Day One. I am actually doing this...

It is really a good thing I went over to Target before I went to bed, there were several items that I needed because apparently I didn't have enough weight in my pack. No one likes a slouch on the trail. As you might have already figured, setting both alarms was an exercise in futility. Neither one went off and I am not sure why. I had awakened about 5:58 A.M. My trusted long time cherished friend texted me a few minutes later saying she was on her way.  A quick shower, a final securing of all attached items and I was nearly ready to go. I filled my water bottles in the sink using those silly plastic cups they give you. I guess there is water at the trailhead but rumor has it the hotel water weighs more.

I slid on the pack. Let's just say there were a lot of ounces there. With all the excitement of a kid on his first day of Kindergarten, I headed down the elevator, settled with the inn keeper and made my way out front for my long time cherished friend to arrive. A few short minutes later, I had my pack in her backseat and was off to the trailhead.

Before retiring the night before, I had a late dinner with my buddy Glen who had taken me to a Native American restaurant. The shredded buffalo was phenomenal. Right next door was an old fashioned bakery that was prepping for the all night bake-a-thon and the smells of cinnamon and yeasty breads wafting into the parking lot are what good dreams are made of. Before heading to the trailhead, we stopped and grabbed a cheese Danish and a cranberry scone. The Danish was evidence that God loves us.

After some settling in with coffee and fresh baked carbs, we cussed our way thru morning traffic until we got to the trailhead. It was about a twenty minute drive. After circling the parking lot several times looking for the trailhead, we finally found the signs leading across the street and up the hill. I slid on my pack which had magically gained another twenty pounds since we left the hotel. It must be the altitude. I measured out my trekking poles and with small step for the hike and one giant leap for old retired guys, my journey had begun.

I met with the first two thru hikers, Dave and Evan. They were from Texas and they were gone before I could get my first trailhead pictures in. With a big ole grin I said to my long time cherished friend, "I am actually doing this." She smiled, snapped a few pictures and made small talk as she escorted me up the first few hundred yards of the trail.  It was hard to see her go but the parting made the Trail that much more real. I was on the Colorado Trail, I was alone and was going to absorb as much from the journey as I could. All was right on heaven and earth.

It was not too much longer before there were hikers sneaking up behind me, making small talk and speeding away donning their sissy lightweight packs as they disappeared among the twists and turns of the trail. I met Andy from Las Vegas or I as I call him Wrong Way Andy. We made our way up our first hill when Andy takes out his handy dandy trusty trail guide and decides we need to go back down the hill and make a hard right turn at the road. He was wrong. He quickly disappeared into the twists and turns as well.

I kept on trudging up the hill, sipping water as I go, hoping I don't have to take off my pack to look for anything or switch out water bottles. It was a painful process just putting it on and taking it off. Around noon, I passed my first hikers. They were two gals with the trail names of Cat Pajamas and Wild Thang. Wild Thang was giving me the stink eye so I figured I best be movin'. I wished them well and went on my way. I was not hungry but around 2:00 P.M., I decided to stop for lunch. I ate the heaviest things I could find in my bear bag: tortillas, cheese and tuna. A half hour later, I was loading up a now six ounce lighter pack and scurrying up the hill.

I stopped for a quick break on top of one of the ridges. There was a hint of a view but it was mostly obscured by the smog in Denver. I met Larry there. I think he might want to avoid hiking with Andy because he spent the last hour hiking the wrong direction after taking a break to take off his pack to make it a few ounces lighter. He remembered the log formation where I had been resting. If you see Larry, don't mention this. He is a little embarrassed.

Larry past me about an hour later as I rested before making the final descent into the campground at the river, which is the end of segment one and the end of day one. The view from the hill overlooking the quickly disappearing campsites was like a scene out of A River Runs Through It. It was golden from the dust and haze from the late afternoon sun's warm hues.  Even from that far away, the river looked as inviting as ice cream on a hot day. I guess I was too tired or didn't want to put my pack down or maybe I figured taking a picture of this scene might some how add more weight.

I shuffled my way into what would be the most crowded camp of the trail. Segment one was behind me; new adventures awaited. I ran into Dave and Evan. They advised there were not too many camping spots left close the river and the spot across the trail might not be a bad idea. Tweren't gonna argue with them. I dropped my pack like a hot mic, grabbed my filter kit and went to the stream to replenish my water supply before it got too dark to set up my tent and cook dinner.

It took me a little longer than most to fill my bottles. Not like Dave and Evan or Cat Pajamas and wild thang (she had a softer eye now), who had a bucket brigade going. I would fill up my bottle about half way and slam it down. It tasted mahvelous, simply mahvelous. Then I would refill it, repeat the hydrating process until I couldn't absorb another sip. With a gallon of water in tow, I made my way back to camp, made dinner and retired for the night. 16 miles, 17 ounces lighter, the world at my feet. The first day was a good day. Just sayin'...