[Day 46] One Thousand

The hostel was busy at 8am with abundant chatter. I woke up around 8:30am to an empty room. My sleep was intermittent last night due to my oozing wound. I decided to keep it uncovered, causing from more itch and a tendency for my leg to stick to the bedding. I ignored the commotion of the main area and prepped my things for checkout.

I headed for the Chipotle-like restaurant for a big burrito bowl, then to Safeway for non-stick bandages, ice cream, and more calories. Sitting on the tables outside of the Safeway, a bearded traveler adorned in paint splattered canvas clothing, a duct taped rucksack, wielding a stick staff sat beside me. His name was Dimitri Kadiev, a low-tech, homeless, traveling muralist. We talked for a couple hours about our journeys as we each popped in and out of the grocer for items.

Around 2pm, I decided it was time to exit town. I started my way towards Walmart two miles on the opposite side of town. On the way, I picked up a shawarma pita and a Sonic chocolate shake to stuff more calories. I even packed out a burger for dinner.

By 4pm, I had my thumb up alongside the highway. I got my first hitch which got me about half way to the pass. A second hitch got me to Monarch Pass before 5:30pm.

Immediately, the trail was under snow, as I walked the divide around Monarch Mountain Ski Resort. The slipping and sliding of the snow walking was very much to getting to me.

I decided to keep it a light day (I started hiking near 6pm anyway), and I had a late arrival to camp. Eight miles of hiking brought me to my thousandth logged mile (or close enough to it) of foot travel on the trail. For myself there wasn’t a celebration nor do I consider it much an achievement, but it is a memento to the miles past and those to come.

I walked down a steep mountain pass and scree field in the dark by headlamp. Camp took a while to assemble, as the land of rock and snow didn’t have much to offer in terms of available flat dirt. During my tent pitch, I heard a deep rumbling swoosh — an avalanche in a nearby bowl. In the distance, strange lights flashed irregularly with no particular source. The flashes resembled distant lightning, but more diffused and flame colored.

I doubt another rest day in Salida would have improved my flesh wound. My glissade burn consists of gelatin-like puss and flesh that grows on top of it. Even with the nonstick bandage, I remove the layer of healing tissue when changing my wrapping. I wish my doubt is wrong, but I suspect this wound may take a couple more weeks to heal, especially with my daily movements and the dirt of the backcountry.

Signing off,

Zeppelin / fReaK (ON a leash)