[Day 70] Twenty-Four Hours

There was internal debate whether I’d give this a try. But, after some longer last days in Colorado, I entertained the idea.

Beginning at 3pm from Rawlins, I hiked into the desert of the Great Divide Basin, intending to see how many miles I could cover in a 24 hour period.

I have experience remaining awake more than a day. A few times a quarter in college, around midterm and final season, I would engage in all night study sessions. These were never particularly out of desperation or lack of studying; I often convinced myself that my bizarre brain lacked retention, and I would spend my nights following rabbit holes in coursework. My exhausting study sessions would result in either great exam scores or well below average exam scores; it was fifty-fifty. I see this event going similar — either I do something I was convinced I couldn’t do, or I burn up like the Hindenburg after a short, glorious flight.

After a large plate of Thai fried rice from the prime spot in Rawlins and a quick nap at Depot Park, I hit the ground running.

The first miles followed Highway 287 out of town, and I accidentally missed the turn off towards a public land easement. Since I was a half mile past the turn and trail ran parallel and reconnected with the highway in some 15 miles, I continued the highway walk. Around mile 12, I cut over from the highway back to trail to get water at Fish Pond, which had a great spring (despite its appearance).

The walking continued to my next water source, Bull Spring. Water dictates. The trail made a full split from the highway, following dirt roads through the desert. Sunset approached. This would be the most gut-wrenching hour, as it always is with any 24-hour event, even indoors — exchanging natural light for nine hours of blackness.

The wind picked up at sundown, and that helped with the mosquitos. An hour into the night, the wind became a windstorm. Twenty mile per hour winds pushed me south. I made it to Bull Spring, 28 and a half miles in, at 11pm. A tent was popped up next to the spring, and I’m sure they were annoyed by my arrival (or they did not notice anything with the absurd winds). Bull Spring has been one of the cleanest sources I’ve had on trail. Many of these desert wells draw from deep underground water tables, recycle themselves daily, and are fenced in to keep large animals out. The spring was surround by knee-high grass, and I am amazed I managed to pass through a few tenths of a mile of it without any ticks grabbing to my bare skin.

After a snack and water, I denied myself some sleep and pushed towards my next water source, A&M Reservoir. The winds continued. The air temperature may have been around 50°F, but with the convective effects of the winds, I was rapidly losing body heat. I threw on my gloves and shell layers, which made a world of difference. Around 1:30am, after five hours, the winds died still. Strange lights far off in the desert flickered in and out of sight.

At 2am, I came across an unexpected water cache serviced by a local baptist church. This was a blessing! I watered up and decided to make it to 3am before my first significant break. At a distance of 41 miles, I called it for an hour, and pitched a quick cowboy in a ditch alongside trail. Is this a legal move for a 24-hour challenge? I don’t know, but I didn’t really care. An hour of sleep was in order. Of course, an hour turned into two hours. I was awake at the first light on the horizon and back to walking.

I bypassed the reservoir and a few other water sources to get myself to Crooks Creek Spring. This was yet another great water source. However, the area was teeming with ticks. Water sources are shared with cows, wild horses, antelopes, and other wildlife of the Basin. With limited sources, these springs become concentration centers for ticks and the likes. I found four on my clothing at the spring. Crooks Creek Spring was the most difficult part of my trek. I was exhausted. I was dehydrated. I was struggling to eat food. Nonetheless, I took my time to ensure I may continue.

Crossing Crooks Gap Road which leads to Jeffrey City (an uncommon trail stop), the trail meandered around Crooks Mountain, eventually plateauing at the top. Open pastures and springs dotted the land. To the southwest, the expanse of the Basin intimidated. I have to guess that the Basin is why grizzlies haven’t migrated back down to Colorado.

Water sources soon dwindled — I skipped many previous spots because of cows. At 66 miles, I had no choice but to drink from a brown cow pond. Even after filtering and bleach treatment, the water was yellowed with a cow manure taste. The liter of water I downed sat on my stomach like a rock. A tick nearly dug into me as I gathered water. It was time to be on my way.

Some 69 miles in, it was 3pm — 24 hours was over. But, like a good game of baseball, the greatest fun comes in extra innings. I needed camp and a decent water source. A (non-cow) pond was ten miles ahead.

Along the way, storm cells surrounded with rain and lightning. I expected it — I was to get wet today. The Red Hot Chili Peppers bumping in my ears muted the thunder. A couple miles to the pond, I realized there was a dedicated water cache another mile ahead. Yet, I had another target extending my stop. I trotted my final three miles to avoid lightning and rain, but they both caught me in my final mile. Drenched, I arrived at the water cache — 80 miles from my start in Rawlins. I snatched a gallon of water, pitched my tent, and prepared a double dinner. Despite the extent of my run, the end felt nothing more than a typical day on trail.

Was hiking for 24 hours worth the push? The event certainly was a valid test of the mind and body. Do I regret it? If there is anything I am learning on the trail, I shouldn’t hold regret — I can only learn, improve, and continue.

Signing off,

Zeppelin / fReaK (ON a leash)