Trip Journal: Durango, Co and the San Jan Mountains
2007's annual camping trip brings us to the trip that started it all (in a manner of speaking) for me. In 1993, Chris, Rob, and myself made plans to go hiking on our 5 day break from school and work. We worked at Six Flags, and there was one week of the whole year where the park wasn't open and we were out of college classes. This one week was pretty much the only vacation that folks who weren't full time got, since we didn't get paid vacation, and in order to have time off, we had to get replacements to cover our shifts. This one week (5 days, actually) was followed by two weeks of what we called 'Hell Weeks' which for some reason, the management deemed necessary to the financial success of the park. These were weeks where high schools were still in session, but the park was open for daily operation. The daily attendance never got much higher than 3000-4000 people (it's 30,000 to 40,000 for a typical Saturday... somewhere between 15,000 and 20,000 for a regular weekday) ... and the park was staffed entirely by college students and fulltime employees from other departments. It's actually a pretty fun week most of the time, the supervisors bump down and work the rides along with some maintenance and admin types who never get out and work the rides... but it's also gruelling because it's 5 days of 12 hour days followed by regular weekend operation for two weeks. So everyone always looked forward to the one week where we could get out of town without having to stress about covering our shifts, plus the knowledge that we would have two fat paychecks waiting for us when we got back... it was usually 'get out of town week' .. .most folks went down to the coast or tubing on one of the Texas rivers. Well, we decided we were going to go backpacking in Colorado. I'd spent most of my grade school summers in Colorado with my grandparents in Estes Park, which is where the Rocky Mountain National Park is. So I was familiar with the mountains and hiking and nature. Chris and Rob had been backpacking two years in a row previous to 1993, and had an idea of where they wanted to go. I'd never heard of Durango, didn't know that there was a steam train in operation there, but Colorado + Steam Train + hiking = two thumbs up in my book and I was down with that decision.
We made a call to the managing Forest Ranger district and asked about trail conditions and weather to expect at that time of year (mid-May) and they said, "Well, if the snow has melted any at all by then, the trails will be so muddy that you will probably have a difficult time." That temporarily dampened our spirits, but we quickly made other plans to somewhere that snow wasn't a factor, and wound up going to the Superstition Mountains in the Tonto National Forest (Sonoran Desert) in Arizona.... always thinking in the back of our heads that we would some day make it on that trip to Durango and hike to the Chicago Basin and climb Windom Peak.
Years past, we made other trips to Colorado (Wilson Peak (twice), Snowmass, Mount Harvard, Mount Yale, Handies Peak, Mount Massive, Blanca) and other states (Arizona, Arkansas, Minnesota, Utah) and countries (Canada.) Every year, Chicago Basin was always a candidate, but almost invariably the time of year ruled out this trip. The train runs on a limited schedule after Labor Day, and as you'll see farther into the journal, you are at the mercy of the train on this trip. The only other way to get there is an additional 14 miles of hiking from the Purgatory Ski area.
So, this year, as we were waiting for our ride to show up a couple days early on our aborted Buffalo River canoe trip, we were discussing where we were going to go for our big trip this year. I suggested Colorado because it had been three years since we had been and I was missing it. I never really gave any other destination any serious thought. I'm not sure if Chris did. Once we settled on Colorado, we began our usual fastidious research into what mountains sounded climbable and enjoyable. I found several that I thought sounded good, including the Crestone group (which is a pretty desolate area, more desert than forest) some other 14,000 ft mountains in the Denver area which were high use and didn't offer much in the way of backpacking, and of course the ever-possible Chicago basin. This was the choice that appealed to both of us the most, and we said 'dammit... we're gonna do it this time.' So reservations were made and we booked our flight to Albuquerque, rented a car and drove up to Durango, which is now one of my favorite towns and I like it more every time I go.
We arrived in Durango in the afternoon on Aug 4 (Saturday) and went to check into the Best Western, lugged our massive luggage inside and went about our usual pre-trip errands, which ALWAYS includes a trip to the local outdoor store for last minute supplies and stove fuel, since we aren't allowed to carry flammable gasses under pressure on an airplane. So we picked up some fuel, a couple of freeze dried meals, snacks and other trail eats, and I got some sock liners (very thin socks that you wear inside your regular hiking socks which are supposed to wick moisture and prevent blisters.)
We decided to give ourselves an extra day so we don't have to travel on one day then start hiking the next. This is brilliant... it makes the whole trip much more relaxing and enjoyable. Especially in a town as cool as Durango. The second day we wanted to finish grocery shopping for food, snacks and other supplies we didn't get at the outdoor store (ziploc bags, toiletries, etc) and pack our gear into the backpacks. We had lunch at this neat little pizza joint in town called Farquart's where the wait staff was quite attractive. The pizza was ok, but I wasn't very hungry, so I only had two pieces. Altitude does funny things to me... the foremost on the list is that it kills my appetite. Later on, I regained my appetite and we had dinner at Steamworks, which is a microbrewery, much like Humperdinks, but FAR cooler. The waitstaff THERE was even HOTTER than Farquart's - it was whiplash-inducing because every 10 seconds another hot girl was walking by. The food was excellent, as well as the microbrews - and I usually don't like microbrews. I highly recommend the Engineer Light Lager. After dinner, we went back to the Best Western, and made final preparations for our hike the next morning.
Aug 6
We woke up in beds for the last time in several days, threw the luggage in the car and drove to the train station. One of the best things about this trip is that since we didn't have a lenghty drive to a trailhead on poorly maintained forest service roads, we saved a lot of time in the morning, and also didn't have to rent a 4WD SUV, which saved us a lot of money. We hit McDonalds next to the train station, dropped off our backpacks at the front of the station and Chris went to park the car and come back around. We threw our packs in the boxcar behind the engine, and found our seats. I'll be honest with you, the steam train ride is the part of this trip that I was most looking forward to, and the part I wound up enjoying the most. Having spent so many years as a conductor and an engineer on the train at Six Flags, I have become a steam train fan. It was quite cool on the ride up, being early in the morning, and in a gorge, the sun hadn't warmed up the air. We had left our jackets in the backpacks, which were up in the box car and we had no access to them. Chris went to get a coffee at the concession car. I decided against this option, as coffee sometimes does a number on my digestive tract and I didn't want any of that chaos going on while hiking.
