Songs: Arcade Fire, The "No Cars Go". (don't know where we're going!)

I’ll have to make my first entry from the road brief. I’ve spent almost 2 hours so far uploading pictures (curses Pagosa Springs Public Library controls on installing Activ X). I have handwritten notes from nightly journal entries, so I’m hopeful I can come back and publish some of those words. For now, I’m forced to be economical in my story-telling.

I began in the high New Mexican desert on a Tuesday.

After about 3 miles of hiking, I got lost in dead-end canyon.

Little did I know that this would turn out to be a common theme of my trip. When I read about the Continental Divide Trail, I assumed naviation would be difficult. I have a GPS and I have tons of maps. Never did I imagine it would be like it is. It’s considered pretty average to be lost for 2 hours/day. I spend most of this time glimpsing my arrowhead shaped avatar on the GPS crisscross the dotted line of the projected trail. This is what I am seeing most of the time.

My travels through Northern New Mexico to Chama were characterized by a few other constants: a heavy pack and broken feet. Once in Chama I’ll realize I have the foot condition known as Plantar Faciitis. It can be described as having nails driven through the bottom of one’s heel on every step. I am reminded of Patrick Bateman’s torture techniques from American Psycho.

To continue, I’m lost and I’m in pain. Apparently these are the costs associated with exploring this wilderness. And when I say wilderness, I mean I saw literally 2 people in 5 days of walking.

But don't get me wrong. It's not all misery. There are outrageous moments of unadulterated escapism. My entire life is on my back, I have no idea where I'll camp next, and no one expects me to be anyplace at any appointed time. I don't have to agree on anything. I can act like a 2-year old all day. Which I often do. Most of all, I'm walking a route that no one has ever walked. I mean that literally. Based on the ease that I (and, for that matter everyone else that hikes this trail) becomes misplaced and loses the trail, it is highly likely the route I follow to get myself from town to town is unlike any other, perhaps ever?

Am I being too dramatic yet? I blame the trail. This brings me to the first theme of my little hike. Hopefully I'll be able to build on or reference these little bullet points as I make more entries. They are the signage of this blog, as it were. I may as well provide some since I'm being given so little........and for my first waypoint.....

1. There is no middle ground on the CDT. 20-plus miles/day often leaves me exhausted. It chafes my psyche and extinguishes my creativity. It makes me imagine other things I could be doing with my summer. But around each turn is a chance for wonder. I would venture to say exhausted and wonderful are opposite extremes. I'm either one or the other for the next few months.

There are other extremes too. The hike is either thrilling or, to be frank, dangerous (see next entry).

It is frustrating, I will bushwack my way 500 feet down a ridge, believing the trail to emerge in the valley, and end up completely losing my way, the trail on the other side of a rocky ridge. But then (after trespassing other a barbed wire fence) I encounter playful horses on a seemingly deserted ranch. If I hadn't gotten lost, I would never have been there.

So, check out my facebook pics for more. I'll sign off on this post and quickly write another describing my icy journeys of the past week.

Songs making the honorable mention list:

-INXS. "Never Tear Us Apart". (some of us have wings / but some of us don't know why)

-Radio Department. "Pulling our Weight" (...my backpack is heavy)

-Collins, Phil. "Another Day in Paradise". (She's got blisters on the soles of her feet / Can't walk but she's trying)