I just watched Along the Way | Continental Divide Trail Documentary | Full Film on YouTube. I searched for videos about the Continental Divide trail after writing my last blog post about how inspiring it was to see two men on the CDT near Hope Pass.
I watched it eagerly awaiting the places I’ve been on the CDT specially last weekend at Twin Lakes but also living near it in Winter Park/Granby, Steamboat Springs, Yellowstone and Glacier National Park.
There were no shots from Hope Pass or Twin Lakes, Berthoud Pass or Grand Lake. There was a long section from the grocery store in Steamboat Springs, yes I knew it well.
Regardless a great story and footage of their trek.
I love a good closing epigraph and they served it up well. A lesson to live every moment, take chances and be where you want to be – which is strikingly fitting now. Get ready to be motivated; here’s the ending:
“For soon this experience will be some old photograph, some old story…. You can walk to Canada, congrats Boys ……
Despite doing what I set out to do, making it to the end, passing the final test – those feelings of joy, pride, relief, didn’t fully satisfy me because I wasn’t hiking for Canada or some piece of concrete that marks borders, for the end. It was all for the chance to have those moments in between.
So If you ever find yourself on a walk, far from home, do me a favor make your life happen, be brave, challenge yourself, leave your comfort zone. Go see the grand distance places, let the process run its course.
Above all enjoy the little moments along the way.”
I spent the night in a cabin at Twin Lakes. I have the cabin for two nights and it’s a few miles from the trailhead for Hope Pass, which will be my second hike in two days.
On Saturday morning I was still recovering from the 10 mile hike in RMNP from yesterday and getting used to elevation. Twin Lakes sits at 9,600 ft and today my plan is to finally get to Hope Pass, 12,600 feet, after two Leadville 100 DNFs.
I found a restaurant that was open with a breakfast buffet. Similarly to how I felt last year the morning of my Grinnell Glacier hike, I needed eggs and coffee to get in the right mindset for the hike. The breakfast in Twin Lakes was okay but the eggs were a bit gross with tomatoes in them. The best part was the coffee and the pastry. Regardless, it gave me what I needed to get going.
I drove to the Willis Gulch Trailhead and started hiking. Two years ago I started this but didn’t go much farther than the CDT Trail.
I hiked to the CD Trail and headed south to Hope Pass.
A little way in I saw two bearded men hiking towards me with full packs. I got a bit choked up because I was so impressed that they were doing this super long trail; I wished I could be doing it, too. They wore a CDT badge on their shoulder strap. I asked them how long they’ve been on the trail and they said it’s been so long they lost count. They smiled, clearly happy to be on the trail.
I kept on and hiked slowly like yesterday. I kept thinking “what was I thinking” – when training for Leadville 100 and living at sea-level. I remember what I felt like at mile 38 during the 100 mile race and I couldn’t imagine running this trail to Hope Pass over and back in order to finish. I just never made it this far to know what I as in for. Today when saw runners heading up the Pass, I was in awe.
Hope Pass was fantastic. It wasn’t what it looked like in any the Leadville pictures but loved being there.
I headed down after a break and only wore a jacket to protect my skin. It was perfect hiking weather and only one patch of snow to cross.
I passed many heading up: hikers, runners, kids, dogs. All so happy to be out on the this gorgeous Saturday.
I had to pay attention and look for the sharp left turn to Willis Gulch Trail from the CDT. And it was a mile back to my car.
I was thrilled to make it to the top, and altitude sickness/headache subsided after getting down. The elevation is no joke and 3,330 feet of elevation gain.
I got back to my cabin and didn’t want to stay another night. I booked a hotel closer to the airport so I showered and packed up the car to head back to Denver.
I drove through Leadville and saw all the happy finishers who stuck around town after the Heavy Half Marathon and the Full Marathon race. I remembered when I did my best Leadville Marathon finish in 2019. I loved that year so much.
As I drove through the town, of which I dreamed about for years, I thought how much I loved the town, the race, and training for HARD RACES. I just don’t think I’m that athlete anymore. The athlete who can train hard and do these hard races. And just thinking that I’m done with it all makes me so sad. And writing it for this blog makes it so real.