Our Chariot!
Some pics I took during the hike to basecamp:
Long creek drainage
Needle Creek just below Chicago Basin
More Needle Creek
Lots of water
Clearly, Needle Creek is the big attraction of the hike from Needleton to the Chicago Basin. There aren't a lot of wide mountain vistas until you actually get up past the basin.
We finally made it up to the Chicago Basin after 6:00, and set about the process of selecting the perfect campsite. Variables to consider are: finding a flat spot big enough to put the tent on, protection from rain and wind, dry ground, nearby accessible water, and distance from other campsites. Secondary consideration was that we wanted a campsite high in the basin, which would make our hike the next day shorter and easier. As we plodded along, it became clear that there were so many people in the basin that we were not going to have our pick of campsites. As a matter of fact, it started to look like we may not even find a campsite. Every good site we found was occupied, or too close to another campsite. Many we saw might have been good but were sloped or muddy from the previous night's rain. At one point, we came across some mountain goats that were eating plants right on the trail. We slowly walked up to try to get past them, but they were ON the trail, and one of them, every step we took toward them took a step toward us, looking like it was getting ready to charge. So we opted to go off trail and go around it. We went a ways up the trail, realized that the basin was starting to taper off and we were running out of flat ground, so we turned around and headed back down into the basin. The goats were still there, and still annoyed by our presence. I said "Come on now... we both want the same thing - to be left alone." They didn't get it, so we went off trail again to avoid getting head-butted in the sack.
While looking for any place we could pitch our tent, we wandered across a campsite where two guys were camped who pointed us across the meadow to a site that had been vacated earlier that day that might work for us. One of the guys in the group was from Texas. Every time we camp in Colorado, we run into someone from Texas. It's weird.
Right about this time, it started to rain, so we decided that we'd best find an emergency campsite and get the tent up so we didn't get soaked. We slogged across the already-soaked meadow to the rock and trees that were pointed out to us earlier, put our packs down and started scoping out the area for the campsite that the guys had pointed out to us. A quick survey didn't really reveal anything appealing. We were about to pick up the packs and move on, when we both came to the conclusion that the place we had thrown our packs down on was as good as anything we had seen thus far. It was a little bit sloped, but it was on enough vegetation that we would be protected from moisture if it rained, unless the whole meadow were to flood. So we set about pulling everything we needed out of the packs, threw up the tent in record time, threw all our sleeping necesities inside (sleeping bag, pad, dry/clean clothes, toiletries, etc.) Right about the time we got everything set, and the packs put up in their protective covers, it really started to rain hard. We put the cooking gear close to the tent so we could cook from inside the tent.. then realized that we didn't have any water to cook with, and needed to refill our drinking bottles. So we put on the rain jackets, hobbled down to the creek, and filled up the dromedary water bladder and our water bottles and high tailed it back to the tent to get out of the rain.
As I was taking off my shoes and socks, I was wracked with cramps all up and down my legs. If I bent my leg one way to take my shoes off, it would cramp... then if I tried to stretch that one out, then the other side would cramp from that action. It was an excruciating process and it took me a good 10 minutes to take my shoes and socks off. Despite my best efforts to keep my electrolytes in balance, I had sweat too much and didn't eat enough during the day and I was paying the price at that point. Fortunately, I had a pack of sport beans handy (Jelly Belly makes them - essentially they're Gatorade in jelly bean form. Just drink water,) ripped those open ate them and drank some water. Within 15 minutes or so, the cramps had subsided. Damn lucky thing, because that would have been maybe the worst night ever if I kept getting cramps every time I moved my legs.
After we rested for 20 minutes or so, the adrenaline and endorphines from the hike subsided and we started to get hungry. Since it was still raining, we set up the stove outside my tent door and I got to work boiling the water for our freeze dried dinners. Mine was spaghetti with meat sauce, which is now my favorite freeze dried meal. We also ate inside the tent, it really hit the spot and I started feeling human again. Then it was time to just relax and stretch out. It was pretty early, and we didn't want to go to sleep too early, fearing that we'd be wide awake at 3:00 in the morning. But it was raining, so we couldn't spend any time outside the tent... so we spent the time packing our day packs for the climb the next day, writing in the journal, getting the sleeping bags straight on the sleeping pad, etc. Eventually, I was tired and ready to stop doing stuff and just wanted to lay down and hope I went to sleep. My MP3 player was along, and churning out Rush's new album, Snakes and Arrows, which I was listening to to familiarize myself with the songs because I would be going to the concert the day after we got back.
Aug 7
I won't bore you with my sleep woes. You've heard them before. I went back and read all the entries from all the trips in my journal and the previous journal. EVERY journal entry for the second day of EVERY trip says something to the effect of "Slept like crap. I always sleep like crap, especially on the first night." So from now on, unless I say something to the contrary, we'll just assume that I sleep like crap, especially on the first night. About an hour after we got done fiddling around with our gear and stuff and actually tried to go to sleep, we both were awakened by some strange lights in our area. It LOOKED like lightning, but there was absolutely no thunder. At first be both thought it was people messing with us with a flashlight, but it went on far too long, and it was lighting up both sides of our tent. Chris kept saying "we need to figure out what the hell that is!" ... I was like "feh. It's either lightning, or it's someone is playing with a flashlight. Either way, I'm going to sleep." But it was very frequent and very bright for lighting, considering we never heard any thunder. Odd.
