Fire and Water CDT miles 161 to 173 Gila river alternate 1-37

Silver city was cool I did laundry and camped on nice flat grass. The next morning on the fifth of April I walked to Denny’s for breakfast, wandered over to the visitors center and signed the trail register, then resupplied at Food City. I carried my bags back to the rv park and packed up before checking out. On the way back to the trail I found a Pizza Hut with a buffet and pigged our for a couple of hours. Finally a little after noon I made my way back to the trail.

I was on my way again. The CDT is generally considered to be a corridor from Mexico to Canada with different trail options along the way. There is technically now an official CDT thanks to the effort to blaze the trail but it doesn’t follow the most popular routes and does not take resupply options into account. Because of this most CDT thru-hikes still use several of the alternate trails.

I planned to take the Gila River alternate which left the official route at mile 173.1, it was an 11.5 mile hike to there from town. The first few miles were on the paved road and then it turned into red gravel heading into the National Forest.

The thing was the road was also traveled by vehicles and every-time one drove by it choked me in dust. After a while as I walked deeper into the forest the vehicles thinned out and this became less of a problem.

At mile 11.5 I came to the crossroads where the Gila River alternate deviated from the trail, as I sat there taking a break on a rock I heard gunshots and a pickup full of teenagers roared by firing shotguns into the air from the bed. So I turned left and hiked a few more miles up the Gila trail. I made camp at mile 2.8 on the alternate for a 14.5 mile day.

I arose early on the 6th and decided to hike down to the river at mile 21.6 for camp that night, 18.8 miles away. I hadn’t seen any water since leaving Silver City and was still living on what I had carried out. Less than 2 miles later I encountered a real running creek, it was glorious. Water, real running water.

I of course filled all my bottles and crossed the creek drenching my shoes but not careing in the least. I walked another mile and crossed the creek again, and again, and again. If only I had known it was a mere foreshadowing of what was to come. Eventually I left the creek and started to climb. It was a beautiful place with pine trees and Mountain views.

I had to climb up to 7900 feet to get through the pass, over 2000 feet higher than my campsite the night before. The trail was relatively well marked and as the elevation rose the trees thinned and passed around rock formations and boulders.

As I steadily climbed I kept an eye out for Doug the legendary Catholic hermit that lived somewhere out there in a shack. Sadly It was not to be and I saw no trace.

It was 11.5 miles from camp up to the pass and a lot of it was relatively tough climbing but still I made good time. By 2 pm I was through and hiking down the other side. It was great hiking all downhill through beautiful forests and in the distance I could see huge mountains, with snow on their flanks reminding me that there was still a lot to overcome on my journey north.

I was heading toward the Gila wilderness and came upon a parking lot in the woods where dayhikers and horsemen could park and hike or ride the trails. There were a couple of trucks with horse trailers in the lot but nobody was around. I hiked on continuing towards the river; my destination for the evening.

It was premier hiking with shade and large trees and a nice trail to follow. I found an old skillet and the remains of a log building.

As I traveled through the forest I could tell horse riders had passed not long before. Then I noticed that they were littering the forest with Coors Light cans as they rode. I was carefully policing myself to make sure I didn’t even leave a wrapper on the ground and carrying my garbage on my back; while these disgusting subhumans with horses to carry their loads were leaving a trail of beer cans. Now anyone that seeks the beauty of this forest has to stare at their leavings. I wished I could pick it up but as I learned on the AT you can’t carry everybody’s trash it just weighs you down, and I didn’t have room for 30 beer cans in my pack.

Later as I neared the river I could hear a course of what sounded like vile baboons hooting away. I came around a bend in the trail and there stood 3 obese men in their underwear drinking beer and making obscene amounts of noise. Knowing that if I was forced to speak I would not be able to stop myself from telling them how I felt about their litter and seeking peace; I simply stepped off trail and walked on by. 100 yards down I discovered they had staked their horses in the middle of the path and there was not a way around. The animals were obviously feeling skittish, and not wanting to be kicked I was forced to calm them down before I felt I could safely pass.

Shortly after I reached the river.

According to my nav app I was supposed to veer left and follow the bank for a short while without crossing but obviously the bank had washed away since the map was made, and there was a sheer cliff into the river. Realizing I would have to cross I eyed the fast moving current and elected to camp where I was for the night and figure it out in the morning. As I looked for a tent site some horsemen came across the river from the other side. One got off and introduced himself as Wesley and said they were on a trout fishing trip. While we were talking one of the others fell off his horse and every body had to make sure he was ok. They got him back on his horse and headed off to camp. I think they had planned on camping where the obese subhumans had set up because not long after they returned and set up camp a little ways off from me.

I awoke to a beautiful sunrise; and I faced the river. I knew there were many crossings to come; according to the information I had read most hikers said they forded the Gila over 200 times before it was done but surely they were exaggerating, or maybe not.

I forded the river there for the first time. It was a little over hip deep and the current was swift. Luckily I had my hiking poles to steady me and I made it the other side. Then about less than a quarter mile upriver I hit a cliff and realized I would have to cross again. So the day went, I would hike on one side until it became impassable and cross and do the same on the other. The current was always swift and at times it was over my chest. I believe it was on my 17th crossing when I lost my footing and fell into the rivers icy grip. I was quickly swept downstream and was carried for 300 yards before managing to gather my footing and crawl out onto the shore having lost my sunglasses but otherwise no worse for wear. It was a brutal slow way to travel crossing and recrossing the river. Sometimes barely able to pull myself onto the shore, occasionally whatever I was using to gain my tentative purchase would break or the bank would collapse and back into the water I would plunge.

