CDT - Muddy Pass to Seedhouse Campground

Published on 2022-07-09 by Michael Stanton

To go back to days 79 and before, click here.

40.7 miles, 6292 feet elevation gain.

July 9, Day 80

First a walk on the highway for a bit, then into the trees on good trail heading north.

I'd figured out the bus system, and was happy that I could spend a last night in town and know that I'd have a cheap bus ride in the morning to Muddy Pass. I was also excited to be travelling north again. The Giardia infection seemed to be under control, too (sort of).

Soon I was walking the road for a few miles, then left it for a smaller road leading to Rabbit Ears Pass, next to a campground and lake (Dumont Lake). I was able to use a privy at the lake, what a luxury!

Looking back south on Lake Elmo, one of many attractive lakes here.

From here, the trail goes through pleasant if somewhat nondescript country in a meandering way north. I passed many lakes, like Round Lake, Little Lost Lake and Grizzly Lake. The land slowly climbed higher, finally reaching parkland above thicker forest in the afternoon.

I passed a powerline and radio tower, then reached Buffalo Pass and Summit Lake with aching feet in the early evening. I thought about camping at Summit Lake, but it seemed quite troublesome, with a system of monies, envelopes, notices, deposit boxes. So after filling water at the stream, I wandered up and into the Mount Zirkel Wilderness to spend the night. I found a relatively flat spot between snow patches in the forest, and quickly zipped myself up in the tent to escape the evening mosquitoes.

It would be my last night sleeping out of doors.

July 10, Day 81

A beautiful journey over Lost Ranger Peak.

I was up early and on my way in the Mount Zirkel Wilderness. It was nice that it hadn't rained during the night, a nice contrast with the weather in the previous stage. The crest is also called the Park Range. It was nice to walk along it, though there were quite a few snow patches, sometimes rather thick. Climbing up onto a patch then back down reminded me somewhat of the San Juans.

An early morning walk along the crest. Mount Ethel is in the distance. I'll skirt the summit on the right side making for the still higher Lost Ranger Peak.

Circle-K is out early, too.

Dropping into a shallow valley, now facing somewhat west.

Circle-K and I.

Circle-K passed me in here. She was planning to walk all the way to the Wyoming border today. Wow! I'd last seen her in Salida at the interesting little garage where hikers are allowed to sleep. I made sure to get a picture with her, because I was becoming increasingly sure that I was going to leave the trail.

There were a mix of reasons. I wrote about them on the blog ("I'm going home soon", and "What was it?"). The bear problem loomed really large for me at the time, but really, I was simply exhausted and missing my meditation practice. I just wasn't looking forward to the upper half of the trail.

If I were to do it again, I'd say two things:

1. Plan for periods of no enthusiasm, and have a few strategies to deploy that help. Probably something like a longer town stay with some luxuries.
2. Hike less per day to ensure meditation time. In fact, just never skip meditation. Once you lose the habit, it's very hard to regain it. But the habit itself keeps you happy, so it's a serious requirement.

My problem was that I'd simply never encountered 1., and it was so tempting to use every hour to move north, that by the time I realized the importance of the loss of meditation, I just wanted to come home to repair the deficit.

Regarding the bear concern, I think you just have to trust the odds, provided you never eat where you camp. I'm simply too near to a long hospital stay (2 years before) to be sanguine about those odds. Long hospital stays are no fun, and even the slight risk of that happening again felt like too much.

So, as I walked I realized it was a kind of goodbye hike. The country was gorgeous. Granite domes and alpine parks. Not very spiky, rather a broad and forgiving high country whose big elevation changes are masked by their slow approach and diminishment. Lost Ranger Peak and Mount Ethel looked very far away, but very appealing.

A nice view of Lake Elbert, with an unnamed mesa-like peak behind.

Somehow this country reminds me of the Trinity Alps in California (I only know it through pictures).

Looking southwest to the country of Horse Thief Park and Steamboat Springs behind in the haze.

Looking ahead to the giant of the region, Lost Ranger Peak.

On the slopes of the giant, with the snowy northern tresses of Ethel Peak on the left.

Looking generally east, with the peaks of my previous stage getting some mid-day showers.

Into the mysterious north. The viewshed here is enormous, with Mount Zirkel and the small but sharp Sawtooth Range, avoided by the CDT which sticks to lower country on the left (west) side.

Truly, the country was gorgeous. Maybe the name influenced me a lot, but Lost Ranger Peak was a special place. Looking down to the parks in the north, the thin spruce trees gave me a wistful feeling, and I thought of winter up here.

I'd finally become part of this sort of continental landscape I always wondered about. I knew it. And now it was time to turn decisively home.

I'll leave the crest in the green snow-bespeckled park to turn west into the valley.

Still, the crest beckons...

I took a lot of pictures here. I liked the way the green parkland slowly became more defined/detailed.

Getting closer...

A look back up to Lost Ranger.

Now I'm down from the parkland and into a section of burned forest west of the crest.

Lush and Pecarino came hopping along the trail. We walked together for a while. I was flagging in afternoon heat in the burnt forest, and Lush was a good conversation partner to keep me moving. I was enjoying myself, but when I think back on our conversation I see that I was constantly raising questions like "why shouldn't we live at depth instead of skimming the surface?" And getting answers back like "I don't think so much about it, I just live." And those answers didn't sit with me.

In truth, I was arguing with myself and Lush was (sorry!) kind of an observer to the process. I was deciding that it is better to live at depth, and that depth required me to leave. After an hour or so, I was pretty sure: reach the Seedhouse Campground, and make my way back to Steamboat Springs, which will be much easier than trying to get a ride from Encampment Wyoming back to Colorado. Some people walking by had told me that. I don't know if they were correct, but my mind siezed on that.

All at once I was sick of sleeping out. In fact sick of the whole thing...

So when a car drove by on the road about 2 miles from the Seedhouse Campground I stuck out my thumb. Let's go, I thought!

The couple in the car had to arrange things a bit to give me space in the back seat, but soon we were underway.

They brought me to their campsite. I said thanks and went back to the road wondering if I should sleep here tonight and try to hitch further in the morning. I even toyed with the idea of continuing. I'd reach the border in early afternoon of another day of walking.

Nah! When a truck drove by, I hitched.

This got me to a little restaurant on the road to Steamboat. I ate some snacks here, probably bought some ice cream. Then another hitch got me to town.

After one more stay at the same hotel, I was up early for the bus to Denver. The next day I was on a plane to Oklahoma City to visit Cathy and Tamara.

Back to regular life with my sister, the local game warden, and an embarrassed cow.

"Well, I'm back."

To go forward to days 82 and after, click here.