We got up around 7:00 or so, ate breakfast in the tent, got dressed and started hiking. Our goal was to climb Windom Peak, which was the easiest of the 14,000 foot mountains in the area. We were not blessed with good weather - it was cloudy and threatening to rain. It had already been raining a lot the days prior, and the trail had been muddy or actually had running water on it most of the last 2 miles of the hike the day before... and this day was no different. The first hour or so of the hike was mostly in mud. We got up a little higher and the trail died out, but then it started to rain again. We gained a lot of alittide quickly, 500 feet or so in under half an hour. We worked our way up toward the next landmark, which was Twin Lakes Basin. Just below the basin, we ran into some Fourteeners Initiative folks who were doing trail maintenance. Looked like bloody difficult work. There were also several mountain goats who were hanging around them, like they were pets. We stopped to chat with one of the ladies who was working. Turned out she was from Minnesota and had been to the Boundary Waters (see last years's trip report) before, and used to work at Fitger's Brewery in Duluth, which is where we like to go to eat after our canoe trips up there. Small world.
She pointed us up the old, very steep trail to get to the Twin Lakes Basin, and we trudged on our way. A few hundred feet later, we made it to the top of the very steep trail, and I stopped to rest and eat something. After sitting there for about 10 minutes, I still hadn't caught my breath and started to get tunnel vision, which for me are the early warning signs of altitude sickness. I decided to wait a few more minutes to see if it went away. In the past, I have been quick to turn around on a climb due to altitude sickness, primarily because our old climbing parner, Rob was quite impatient and didn't care for my climbing pace. Knowing that a) I couldn't keep up with his pace and b) I couldn't and wouldn't climb alone, I would turn around when I started to feel it. Recently, I've found that if I take a little bit longer break and eat small snacks frequently to keep the energy level high but not bog down the digestive system, I have a more successful climbing day, bagging two peaks in the last three attempts, and only missing out on the third by about 20-30 feet because of jello-legs and some technical climbing. This time, I still didn't feel better after the longer break, plus I saw that some big weather was coming in and the tops of the mountains (only about 1000 feet above us) were starting to get licked by low-hanging clouds. The clouds continued to descend, and I knew it was time for me to turn around. As long as I knew that it would take me to make the rest of the climb, and the impending weather issues, I knew there was no way I was going to make the peak today, so there was no use in my climbing any further. I chose to turn around and go back to camp, letting Chris continue if he chose. I knew he'd move a lot faster than I would and he might still have a chance to make it. So I slowly picked my way back down the steep section (still dizzy from altitude sickness) and after about 300 feet or so started to feel better.
Some views during the climb:
Probably the best weather that day
We had to climb up next to this waterfall, it was pretty much straight up for 2-300 feet.
The view down from the top of the waterfall
Big weather coming in
Our destination, shrouded by clouds
Fourteeners Initiative, doing some backbreaking trail building
On the way up, Chris and I ran into the guys we had talked to the night before while looking for a campsite. They told us they were going to bug out a day early and we could have their campsite if we wanted it. I told Chris that I'd stop there on the way back and see if it was suitable, and if it was, I'd break down our camp and move it to their site. As I got closer to the tent the rain that had been drizzling most of the day really started in earnest. I went by the campsite in question and determined that it was a perfect campsite for two very small tents ... not one medium tent like we had. So I just scooted back to our campsite, peeled off my raingear, and got in the tent. I spent the next hour or so dozing on and off waiting for Chris to come back down. He eventually made it back and said he advanced another couple hundred feet or so then was nearly totally obscured in fog/clouds and had to turn around. So we spent the rest of the afternoon hiding in the tent hoping that the rain would stop so we could actually spend some time outside at the campsite. Eventually, it stopped raining long enough for us to go outside, we took that opportunity to do so. Nothing noteworthy happened, we just enjoyed the mountain basin we were in, some great scenery, the fresh air (not much smells better than the Colorado mountains after a summer rain.)
Eventually, it was time to cook dinner, which we did. It's pretty easy to cook dinner when all it consists of is boiling water and pouring that water into a foil pouch. But it's a LOT easier to do it when you're not trying to do it while inside the tent, worrying about fumes and flames. We both had some stew, and made some mashed potatoes as a side. Which was a little redundant, because the stew was mostly mashed potatoes anyway. But it tasted good and we were hungry.
Some point during the day, we decided that neither one of us had the motivation or energy to climb again the next day, so we made a command decision to pack up camp and head back down to Needleton the next morning. We were tired of getting rained on (third trip in a row in which it had rained more than half the time,) and figured that if we weren't going to climb, we might as well pack back down and see if there was room on the train for us to go back to Durango a day early. Since we knew that the guys we had talked to earlier left a day early and their tickets were for the next day, we thought there was a pretty good chance we could get on. If there wasn't room, we agreed that we'd rather camp down at Needleton than up in the basin again, and save ourselves the hike on the last day. So, preparations were made as best as we could to prepare for leaving in the morning, instead of the following day. Again, Nyquill, Aleve, and MP3 guided my journey to sleep. Again, not very well.
Aug 8
The last day rarely gets much fanfare. It's almost always over ground we've covered before, we're sore, tired, hungry, dirty, and just ready to get back to where we can take care of those needs. This time, we didn't have that assurance that we usually do (a vehicle at a trailhead to take us wherever we need to go.) There was a very good possibility that we'd have to pitch camp yet again and spend another night out in the wilderness. Not a BAD thing, really. But when you have been out for three days and get it in your mind that you are going to have a shower, a good meal, a beer, and a bed that night, it's very hard to accept the notion that you may not get those things. So that was internal anxiety building up for both of us.
We got a fairly early start and took off down the trail. We knew we'd have plenty of time, as the one train of the day that stops in Needleton wouldn't be there until 3:45. The hike up took us 7 hours, so we figured that it would take us somewhere between 3 and 4, since hiking downhill is faster, with fewer breaks necessary. We passed a lot of people coming up the trail as we were going down, so we thought our chances of getting on the train were pretty good (seats vacated by hikers going in would go to hikers coming out) ... we didn't see many people coming down, so we figured that would leave a lot of open seats. We got down to Needleton in about 4 hours, which was before the 2nd of four trains comes back down from Silverton. There were a couple groups that got there before us, but not enough to give us any concern. But as the afternoon passed, more and more people poured out, more than I thought were even out in the wilderness at all. As time passed, we got more and more anxious about not having a seat on the train, so we devised a plan that would, at the least, assure us the first spots available to anyone who didn't have a confirmed reservation for this day. Chris would make a beeline for the front of the train and I would go to the back, and we'd each be the first one to ask the conductor who jumped down if there was any room for someone with a reservation for a different day. By the time our train was about to come through, there were about 40 people waiting, and we were getting quite stressed over whether we were going to get on the train tonight or not. At this point, a hot meal and a beer was sounding exquisite, and freeze dried beef stroganoff was not going to hit the spot by a long shot. Neither was the hard ground and another night without a shower.
