A Tour Along the Continental Divide Trail in New Mexico

“That was rough,” I’ve thought to myself, “and I’m so proud I’ve survived it mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and physically.”

— Gabaccia

There’s a kind of peace I know I can only reach when finding solitude in nature. But as the world stands today, as I am a citizen with duties, obligations, bills, with a future yet to be secure, reaching this peace is a luxury, a privilege. I picture my ancestors retreating away from their communities to find answers and questions in the harmonious orchestras of the rainforests, the deserts, and the tundras they called home, in the sole company of the animal, floral, and mineral beings. I feel, in my humanity, the call to follow my ancestors’ feet, to retreat into nature, to quiet the noise of the ever going treadmill of work, of the never ending wars in our neighborhoods and across the world. We are all connected, but we’ve grown, systemically, to feel disconnected.

I’ve been wanting to go on a long hike since I first learned about El Camino de Santiago, back in 2007. I kept looking into trails that at the time, living in southern Mexico felt “accessible.” Not shockingly, I couldn’t get together the funds to take me to the trailheads and support my dream. So for the next 14 years, dreaming was as close as I knew I could get to hiking a long trail.

Cut to 2021.

In 2021, amidst an ongoing global pandemic, somehow, the stars aligned for me to embark on my first long hike. Through my role at the time as Project Coordinator of the Outdoor F.U.T.U.R.E. Initiative I had been collaborating with the Continental Divide Trail Coalition a bit, and had resolved to take on the trail’s New Mexico section: about 800mi of this 3,100+mi path. I was privileged enough to have also been awarded the wonderful Thru Hike Syndicate sponsorship, which provided me with high quality gear I would’ve never been able to afford if I wanted to upgrade what I already owned.

The day before the trail started, my friends at CDTC and Nuestra Tierra Conservation Project threw a little farewell campout near Cumbres Pass. There had been a recent heavy snowfall and I quickly found out that my starting plans would need adjusting. Nobody wants to start a thru hike in 4ft of snow (right?). Lesson number one learned: got to be flexible about one’s thru hiking plans. We froze our butts that weekend camping in the snow…but it was one of the most fun campouts I’ve ever participated in. We told stories around the fire (the fire was life!), we had a line dancing party (it got slippery but we survived), we build a snow shelter (labor-intensive but worth it), we learned how to make fry bread from my colleague Reyaun Francisco (it astronomically upgraded our dinner and breakfast game), and some of us even got to receive a blessing from our Jicarilla Apache friend Bryan Vigil.

The weekend was so perfect, I was feeling beyond inspired and supported at all levels to start my journey. My dear friend Teresa (ED of CDTCD), my brother Carlos and my husband Roberto dropped me off at Hopewell Lake, where I would spend my first night on trail before my official start.

And so, I started a journey on the CDT. 

Saw so many fresh traces of those with whom I was sharing the trail today…from 2 humans to many aspens, pines, birds, elk, turkey, deer, cows, and even moose! In fact, a herd of deer welcomed me into my last stretch of trail before I camped.

The night before I had realized I forgot my lighter and matches (packed the wrong kit!) so I was getting ready to cold soak for the next few days. Luckily I ran into Sand Man who was generous enough and gifted me his spare matches - whew! A warm meal before a cold night is so precious.

With every step on the trail I keep thinking of the gratitude I feel for being able to be here. Am I dreaming? Can life be this good that I’ll be on trail for the next 4 weeks?

Not all was magic though. About mile 11 I started to feel a hotspot aka “a blister in the making.” I decided to check it out and to my surprise, my socks were soaking from sweat and this was no hotspot any more, but a full blown 2in blister covering my left heel bone area. I’ve had something similar happen before and so I added some moleskin and tape, changed my socks, and braced the next 11 miles. The colorful fall foliage made it easy to keep going.

When I got to camp I had to do some more first aid on the blister…the skin had ripped and I’m now dealing with exposed flesh. Still, I’ve been here before and I perform all the first aid I know. Doesn’t hurt as much but I know I better make sure it doesn’t get infected.

I found my lighter! Great morning news before I proceed to do more First aid on my blister. Since I left the blister outside of my sock overnight it’s actually looking pretty good, like it’s starting to heal. I take some ibuprofen for good measure and break up camp. Thanks to Garmin I am able to request a weather forecast and I know I need to be ready for a windy day.

If you’ve ever hiked with the wind blowing stronger than you on one of your sides then you pretty much know how my whole day was. Well that, alongside gorgeous views of valleys and mountains dressed up in fall colors. Beautiful!

I encountered the first group of cows of the day. It just so happens that I’ve been attacked by cows twice on the trail - if they charge at you they are attacking right? - so I always approach them with too much care, and by approach, I mean literally step off the trail as far as possible from them and keep walking. This time though, the cows as soon as they saw me around - I don’t know, maybe 600 yards from them - they would turn around and leave. That happened with cow groups number 1, number 2, and number 3. Seriously, zero cow attacks felt really good.

