan and Tom needed to be done by 2p today, but I’ll bet they were done yesterday (if not earlier).