Taking it easy in the little bit of shade at Needleton waiting for the train
The train finally rolled into the Needleton stop and I scooted toward the back of the train, and Chris up to the front. I accosted the conductor as soon as he hopped off. He said they had plenty of room, just throw our stuff in the box car, and sit down wherever we found an open seat. So we did - we were hoping to find seats in an open air car, since we had been out and sweating for three days, we probably wouldn't be very pleasant to sit around in a closed car. We found two seats together in an open air car, sat down and relaxed for the first time all day. After we got moving, I determined that it was time for a Coke and a hot dog, so I wobbled up to the concession car, got in line, placed my order and guzzled my coke while the woman was still making our hot dogs. Fortunately, the cup I bought came with free refills, so I refilled and drank the rest of it in a more refined manner. The hot dog was passable - they put it on a whole wheat bun, which I wasn't very fond of. But it was just to tide us over on the three hour ride back to Durango. The ride itself was very enjoyable - we were treated to some amazing scenery, which we didn't get to see on the way up, since our seats were facing the other direction. This is where the majority of my pictures came from. I also got a little bit of sunburn on the back of my neck. Nothing serious.
Train trip scenery:
Don't.... breathe....
Blowout (a procedure that purges silt and sediment out of the boiler)
Animas River waterfall
Long way down
Wow
Site of a rock slide that a couple weeks prior to our trip, blocked the tracks for several days. Looks like it could slide again at any time.
Neat shot of the train
Eventually, we made it back to Durango, unloaded our gear from the freight car, and grabbed the rental car from the parking lot. The trip up the main strip to find a hotel room was a bit discouraging. There were a few people who did the same thing we did and didn't have hotel reservations for that night, plus it was busy tourist season, and rooms were scarce. Most places we passed had their NO VACANCY lights on. The first couple places we stopped that didn't have their lights on, there was a couple guys that we saw at the train stop at Needleton who were doing the same thing we were. We wound up finding a room in a dive of a hotel farther up the strip. At this point, we were less concerned with how nice the room was, and more with the fact that we just wanted a room.
The usual post-outdoors routine ensued... we hauled all our gear up to the tiny room, and decided who would get first crack at the shower. Chris said I could go first, since he had to call his wife. Worked for me, I was ready to de-funk. After we showered, we headed downtown for our traditional Durango post-hike meal at The Red Snapper, which is a seafood and steak place that we've gone to every time we've been to Durango. The first couple times we went, we were extremely impressed with the service and the food. This time, the service was not as good as we were accustomed to. I got a NY Strip steak and some bacon-wrapped scallops. Chris got the Filet Mignon and lobster tail. The food was very good, and the salad bar was wonderful. I am usually surprised at how good the salad is on our post-hike meals, and I finally figured out why - it's the first fresh food we eat in 4-5 days. It just assaults the pallate. Plus, it's a really GOOD salad bar they have at The Red Snapper. We split a bottle of Pinot Noir with dinner and were feeling pretty good, post-meal - like humans again. After dinner, we headed for Steamworks brewery again to look at women and drink their excellent microbrews.
The following day, we had a reservation at the Best Western we had stayed at before, but apparently, the same shortage of rooms was going on that day as it was the day before. Some bitch of a woman who was so intent on getting a room before we did nearly ran me over in the covered drive with her vehicle, then dove out of the car and ran for the door so she could get inside before me. She flopped her fat jugs on the counter and in between gasping for breath, she said "I need a room." The guy at the counter sneered at her and said "I'm sorry, we're all full." I had to laugh as she took the walk of shame out of the lobby, but not before we loudly announced to the clerk that we had reservations for the night.
Some Roundhouse/Museum pictures:
Roundhouse
Turntable
I tried to make this an artistic shot instead of just a picture of cool stuff. Didn't quite work out like I intended, but it still wound up being pretty neat.
Fireman Controls
Engineer Controls
After all the fun of the mountains that was had during the days prior, we decided to take it easy and be tourists the last day. We went up to Purgatory ski resort, which I had never seen before, and rode the alpine slide and had lunch at their cafe, then came back down to Durango and went to the steam train museum/roundhouse. We also watched the Bourne Supremacy at the local megaplex, then the last event of Durango 2007 was a return trip to Steamworks for dinner and lots of beer™. I had some pesto pasta, and Chris got the same blue cheese crusted steak that we both had a few days before. And we had lots of beer™.
The next day was our drive back to Albuquerque to fly home. It was pretty uneventful and mostly boring. Same for the flight home, though we DID meet some VERY attractive women while waiting to board the plane, which was late. The flight home was also uneventful, except for the fact that it was full and we were the last ones to get on board. I sat on the very last row, aisle seat. This was fine, as all I wanted to do was listen to my MP3 player and zone out.
Overall, it was a good trip. I love the San Juan mountains - every time I go I remember how majestic and wild they are, and never get tired of going. I'm glad we finally got to take the trip we had planned on for so long, but I'll be honest, I'm ok with never going back to the Chicago Basin. I love the solitude of going out on our camping trips, and this area was so highly used that we never really felt any bit of solitude.