On mile eight, I start to feel discomfort on my blister area so I decide to take a break and check it out. As I peel off my sock I see some colors on the gauze that covers my blister which I don’t really like. I slowly remove the gauze and I pretty much see a burst blister on a burst blister on exposed flesh, blood, and sheeee - how many layers of skin-depth is that? Not a good look. F—-. It’s OK I’m going to take it easy and cut my day short.

A couple of miles later, I start to question myself. I’ve always been a “push through the blister” kind of gal, but what’s in it for me? Do I need to take a break from the trail already? Let me see the wound: looks very bad, not sure we are on blister territory anymore.

A massive emotion took over my chest and I started to cry as I texted my husband Roberto about my change of plans. I asked him if he would be available to pick me up tomorrow so that I can take a day to heal these wounds.

It’s only day two of my hike and it’s not like I have all the time in the world to finish it.

In fact, my time is very limited and I am on a tight schedule which requires me to hike longer days than I have ever done, so I know this is going to yet again change my schedule and possibly require me to skip some other sections.

It really sucks, but I’m going to swallow my own words and forget that I “push through blisters” and honor the fact that my body needs to heal right now and taking a break is not the worst thing in the world. I’m privileged to be close to home and to have trusted support to get there.

It’s tough to be honest, my whole body feels really grateful for these days of movement yet there is this one thing that cannot be overlooked.

After some slow back-and-forth we agree on the spot to meet for tomorrow, then I hike my last couple of miles to find a place to camp before I exit the trail for maybe a half day, a day, who knows.

I kept waking up every hour of the night. I had picked a rather noisy campsite, on a windy night, on the passage of much wildlife (ok that was the cool part!). The now almost full moon kept creating creepy shadows on my tent walls. And it was COLD.

“I’ll only be gone for a day” I keep telling myself to sleep again and again. Sure there were tears. Here I am, after years of backpacking “successfully,” failing miserably at my first thru hike on day 3.

My body had stopped feeling strong by now, my heart had sunken deep, and my ego kept looking for places to hide. I still sat by my decision. Whatever ideas I have of myself in relation to pain can go out the window. I am grown-up enough to make this choice, to choose healing over suffering.

I wake up at 5 because nature called. “Well, at least all is dry in the tent.” (Wet tents are my pet peeve).

I wake up at 6 since I’ll be meeting Roberto at 7 and I know I’ll have zero energy to pack this am, which means I’ll be taking my time. “Awesome, everything is now frosted!” Cause why not? I’m about to go all “Murphy’s law” on myself when I get a message from Roberto (thank goodness for Garmin)…”I can’t find access, it’ll be about another hour.”

This should give me some time to dry everything out (I’m excited!), so I relax and remind myself I’m overly fortunate to have someone I trust who can pick me up mid-trail.

The morning was freezing cold but as soon as the sun rays entered my little corner I started to pack my stuff and expand all tent parts to dry…this gives me all the satisfaction btw. Something about having the luxury of watching my stuff dry out outdoors…

The freezing morning becomes crisp and warm-ish, my tent is now waiting for a few drops to dry, and I get a new message with coordinates. Roberto could get as close as 2 miles from me. My foot feels sort of alright and for a second I think to myself I should’ve just kept going. After a couple of steps, a new pain reminds me why I’ve got to get out and heal this wound.

The road near me wasn’t bad, but the closer I got to Roberto, the worse the road got. Google maps was failing to load my saved data and I was so glad to have downloaded area maps along the trail on OnX, it was a mix of Garmin and OnX that ultimately got me to my destination.

Tacos de cochinita where awaiting for me. I tried to stay as positive as possible and be grateful towards Roberto. Maybe I succeeded a little, but as I showed him the injury and saw it on his face I started to accept that this may not just be a 24h break, which in turn stung my heart a little more.

We drive home. This is how fortunate I am. I am going home, with the person I love most, to heal. I’m not sitting this out in my tent alone, or at a hostel, or with strangers I’m forced to trust. I’m safe and can focus on only healing.

We pick up some salt from the grocery store. For me, it has been over a decade since the last time I had to treat any blister as a problem. Basically since I quit dancing ballet back in middle school when my masochism was at an all-time-high and I didn’t care to go on pointe without protection. If you know, you know.

The remedy is simple: mix boiling water and salt, soak for a few, dry for a few, repeat.

The remedy is brutal. I felt, saw, heard, felt again and then screamed at my all creators. No joke. I’m glad I’m here suffering to heal and not to push through a hike which would then very likely make it even more painful to heal.

Tour Hike Stop: San Pedro Parks Wilderness

This Wilderness stop on the CDT promised fall colors, native trout, wildlife watching, and maybe a bit of snow. It’s all I need/want right now.