Other times the mud would feel like quicksand and I would sink to my knees before forcing my way free. A few times upon reaching a cliff face the water would be running wild with swift rapids and there was no way to cross, so I was forced to cling to the canyon wall with fingers and toes while I inched my way along the rock, mere feet above the raging torrent. And of course all of this with a 35 pound pack on my back.

And it was gorgeous, huge trees, towering canyon walls; the wild river everything an adventurer yearns for. I saw another of the small pigs which I now know are called javelinas.

At one point I smelled a very strong musk that was most likely a bear but made me think of all the stories of how people would smell a Sasquatch long before they supposedly saw one. I heard a low rumble emanating from the trees and decided to pick up my pace. While walking through a patch of huge pines I saw something dark and lithe with a long tail dash across the path in the distance but couldn’t tell for sure what it was. At several crossings I startled wild ducks and they would fly away quacking their disdain. At times the trail was open and well marked and at others it was pick your own way through the brush; bushwhacking forcing a path, always following the river.

Even with all the crossings I was still making miles. Then I smelled smoke. I came around a bend and there was huge pine on fire. I thought someone had left their campfire burning and started to get water to put it out, but then I noticed there was smoke everywhere; the forest was on fire.

Luckily for me it had largely already burned itself out. I decided to see if the other side of the river looked safer but discovered it had burned down to the water and then leaped across to burn the other side.

I had little choice but to hike through and hope for the best knowing that if the fire got worse ahead I would have to backtrack over 20 miles with all the river crossings to find a way around. I was able to push through fighting the smoke and avoiding the burning trees. It wasn’t actually that bad but I tried to stay close to the river so I could jump in if necessary.

Luckily this was not necessary and I made it through: crossing the river as needed. A few miles upstream the canyon walls had blocked the fires progress and once I made it around I was home free. Of course the sobering thought in the back of my mind was: what if I or another hiker had camped in the fire’s path; as we all sleep wherever we feel like stopping for the night. This made me realize how lucky I am to be living the life I am; for though sometimes dangerous and rough at least I get be me and live free and if taken by the river, or the fire, a blizzard, or a grizzly bear at least I’m getting to really live.

I continued hiking up the gorge and made it to mile 34.8 on the Gila River trail for a 13.4 mile day. I had crossed the river 48 times. I stopped early at 5 pm knowing I was only 3 miles from Doc Campbell’s where my parents had mailed me a resupply box that wasn’t supposed to be there till Tuesday. I found an awesome spot under large trees and hung up my clothes to dry in the waning sun that was quickly sinking behind the canyon wall. I cooked my ramen for dinner and relaxed by the river happily contented with my place in the world.

In the the morning I awoke knowing that I was only going to have to hike 3 miles that day since I was planning to camp at the Gila Hot Springs campground next to Doc Campbells. I also knew I would soon be battling the river again and it would be cold. But I’ve never been one to lay about in the morning so I packed up and got to hiking around 8 am. 100 yards uptrail it was back into the river I went. In the 1.5 miles to where I hit highway 15 for the road walk up to the trading post I crossed another 7 times for a total of 55 so far with plenty more to come later on. Of course on the last crossing with the highway in sight I slipped off a rock midstream and plunged in for an icy bath. I hit the highway and walked the remaining mile to the store. When I arrived these awesome ladies that were living in their van traveling around gave me coffee while we waited for the store to open. Once it did at 10 am about 20 mins later I found out my box had already arrived! My awesome parents had sent me a plethora of food for the 140 miles to my next stop at Pie Town. I had already planned to stay for the day so I got a campsite at the hotsprings for 8 bucks.

Another hiker walked up and introduced himself as Stormdasher. Apparently he had been not far behind me for a couple days and had been following my footprints along the river. He also said he had met Doug the hermit and talked to him for hours and was even invited back to his shack. I was jealous. He said Doug told him that it had taken him over 14 years to really get his garden to grow in the rough environment. Wow talk about dedication. Stormdasher hung around for a while and some really nice people fed us chips and hummus which was delicious, Then he hiked on as he was only out for his months vacation and was trying to make it to Colorado.

That’s about it for now just going to relax and head out tomorrow morning sometime. My appearance is starting to startle the norms which is kind of entertaining. People are starting to do double takes when they see me. At the market in Silver City a guy saw me, then whipped his head around , dropped the sandwich he was holding and exclaimed that I looked like a Mountain Man, I just told him I was hiking through on my way to Canada. At the trading post today I walked in with StormDasher and the people looked at us, looked back and then whipped their heads back around and stared blatantly at me with a look of wonder in their eyes. Stormdasher thought it was hilarious and said I looked like a character out of a book. Then when I was walking back to the post after going to the campground this old lady driving by slammed on her brakes and slowly rolled by and I could see her mouthing the words “Oh My God.” I’m not really sure what it is. I’m dressed like all the other hikers but apparently I’m standing out, maybe it’s the missing tooth…