We made a call to the managing Forest Ranger district and asked about trail conditions and weather to expect at that time of year (mid-May) and they said, "Well, if the snow has melted any at all by then, the trails will be so muddy that you will probably have a difficult time." That temporarily dampened our spirits, but we quickly made other plans to somewhere that snow wasn't a factor, and wound up going to the Superstition Mountains in the Tonto National Forest (Sonoran Desert) in Arizona.... always thinking in the back of our heads that we would some day make it on that trip to Durango and hike to the Chicago Basin and climb Windom Peak.
Years past, we made other trips to Colorado (Wilson Peak (twice), Snowmass, Mount Harvard, Mount Yale, Handies Peak, Mount Massive, Blanca) and other states (Arizona, Arkansas, Minnesota, Utah) and countries (Canada.) Every year, Chicago Basin was always a candidate, but almost invariably the time of year ruled out this trip. The train runs on a limited schedule after Labor Day, and as you'll see farther into the journal, you are at the mercy of the train on this trip. The only other way to get there is an additional 14 miles of hiking from the Purgatory Ski area.
So, this year, as we were waiting for our ride to show up a couple days early on our aborted Buffalo River canoe trip, we were discussing where we were going to go for our big trip this year. I suggested Colorado because it had been three years since we had been and I was missing it. I never really gave any other destination any serious thought. I'm not sure if Chris did. Once we settled on Colorado, we began our usual fastidious research into what mountains sounded climbable and enjoyable. I found several that I thought sounded good, including the Crestone group (which is a pretty desolate area, more desert than forest) some other 14,000 ft mountains in the Denver area which were high use and didn't offer much in the way of backpacking, and of course the ever-possible Chicago basin. This was the choice that appealed to both of us the most, and we said 'dammit... we're gonna do it this time.' So reservations were made and we booked our flight to Albuquerque, rented a car and drove up to Durango, which is now one of my favorite towns and I like it more every time I go.
We arrived in Durango in the afternoon on Aug 4 (Saturday) and went to check into the Best Western, lugged our massive luggage inside and went about our usual pre-trip errands, which ALWAYS includes a trip to the local outdoor store for last minute supplies and stove fuel, since we aren't allowed to carry flammable gasses under pressure on an airplane. So we picked up some fuel, a couple of freeze dried meals, snacks and other trail eats, and I got some sock liners (very thin socks that you wear inside your regular hiking socks which are supposed to wick moisture and prevent blisters.)
We decided to give ourselves an extra day so we don't have to travel on one day then start hiking the next. This is brilliant... it makes the whole trip much more relaxing and enjoyable. Especially in a town as cool as Durango. The second day we wanted to finish grocery shopping for food, snacks and other supplies we didn't get at the outdoor store (ziploc bags, toiletries, etc) and pack our gear into the backpacks. We had lunch at this neat little pizza joint in town called Farquart's where the wait staff was quite attractive. The pizza was ok, but I wasn't very hungry, so I only had two pieces. Altitude does funny things to me... the foremost on the list is that it kills my appetite. Later on, I regained my appetite and we had dinner at Steamworks, which is a microbrewery, much like Humperdinks, but FAR cooler. The waitstaff THERE was even HOTTER than Farquart's - it was whiplash-inducing because every 10 seconds another hot girl was walking by. The food was excellent, as well as the microbrews - and I usually don't like microbrews. I highly recommend the Engineer Light Lager. After dinner, we went back to the Best Western, and made final preparations for our hike the next morning.
Aug 6
We woke up in beds for the last time in several days, threw the luggage in the car and drove to the train station. One of the best things about this trip is that since we didn't have a lenghty drive to a trailhead on poorly maintained forest service roads, we saved a lot of time in the morning, and also didn't have to rent a 4WD SUV, which saved us a lot of money. We hit McDonalds next to the train station, dropped off our backpacks at the front of the station and Chris went to park the car and come back around. We threw our packs in the boxcar behind the engine, and found our seats. I'll be honest with you, the steam train ride is the part of this trip that I was most looking forward to, and the part I wound up enjoying the most. Having spent so many years as a conductor and an engineer on the train at Six Flags, I have become a steam train fan. It was quite cool on the ride up, being early in the morning, and in a gorge, the sun hadn't warmed up the air. We had left our jackets in the backpacks, which were up in the box car and we had no access to them. Chris went to get a coffee at the concession car. I decided against this option, as coffee sometimes does a number on my digestive tract and I didn't want any of that chaos going on while hiking.
Our Chariot!
The end of steam powered locomotion, the beginning of leg muscle powered locomotion.
There was a lot of great scenery on the train ride, but our seats were facing the gorge wall, insted of into the gorge itself, so we didn't get the grand vistas that the other side of the train did. But it was still some pretty spectacular stuff, and we were suitably awed. Most hiking trips, I get some form of anxiety or something that makes me ill-at-ease the first morning of the hike. I don't know what it is, but I frequently feel nauseated or have an upset stomach the first morning of a hike. The last time we were in Colorado, I spent about 20 minutes on the floor in the bathroom of the hotel either throwing up or waiting to throw up. This time, I felt great, was in good spirits and was ready to tackle the hike ahead. So when the train pulled into Needleton and we were herded out of the car by the conductor, we were pretty eager to get our packs and start up the trail. So were the other 20 people who were doing the same thing (told you this was a high use area.) I'm a slow hiker, so we wanted to get a quick start and get ahead of the mass that was leaving the same time as we were, because of the high--use nature of the area. We didn't want to get stuck with a crappy camp site, so we figured a quick start would be better. So we lashed down all the straps, did some stretchings, tied the shoe laces, and hit the trail, ahead of about 2/3 of the bunch. We only brought one water bottle apiece because we knew we'd be hiking next to Needle Creek all the way up to the basin and would have access to water whenever we needed it. This made the pack a few pounds lighter than usual - and indeed the packs seemed as light as I've ever carried it except for one morning the last trip to the Grand Canyon, when we were out of water entirely.