Roberto and I decide to make this a short-ish-let’s-play-it-by-ear out and back as I’m listening to how my wound responds to hopping into a different shoe (my good ‘ol pair of St Elias with which I’ve backpacked some Good miles), and wearing all sorts of stuff to keep it from getting worse (namely blister bandaid plus rock tape plus an ankle brace to keep it all in place).

We ended up hiking about 6miles in and set up camp. The rest of the day was spent fishing. Luckily, the spawn hadn’t started yet and we were able to catch a few browns (contrary to the advisory we’ve received from NM Game & Fish, you should NOT take advantage of reds to catch more fish!!! Instead let them procreate in peace so that we may still know wild fish in the future - thanks!).

If you would’ve told me such a magical place as the San Pedros was only a few hours away from my house, I don’t know if I would’ve believed it. But entering this forest was already magical. To begin, there’s a sharp transition between forest and desert which makes for contrasting dramatic landscapes left and right. Then, once you step into the trail you feel this vibrant energy buzzing from aspens and pines that look ancient and wise. The streams are so small and darling, while the trout barely fit in there…I figured there would only be miniature fish but I was wrong, these gals were long!

We were also the luckiest to catch this landscape in full blown fall mode. At times the trail was hidden below a carpet of yellow leaves, and then we got to see the leaves falling too…looked like a fairy dust shower 🌬 To make this return to the trail even more magical, we had about 2 hours of snow during our hike out (started after we had cleaned camp! Whew!).

And my wound? Even looked as if it had healed a bit more during the trip. The very extensive protective setup truly helped and my feet were happy 🙃

CDT-NM Day 5: A Mountain to Ourselves

Tour Hike Detour: Tsoodzil / aka Mt Taylor

So-called Mt Taylor is a popular summit for thru-hikers while not being on the actual CDT — close enough tho. The scenery yet again is breathtaking, and I really liked that you can drive up to about less than a mile from the summit (4x4 and high clearance recommended but neither was necessary for us). You can also take a longer and steeper hike from one or two lower trailheads. I really love that it has access at different points providing opportunities for different visitors with different interests, skills, and goals. We chose to drive as far up as we could and then take on the summit.

Teresa and Riley joined for this hike. If you don’t know Teresa Martinez yet, she is the Executive Director of the CDTC and as a Latina leader in the conservation space, she has and continues to pave the way for diverse communities to have belonging in this ever so male and white dominant space. Riley is her pup, and a very good friend of ours too. Hiking with Teresa on and around the divide is super special because the wealth of knowledge she holds around the history, geography, and culture of the trail is incomparable and just makes you appreciate what you see even more.

On this day, we were greeted with lovely weather and being the only human visitors. We had our lunch at the summit as we wondered at the beauty and wealth that surrounded us. A couple of juvenile eagles (maybe golden) came to bid us farewell and so we hiked out.

Moments like this serve to me as good reminders of why working so hard for money is actually a slap in the face and totally unnecessary. This land is rich and has more than enough to sustain us all…but ok that may be a story/essay for another day.

Tour Hike Stop: Malpais National Monument

Roberto dropped me off at the trailhead around 2pm - it made sense to have a short first day, as I was testing a different pair of shoes which I had never worn before while backpacking.

I over budgeted 3 nights to take my time around the Malpais, a stunning landscape of ancient lava fields, craters, and cinder cones. Tons of bright red and green “cerros” could be spotted along the trail.

The elevation changes were extremely generous as were the animal tracks. Saw 2-3 different human tracks, but no humans along the way. You can count on much time spent analyzing the scat on the ground for freshness (lol, anybody else likes to know how close you have been to watching an animal go #2?).

The terrain is rugged and navigation required constant attention. In certain areas it was easy to think I was on the trail, and suddenly, on my next step, the trail would be nowhere. This path keeps you alert cause most of it is basically a cairn by cairn path. Which is sometimes fun, sometimes tiring to be constantly reminded that your 20/20 vision isn’t 😅🤓. I probably opened my maps more than I ever had for other hikes - it was overkill tbh yet I like being extra safe when going solo.

Mentally, I had a hard time during this section. I was back out there with the birds, the cougars, the donkeys, the elk…but really it was just me with me.

The first night I made the mistake of checking for cell service at my camp. I had it, and this would take away from the rest of my hike. I think knowing I had service once kept me checking in other spots and eventually had me being online too much, which did not help keep my mind at rest.

I appreciated this landscape so much, but I have to recognize that being “online” took away from my own peace and experience.

Perhaps it wouldn’t have been so bad if I had actually thru-hiked my way there, but because of my healing I feel like I have spent too much time off the trail, thus I have no need to be “connected” while I’m out there. Note to self: don’t check for signal unless you *absolutely* need it.