I was so glad to be in Colorado and hike two big mountains/passes in two days. This trip has been so good for me, and is helping me face reality that maybe I’m more a hiker than an ultrarunner anymore.
Driving to Denver on Interstate 70 I thought how progressive Colorado is compared to Tennessee. Grocery stores in Colorado don’t use plastic bags and so many people have solar panels on their homes. I miss living in Colorado.
I got to my hotel and relaxed for a bit before heading out to find my last dinner in Colorado.
In the morning I ate a $35 breakfast at Elways at the airport. The meal was very pricey but I did enjoy the coffee and little bottle of jam for my biscuit.
As I waited for my flight, and trying to get some steps in, I saw this lighted advertisement at each gate in the terminal. It was a healthcare ad but I found it so true and inspiring for me. Here’s the close up of it – and here’s my sign to what’s next:
I arrived in Estes Park an hour later than I wanted to; primarily due to my flight departing late due to the Atlanta weather issue.
As I drove into this mountain town it was getting dark and I just needed to get something to eat. Luckily, the hotel restaurant had a cool burger restaurant / ale bar.
I tried to orient myself to this place. I’ve been here a handful of times but it all seems so new and was just discombobulated. Nothing seems familiar, which was funny because I used to be the girl who always wanted to see something new but I purposely have been going back to the places I’ve lived or spent time. It was a bit familiar but still seemed new.
I ate a burger and drank an IPA. I took a short walk down the road and saw a sliver of the moon before heading back and going to bed. Tomorrow was a big day.
In my typical fashion, I was wigged out and not sure what I would do. As I packed for the hike I thought maybe I’d just stay in this cute town and walk around instead of doing my hike tomorrow. I think about forgoing the 5am admission to Bear Lake in Rocky Mountain National Park I reserved when they first were available online months ago.
In the morning I was still uncertain what to do. I brushed my teeth. I looked around the hotel room and something in my brain clicks. I put on my trail runners, put in my contacts, filled my bladders with ice and water, and headed to my car ready to hike. I’m ready for this hike. I felt good.
As I drove into the park I thought how I would love to live here again. It just felt right. I knew Tennessee is not my forever place and maybe Colorado was. I missed my dogs and don’t like being without them but they are not allowed on trails in this national park.
I came here to hike Hallett Peak because I wanted to go back and do what I did when I took the American Youth Hostel trip in 1988. I was 17 and wanted to see the world.
Now, I want to go back to these places I visited in 1988 and while doing it – think about all the choices I made from that trip to now. This is the second time I’ve done this; last year I went to Glacier National Park. Next year is Yellowstone and Grand Teton.
Here I am, 37 years later. I’m hiking Flattop Mountain Trail and will continue .6 miles on an unnamed trail to Hallett Peak.
Here is the entry from my journal from 1988 (I’ve kept a journal since 1984)
Today, June 27, 2025, Friday, I entered the park and showed my timed entry to the park ranger. I was nervous about getting a parking spot at Bear Lake but when arriving at 6am the lot was half full – relief. I was feeling inspired and ready to hike.
I started up the trail to Flattop Mountain and most people I saw turned left to the shorter hikes to the lakes while carrying big cameras and lenses. I don’t see anyone until I see a family of 5 hiking towards me. They told me they weren’t prepared for the terrain and heading back to Bear Lake. I don’t see anyone again until I made a turn on the trail and saw colorful clothes to my left. A family of 3 was sitting on a rock taking in the views. I asked them if they are heading to Flattop and they said yes. Awesome, I reply. I won’t be alone.
I hiked the slowest I’ve ever hiked. My heart beat hard and I stopped frequently to catch my breath. I’m a fast hiker, but not today. I thought of turning around many times, but my self-talk told me “I have nothing else to do today so I might as well keep going.” This helps.
I seriously have no other commitments and could take as long as I needed to get to the top. This kept me going, plus, I really wanted to get to the top and re-live this memory. Nothing looked familiar. Nothing.
I stopped several times to take in the views of the mountain lakes and the snowy peaks across the valley, then kept going. I ate and drank, and stopped to breathe.