For almost a full mile, the trail was either flat or slightly downhill until we actually got to the Needle Creek Trailhead, then it turned uphill. Fortunately, even though this hike was over 7 miles and almost all up hill, it never got really steep and brutal. The trail itself would not be the killer this day, instead it was the heat. Aside from our first trip to Arizona, this was the hottest I've ever been on a hiking trip. I was sweating profusely and had to fill up my water bottle twice. Also, since I ate a very small breakfast, I kept running out of fuel and had to force myself to eat (recall that altitude kills my appetite.) We've done longer hikes, more physically demanding hikes, and steeper hikes before. But I was just as drained after we reached the Chicago basin this time as any other hike previously because it was so warm. I did my best to choose snacks that had sodium and potassium to keep my electrolytes in balance since I knew it was going to be warm.Some pics I took during the hike to basecamp:
Long creek drainage
Needle Creek just below Chicago Basin
More Needle Creek
Lots of water
Clearly, Needle Creek is the big attraction of the hike from Needleton to the Chicago Basin. There aren't a lot of wide mountain vistas until you actually get up past the basin.
We finally made it up to the Chicago Basin after 6:00, and set about the process of selecting the perfect campsite. Variables to consider are: finding a flat spot big enough to put the tent on, protection from rain and wind, dry ground, nearby accessible water, and distance from other campsites. Secondary consideration was that we wanted a campsite high in the basin, which would make our hike the next day shorter and easier. As we plodded along, it became clear that there were so many people in the basin that we were not going to have our pick of campsites. As a matter of fact, it started to look like we may not even find a campsite. Every good site we found was occupied, or too close to another campsite. Many we saw might have been good but were sloped or muddy from the previous night's rain. At one point, we came across some mountain goats that were eating plants right on the trail. We slowly walked up to try to get past them, but they were ON the trail, and one of them, every step we took toward them took a step toward us, looking like it was getting ready to charge. So we opted to go off trail and go around it. We went a ways up the trail, realized that the basin was starting to taper off and we were running out of flat ground, so we turned around and headed back down into the basin. The goats were still there, and still annoyed by our presence. I said "Come on now... we both want the same thing - to be left alone." They didn't get it, so we went off trail again to avoid getting head-butted in the sack.
While looking for any place we could pitch our tent, we wandered across a campsite where two guys were camped who pointed us across the meadow to a site that had been vacated earlier that day that might work for us. One of the guys in the group was from Texas. Every time we camp in Colorado, we run into someone from Texas. It's weird.
Right about this time, it started to rain, so we decided that we'd best find an emergency campsite and get the tent up so we didn't get soaked. We slogged across the already-soaked meadow to the rock and trees that were pointed out to us earlier, put our packs down and started scoping out the area for the campsite that the guys had pointed out to us. A quick survey didn't really reveal anything appealing. We were about to pick up the packs and move on, when we both came to the conclusion that the place we had thrown our packs down on was as good as anything we had seen thus far. It was a little bit sloped, but it was on enough vegetation that we would be protected from moisture if it rained, unless the whole meadow were to flood. So we set about pulling everything we needed out of the packs, threw up the tent in record time, threw all our sleeping necesities inside (sleeping bag, pad, dry/clean clothes, toiletries, etc.) Right about the time we got everything set, and the packs put up in their protective covers, it really started to rain hard. We put the cooking gear close to the tent so we could cook from inside the tent.. then realized that we didn't have any water to cook with, and needed to refill our drinking bottles. So we put on the rain jackets, hobbled down to the creek, and filled up the dromedary water bladder and our water bottles and high tailed it back to the tent to get out of the rain.
As I was taking off my shoes and socks, I was wracked with cramps all up and down my legs. If I bent my leg one way to take my shoes off, it would cramp... then if I tried to stretch that one out, then the other side would cramp from that action. It was an excruciating process and it took me a good 10 minutes to take my shoes and socks off. Despite my best efforts to keep my electrolytes in balance, I had sweat too much and didn't eat enough during the day and I was paying the price at that point. Fortunately, I had a pack of sport beans handy (Jelly Belly makes them - essentially they're Gatorade in jelly bean form. Just drink water,) ripped those open ate them and drank some water. Within 15 minutes or so, the cramps had subsided. Damn lucky thing, because that would have been maybe the worst night ever if I kept getting cramps every time I moved my legs.
After we rested for 20 minutes or so, the adrenaline and endorphines from the hike subsided and we started to get hungry. Since it was still raining, we set up the stove outside my tent door and I got to work boiling the water for our freeze dried dinners. Mine was spaghetti with meat sauce, which is now my favorite freeze dried meal. We also ate inside the tent, it really hit the spot and I started feeling human again. Then it was time to just relax and stretch out. It was pretty early, and we didn't want to go to sleep too early, fearing that we'd be wide awake at 3:00 in the morning. But it was raining, so we couldn't spend any time outside the tent... so we spent the time packing our day packs for the climb the next day, writing in the journal, getting the sleeping bags straight on the sleeping pad, etc. Eventually, I was tired and ready to stop doing stuff and just wanted to lay down and hope I went to sleep. My MP3 player was along, and churning out Rush's new album, Snakes and Arrows, which I was listening to to familiarize myself with the songs because I would be going to the concert the day after we got back.
Aug 7
I won't bore you with my sleep woes. You've heard them before. I went back and read all the entries from all the trips in my journal and the previous journal. EVERY journal entry for the second day of EVERY trip says something to the effect of "Slept like crap. I always sleep like crap, especially on the first night." So from now on, unless I say something to the contrary, we'll just assume that I sleep like crap, especially on the first night. About an hour after we got done fiddling around with our gear and stuff and actually tried to go to sleep, we both were awakened by some strange lights in our area. It LOOKED like lightning, but there was absolutely no thunder. At first be both thought it was people messing with us with a flashlight, but it went on far too long, and it was lighting up both sides of our tent. Chris kept saying "we need to figure out what the hell that is!" ... I was like "feh. It's either lightning, or it's someone is playing with a flashlight. Either way, I'm going to sleep." But it was very frequent and very bright for lighting, considering we never heard any thunder. Odd.
