Angels watching over me...
Still unsure what had happened the day before, but I felt I had a new lease on this Trail thing. I met with Chalice and her mom and they agreed to take me down to the post office to mail off some of the not really needed for this trip items. I cleaned out my pack and made a mail back to mama pile. I rode down the hill to Buffalo Creek, which is not even really a town. It is more of a wide spot in the road. There was a two story building that was a general store/post office/gas station. The place had its own little charm that kept Chalice and her mom busy while I stuffed the "If it fits, it ships" flate rate box. I was surprised at how much it held. While filling the box, the Post Office lady leaned over to me and quietly says "Let me guess. You are hiking the Colorado Trail and you realized you have too much stuff and you need to mail it home?" Apparently, I was not the first one with this brilliant idea. She finished taping the box and disappeared with it into the Post Office section of the store. Eighteen dollars and change never went so far.
Chalice, nicknamed me "Taco Man", because she thought my tent looked a little like a taco sitting out in that meadow. The name seemed to stick. I needed a trail name and I was good with that one. After I had gathered some water to refill my bottles we headed back to camp. I could have asked to swing by the fire station to top off my water supply but my trail angels were busy, so very gracious and I did not want to even give the impression I was taking advantage of their kindness.
There is a phenomenon I have read about called Trail Angels. They always seem to show up at the right time with food or a ride or water or a beer or whatever the hiker needed or didn't know they needed. Todd and Chalice were clearly my Trail Angels and I will be forever grateful. They came along at the right time and provided safety and the comfort of knowing there was someone there to turn to.
Once back at camp, I was invited to stay for dinner. I was even tempted with lasagna, but it was nearly noon and I needed to get down the trail. I thanked them for their kindness, gave them my card in hopes they would follow the blog and read about what their act of kindness meant to me. With a trail name, a lighter, but still too heavy pack, I made my way down the trail until my trail angels disappeared amongst the twist and turns of the trail. Before I left, Chalice told me the weather prediction was for rain all day ending around six o'clock that evening. I was up for a walk in the rain and did not get disappointed.
The only disappointment was I did not see too many hikers on the trail all day. There was high school mountain bike team that was getting in some practice before the season starts. They were polite, cheerful and properly supervised. I was impressed and hope they continue to be such good ambassadors for the sport. I stopped and traded trail information with an Aussie solo hiker. She told me there was plenty of water ahead. She asked about the fire station and how to find it and if the water tasted good? I told her how to find it and assured her there was water there and cover if she needed it. We parted ways but not before I got a giggle at her bag of potato chips strapped to the outside of her pack. There were a lot of twists and turns on the trail. I could see the post holes dug by the trekking poles of the person in front of me. I never did find out who they belonged to.
I was going to refill my water at a creek adjacent to the Buffalo Creek/Cross Meadows campground, but I noticed foam in the water. The brown icky kind suggesting chemicals in the water source. My filter doesn't remove chemicals. Who knew what was being dumped up upstream. The trail guide said I would cross another creek shortly. I decide to wait out the lightning before going any further. I slid my pack off and hung out in the low spot for about 45 minutes until the lightning had passed. It was good to get Wilma off my back. Had I toughed out the next 300 yards, I would have found a water source, a place to "hide" from the lightning and cook my lunch all in the same spot. It was nice to have the pack off again. I cooked some lunch and got back on the trail. I really wanted to get through section 3 by days end.
I loaded up Wilma and started up the next hill. The rain was still doing its thing as was predicted but I did not care. I felt good and was making progress. Let it rain, let it rain, let it rain. after all, I guess I'd rather spend my time out where the sky looks like a pearl after a rain. I hiked for a few more hours. There was a slight elevation gain that slowed me a bit, but I was still making good time and still feeling good. Perhaps I should have sought shelter at the campground outhouse before lunch. This may have eliminated the urgency that preceded the need that caused for desperate times during a lightning storm on top of the ridge. While dodging lightning, every log is the perfect log.
The weather was beginning to break and I was at a bit of a cross roads. I had found a flat spot on top of another ridge. It was an ideal campsite with flat open spaces and just a hint of a view. I knew I was within a half mile of the road that ends segment three and starts segment four. I could go ahead and strive for the goal of segment completion not knowing what campsites were ahead or I could take the bird in the hand and make up the distance in the morning. Even though I was on ridge, which increases the likelihood of an unwanted contact with lightning, I decided to stay and maybe get some rest.
I found a nice flat spot that looked as though others had camped there before so as to do my best to leave no trace. Since I had a hot lunch, I was good with a cold dinner. I found a great tree to hang my bear bag. I spent fifteen minutes tossing and missing the branch with my rope. But with perseverance and a whole lot of under my breath comments, I was eventually successful.
A bear bag is any type of soft container that is hoisted up into the branches of tall trees. The idea is that it keeps the food off the ground and away from not only bears but rodents, which are affectionately referred to as mini bears. If bears become too familiar with finding food where humans are present, the bear may end up being destroyed. It is only a minor inconvenience and makes for responsible behavior in the wilderness. Another option is a bear can, which is a hard plastic barrel that fits in most packs. It can be stored on the ground at night a safe distance from campers. Human/bear interactions are rarely a blessing to either critter.
While I hung my bear bag, the clouds broke which made for a brilliant sunset. I did not have my camera on me and had to run back to my pack to grab it. I lost the perfect moment. I did get a few sunset pictures but they were a failure in comparison. This had been a good day and I still was able to capture a pretty ok sunset. I went back to my tent and settled in. I wrote for a while. The rainy day made for a cooler evening. I settled into my bag and slipped off to the Land of Nod quite quickly.
Life on the trail was so far from perfect. About every 30 minutes or so, there was a dog that would bark and bark and bark. This went on for about 20-30 minutes and then it would be quiet for about 30 minutes and start all over. At times, I thought it might be other hikers making there way up the hill. I was prepared to get up, welcome them and help them set up (just as long they kept their dog from barking). They never showed. I am guessing since I was so close to the road, the dog must have belonged to some car campers or perhaps a residence close by. When the dogs were not barking the coyotes were howling. It sounded like they got two kills during the night. In the lowest recesses of my mind I was kind of hoping they might get that barking dog. But they didn't. He was still barking when I got my 4:15 wake up call and was still barking when I inflated my mattress again. I was beginning to think that maybe I had a hole in that darn thing.
It was a cold, damp night. My sleeping bag was a bit light for the Rockies. It is a 40 degree down bag that I had picked up at the REI garage sale for .99 cents. With the 15 degree bag liner, it was tolerable most nights but not so much this night. I was never cold just uncomfortably chilly. I am not sure if a more expensive bag would have made this trip any better but a bargain is a bargain is a bargain. I was far more annoyed by the condensation that formed in and on my mustache than by being chilled. It was like being splashed in the face every time I moved.
Even though it had rained all day and the night was pretty much sleepless, I still hoped for that renewing spirit in the morning. Once again, the two hours between my 4:15 wake up call and my 6:30 get out of the tent maneuvers is some of the best sleep I seemed to be getting. I peaked out of my tent flap. There were no hikers, no dogs, no trail angels. The sun was peaking over the ridge, the sky was blue and the world was fresh. Who was I to argue with the universe. Just sayin'...
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