I made it above treeline and kept going to Flattop. The views were stunning. My head started to ache. I sat down for a few minutes. I made it to a snow field and then to the junction where Hallett’s trail continues marked by cairns only. I asked a man in running tights how the trail was. “It’s an easy 20 minutes.”
I was convinced to continue and it was slow going over rocks, much like Mount Washington and the Presidential Traverse in New Hampshire. The last tenth of a mile was scrambling and looking for cairns. This was not easy. Every step I was cautious and intentional. My brain was zombie-like. I had a headache.
I made it.
This is seriously the biggest accomplishment for me in 2025. I did what I planned to do. I didn’t injure myself. I didn’t have a heart attack. I didn’t get killed by a wild animal. I made it.
I don’t stay long and head back down. I’m nervous about running out of water. I have my filter and just need to find a stream.
At the junction I met three women, all solo hikers. We took a selfie and this was the moment when I knew I’m not a weirdo to do all these hikes solo – so many other brave women were doing it too. In the background is Hallett Peak.
I hiked slowly and methodically because I wanted to remember this moment. I did it.
I found a stream and filtered water into my bladder and kept going. The sun was strong and I was eager to get into the trees. I made it down and I’m surprised that nothing hurts; my training was good.
I got back to my car and drove back to Estes Park. I needed food and more water. I don’t have a post-hike plan other than to drive to Leadville after. I should’ve had a plan.
I left the park and head edback to the hotel where I knew I can use a restroom to clean up and possibility get another burger. The burger place was closed so I drove down the road to a Mexican restaurant and ordered a burrito and Pepsi. Just what I needed.
I looked through my photos of the day while I ate my burrito and I felt so happy. So happy.
Now on to the next hike – Hope Pass at Twin Lakes on Saturday – and a chance at redemption.
In March Winnie-dog and I went on a weekend road trip to Boone, NC.
Our first stop was Blowing Rock. I wanted to see the famous geological formation called The Blowing Rock, pictured below. Normally there is a great view of the mountains but the fog rolled in and there were no views. The good thing is that there wasn’t anyone around; we had the park to ourselves.
We walked through the trails and pathways.
As we drove over to Grandfather Mountain, I was hoping to drive on the Blue Ridge Parkway but it was socked in with fog. It was scary to drive the twisty turny road and opted to go back to Boone, and drive to Grandfather Mountain the longer way.
We drove up to the top of the mountain and it was foggy, windy and rainy. We passed Forest Gump curve and parked.
We walked around in the fog and then I went up to the famous swinging bridge.
No views again, but it was okay. I know I’ll be back.
As we exited the road we stopped and hiked around the nature trails. Winnie needed a lot of help in and out of the car, but as soon as she got on the trail she found her legs and we took a long hike.
We went to the hotel and had a great room with a comfy bed while watching the forecast of incoming wind and rain. I was hoping to stay two nights but I got nervous with the forecast and we left for home in the morning. We drove through a vacant Boone and App State campus. It’s such a beautiful mountain town. I knew I would be back to see this place in all its summer glory.
This ended up being Winnie’s last road trip. She passed away two months later. I’m so glad we got to hang out for two days, see the world, and hike some trails in North Carolina.
And then I find this: Let’s just see if dreams come true, post. My dreams are about pushing my limits, seeing new places, and adopting more dogs. (Oxford comma intended)
I’m looking at houses on real estate websites and find a perfect cabin in the woods, somewhat close to Great Smoky Mountain National Park. A cabin in the woods has always been my dream. As much as living in Montana.
I’m reaching a point where I want to go back to that list I created as a senior in high school. Things I want to do before I die. Who thinks of these things at 18 years old living in New Hampshire? Apparently me. Goal oriented, fast thinking, decision maker; often not thinking of consequences.
When I think about the original list. There are a few things I remember about that original list.
I remember: being a member of a church, log cabin in the woods, be married, have a child, Mount Whitney, AT, triathlon, live out west.
A few of these I can still do.
Today, in 2025 I don’t want to travel internationally until our government is restored and a sane president is elected. I can do everything on the original list except be married and have a child. I’ve lived out west. But maybe this is my time to be a member of a church and buy a cabin in the woods.
I’m a lover of lists and dreams and plan and possibilities.