We got up around 7:00 or so, ate breakfast in the tent, got dressed and started hiking. Our goal was to climb Windom Peak, which was the easiest of the 14,000 foot mountains in the area. We were not blessed with good weather - it was cloudy and threatening to rain. It had already been raining a lot the days prior, and the trail had been muddy or actually had running water on it most of the last 2 miles of the hike the day before... and this day was no different. The first hour or so of the hike was mostly in mud. We got up a little higher and the trail died out, but then it started to rain again. We gained a lot of alittide quickly, 500 feet or so in under half an hour. We worked our way up toward the next landmark, which was Twin Lakes Basin. Just below the basin, we ran into some Fourteeners Initiative folks who were doing trail maintenance. Looked like bloody difficult work. There were also several mountain goats who were hanging around them, like they were pets. We stopped to chat with one of the ladies who was working. Turned out she was from Minnesota and had been to the Boundary Waters (see last years's trip report) before, and used to work at Fitger's Brewery in Duluth, which is where we like to go to eat after our canoe trips up there. Small world.
She pointed us up the old, very steep trail to get to the Twin Lakes Basin, and we trudged on our way. A few hundred feet later, we made it to the top of the very steep trail, and I stopped to rest and eat something. After sitting there for about 10 minutes, I still hadn't caught my breath and started to get tunnel vision, which for me are the early warning signs of altitude sickness. I decided to wait a few more minutes to see if it went away. In the past, I have been quick to turn around on a climb due to altitude sickness, primarily because our old climbing parner, Rob was quite impatient and didn't care for my climbing pace. Knowing that a) I couldn't keep up with his pace and b) I couldn't and wouldn't climb alone, I would turn around when I started to feel it. Recently, I've found that if I take a little bit longer break and eat small snacks frequently to keep the energy level high but not bog down the digestive system, I have a more successful climbing day, bagging two peaks in the last three attempts, and only missing out on the third by about 20-30 feet because of jello-legs and some technical climbing. This time, I still didn't feel better after the longer break, plus I saw that some big weather was coming in and the tops of the mountains (only about 1000 feet above us) were starting to get licked by low-hanging clouds. The clouds continued to descend, and I knew it was time for me to turn around. As long as I knew that it would take me to make the rest of the climb, and the impending weather issues, I knew there was no way I was going to make the peak today, so there was no use in my climbing any further. I chose to turn around and go back to camp, letting Chris continue if he chose. I knew he'd move a lot faster than I would and he might still have a chance to make it. So I slowly picked my way back down the steep section (still dizzy from altitude sickness) and after about 300 feet or so started to feel better.
Some views during the climb:
Probably the best weather that day
We had to climb up next to this waterfall, it was pretty much straight up for 2-300 feet.
The view down from the top of the waterfall
Big weather coming in
Our destination, shrouded by clouds
Fourteeners Initiative, doing some backbreaking trail building
On the way up, Chris and I ran into the guys we had talked to the night before while looking for a campsite. They told us they were going to bug out a day early and we could have their campsite if we wanted it. I told Chris that I'd stop there on the way back and see if it was suitable, and if it was, I'd break down our camp and move it to their site. As I got closer to the tent the rain that had been drizzling most of the day really started in earnest. I went by the campsite in question and determined that it was a perfect campsite for two very small tents ... not one medium tent like we had. So I just scooted back to our campsite, peeled off my raingear, and got in the tent. I spent the next hour or so dozing on and off waiting for Chris to come back down. He eventually made it back and said he advanced another couple hundred feet or so then was nearly totally obscured in fog/clouds and had to turn around. So we spent the rest of the afternoon hiding in the tent hoping that the rain would stop so we could actually spend some time outside at the campsite. Eventually, it stopped raining long enough for us to go outside, we took that opportunity to do so. Nothing noteworthy happened, we just enjoyed the mountain basin we were in, some great scenery, the fresh air (not much smells better than the Colorado mountains after a summer rain.)
Eventually, it was time to cook dinner, which we did. It's pretty easy to cook dinner when all it consists of is boiling water and pouring that water into a foil pouch. But it's a LOT easier to do it when you're not trying to do it while inside the tent, worrying about fumes and flames. We both had some stew, and made some mashed potatoes as a side. Which was a little redundant, because the stew was mostly mashed potatoes anyway. But it tasted good and we were hungry.
Some point during the day, we decided that neither one of us had the motivation or energy to climb again the next day, so we made a command decision to pack up camp and head back down to Needleton the next morning. We were tired of getting rained on (third trip in a row in which it had rained more than half the time,) and figured that if we weren't going to climb, we might as well pack back down and see if there was room on the train for us to go back to Durango a day early. Since we knew that the guys we had talked to earlier left a day early and their tickets were for the next day, we thought there was a pretty good chance we could get on. If there wasn't room, we agreed that we'd rather camp down at Needleton than up in the basin again, and save ourselves the hike on the last day. So, preparations were made as best as we could to prepare for leaving in the morning, instead of the following day. Again, Nyquill, Aleve, and MP3 guided my journey to sleep. Again, not very well.
Aug 8
The last day rarely gets much fanfare. It's almost always over ground we've covered before, we're sore, tired, hungry, dirty, and just ready to get back to where we can take care of those needs. This time, we didn't have that assurance that we usually do (a vehicle at a trailhead to take us wherever we need to go.) There was a very good possibility that we'd have to pitch camp yet again and spend another night out in the wilderness. Not a BAD thing, really. But when you have been out for three days and get it in your mind that you are going to have a shower, a good meal, a beer, and a bed that night, it's very hard to accept the notion that you may not get those things. So that was internal anxiety building up for both of us.
We got a fairly early start and took off down the trail. We knew we'd have plenty of time, as the one train of the day that stops in Needleton wouldn't be there until 3:45. The hike up took us 7 hours, so we figured that it would take us somewhere between 3 and 4, since hiking downhill is faster, with fewer breaks necessary. We passed a lot of people coming up the trail as we were going down, so we thought our chances of getting on the train were pretty good (seats vacated by hikers going in would go to hikers coming out) ... we didn't see many people coming down, so we figured that would leave a lot of open seats. We got down to Needleton in about 4 hours, which was before the 2nd of four trains comes back down from Silverton. There were a couple groups that got there before us, but not enough to give us any concern. But as the afternoon passed, more and more people poured out, more than I thought were even out in the wilderness at all. As time passed, we got more and more anxious about not having a seat on the train, so we devised a plan that would, at the least, assure us the first spots available to anyone who didn't have a confirmed reservation for this day. Chris would make a beeline for the front of the train and I would go to the back, and we'd each be the first one to ask the conductor who jumped down if there was any room for someone with a reservation for a different day. By the time our train was about to come through, there were about 40 people waiting, and we were getting quite stressed over whether we were going to get on the train tonight or not. At this point, a hot meal and a beer was sounding exquisite, and freeze dried beef stroganoff was not going to hit the spot by a long shot. Neither was the hard ground and another night without a shower.
Taking it easy in the little bit of shade at Needleton waiting for the train
The train finally rolled into the Needleton stop and I scooted toward the back of the train, and Chris up to the front. I accosted the conductor as soon as he hopped off. He said they had plenty of room, just throw our stuff in the box car, and sit down wherever we found an open seat. So we did - we were hoping to find seats in an open air car, since we had been out and sweating for three days, we probably wouldn't be very pleasant to sit around in a closed car. We found two seats together in an open air car, sat down and relaxed for the first time all day. After we got moving, I determined that it was time for a Coke and a hot dog, so I wobbled up to the concession car, got in line, placed my order and guzzled my coke while the woman was still making our hot dogs. Fortunately, the cup I bought came with free refills, so I refilled and drank the rest of it in a more refined manner. The hot dog was passable - they put it on a whole wheat bun, which I wasn't very fond of. But it was just to tide us over on the three hour ride back to Durango. The ride itself was very enjoyable - we were treated to some amazing scenery, which we didn't get to see on the way up, since our seats were facing the other direction. This is where the majority of my pictures came from. I also got a little bit of sunburn on the back of my neck. Nothing serious.
Train trip scenery:
Don't.... breathe....
Blowout (a procedure that purges silt and sediment out of the boiler)
Animas River waterfall
Long way down
Wow
Site of a rock slide that a couple weeks prior to our trip, blocked the tracks for several days. Looks like it could slide again at any time.
Neat shot of the train
Eventually, we made it back to Durango, unloaded our gear from the freight car, and grabbed the rental car from the parking lot. The trip up the main strip to find a hotel room was a bit discouraging. There were a few people who did the same thing we did and didn't have hotel reservations for that night, plus it was busy tourist season, and rooms were scarce. Most places we passed had their NO VACANCY lights on. The first couple places we stopped that didn't have their lights on, there was a couple guys that we saw at the train stop at Needleton who were doing the same thing we were. We wound up finding a room in a dive of a hotel farther up the strip. At this point, we were less concerned with how nice the room was, and more with the fact that we just wanted a room.
The usual post-outdoors routine ensued... we hauled all our gear up to the tiny room, and decided who would get first crack at the shower. Chris said I could go first, since he had to call his wife. Worked for me, I was ready to de-funk. After we showered, we headed downtown for our traditional Durango post-hike meal at The Red Snapper, which is a seafood and steak place that we've gone to every time we've been to Durango. The first couple times we went, we were extremely impressed with the service and the food. This time, the service was not as good as we were accustomed to. I got a NY Strip steak and some bacon-wrapped scallops. Chris got the Filet Mignon and lobster tail. The food was very good, and the salad bar was wonderful. I am usually surprised at how good the salad is on our post-hike meals, and I finally figured out why - it's the first fresh food we eat in 4-5 days. It just assaults the pallate. Plus, it's a really GOOD salad bar they have at The Red Snapper. We split a bottle of Pinot Noir with dinner and were feeling pretty good, post-meal - like humans again. After dinner, we headed for Steamworks brewery again to look at women and drink their excellent microbrews.
The following day, we had a reservation at the Best Western we had stayed at before, but apparently, the same shortage of rooms was going on that day as it was the day before. Some bitch of a woman who was so intent on getting a room before we did nearly ran me over in the covered drive with her vehicle, then dove out of the car and ran for the door so she could get inside before me. She flopped her fat jugs on the counter and in between gasping for breath, she said "I need a room." The guy at the counter sneered at her and said "I'm sorry, we're all full." I had to laugh as she took the walk of shame out of the lobby, but not before we loudly announced to the clerk that we had reservations for the night.
Some Roundhouse/Museum pictures:
Roundhouse
Turntable
I tried to make this an artistic shot instead of just a picture of cool stuff. Didn't quite work out like I intended, but it still wound up being pretty neat.
Fireman Controls
Engineer Controls
After all the fun of the mountains that was had during the days prior, we decided to take it easy and be tourists the last day. We went up to Purgatory ski resort, which I had never seen before, and rode the alpine slide and had lunch at their cafe, then came back down to Durango and went to the steam train museum/roundhouse. We also watched the Bourne Supremacy at the local megaplex, then the last event of Durango 2007 was a return trip to Steamworks for dinner and lots of beer™. I had some pesto pasta, and Chris got the same blue cheese crusted steak that we both had a few days before. And we had lots of beer™.
The next day was our drive back to Albuquerque to fly home. It was pretty uneventful and mostly boring. Same for the flight home, though we DID meet some VERY attractive women while waiting to board the plane, which was late. The flight home was also uneventful, except for the fact that it was full and we were the last ones to get on board. I sat on the very last row, aisle seat. This was fine, as all I wanted to do was listen to my MP3 player and zone out.
Overall, it was a good trip. I love the San Juan mountains - every time I go I remember how majestic and wild they are, and never get tired of going. I'm glad we finally got to take the trip we had planned on for so long, but I'll be honest, I'm ok with never going back to the Chicago Basin. I love the solitude of going out on our camping trips, and this area was so highly used that we never really felt any bit of solitude.
posted by Jeremy at 8/20/2007 08:10:00 PM
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