It was tough to be there alone. I felt a lot of inner resistance. I was happy to be hiking and not have issues with my feet, I was annoyed at not having a set plan and playing my miles by ear. Each day I battled between hiking less and spending more time chilling at camp or wondering if I should push harder and cover more ground instead. I didn’t want to make any choices. Even finding a camp spot was its own mission. I could not decide and was never absolutely satisfied with my spot even though they were super flat, gave me wonderful sunrises and sunsets, and included beautiful morning serenades by The Birdies.

After all, I finished my miles in 2 nights and got off to plan the next stop.

Looking back I both loved my time in the Malpais and was constantly annoyed at all the unknowns/undecided aspects of the hike. Another lesson in self, to know and be better next time.

Tour Hike Detour: Arenas Valley, NM

When Teresa reached out to say Joe Saenz, owner of WolfHorse Outfitters and president of the Chiricahua Apache, had an opening for an interpretive horseback ride, we didn’t think twice to flex our plans for the opportunity.

I’ve done a handful of guided horseback tours throughout my life, but I’ve never learned as much as riding with Joe. Foremost, I really appreciate that Joe leads with the stories and wisdom of his ancestors. During the ride, we learned about the local history of displacement and return to the land of the Apache peoples (they most recently brought back their Red Paint Pow Wow), how the small area of Arenas once served as THE relaxing spot for all the Black folx working the mines who weren’t welcome in Silver City (which has a deeply racist history), he shared with us about the natural history of the landscape and how it had changed due to cow overgrazing and poor fire management from the forest service (not a shocker), we got to learn about native plant uses and the diets of the Apache folks (mostly vegetarian!), we even got to chew on a yucca bloom (a very very late bloomer), and we learned about and helped with removing the gear from the horses (aka untacking) when we got back to the stables.

The trail we rode is called the Dragonfly trail because the place is said to overflow with these little creatures during the season. But it’s also named after and famous for a Puebloan petroglyph (swipe to see it) that depicts a dragonfly. Joe let us know that the Apache did not create petroglyphs (carvings) but rather pictographs (paintings).

After the ride, we hung out with him for a bit to learn more about his work. Know Joe is a person that speaks with a wisdom that is quite rare to find in people, inspiring reverence and respect. There’s so much commitment in the work he does for his community, and it’s work that comes with all the challenges you can imagine. From fighting to correct wronged Native names on public signage, to ensuring there’s local visibility for the Apache culture, Joe is on the frontlines of the work.

Via his outfitters he offers so many kinds of trips, from short to multi-day ones, from interpretive to skill-building ones. I know I’ll be back to continue learning from him. And if you ever find yourself in the Silver City/Arenas Valley area, I would say it’s a MUST to take a ride with Joe.

Check out Joe’s website at wolfhorseoutfitters.com 

Tour Hike Detour Stops: Gila Hot Springs and Gila Dwellings National Monument

Driving through the canyons of the Gila National Forest, you may arrive at The Gila Dwellings National Monument. There, for thousands of years, nomadic peoples used the caves of the Gila River as temporary shelters. But, in the late 1200's, some people had a new vision. The Mogollon People decided it would be a good place to build a, dare I say, even more *epic home.* And today, we have the immense privilege of literally stepping into that vision.

Right outside the visitor center, 600 steps take visitors into the forest, up to this ancient site once called home by the Mogollon. From up there you can hear the forest songs, the river’s whisper, and the wind’s prayers. Standing in these caves, looking out into the canyon walls, I couldn’t help but wishing humans still lived in such harmony and proximity to nature.

There are more dwelling sites to visit in the area via hiking, alongside several hot springs opportunities. We decided to visit the Gila Hot Springs which are privately owned, right outside of the Monument. It was wonderful to sit back and enjoy the views while surrounded by healing water.

My foot is feeling so so much better by now, I can hardly believe I am almost completely healed. I thought it was going to take until next year to do so. And I’m feeling grateful, because I got here not in the “hardest way” to get here as would’ve been thru hiking, but in a way that honored my health and my body. Today I understood there is no “better” way to get anywhere, or “more valuable” way to get anywhere, than the way that was possible to us.

Tour Hike Stop: Aldo Léopold Wilderness

Maybe section hunting is gonna become my thing someday…but this time around I had ZERO luck out there. And I mean, last Turkey tracks I saw were near where we parked the truck. I thought if the turkeys were near roads they would be happier in the backcountry. Apparently not the case.

But a moment in the backcountry is never dull and…all I’m going to say is that what we found instead of turkeys was MAGICAL.

Something else we found, or rather spotted, were Gila Trout! And so we decided to hike out and trade the shotguns for rods.

Tour Hike Stop: Little Hatchet Mountains

For me, seeing or smelling creosote is home. Don’t ask me why. I did not grow up near these powerful plants, but I’ve always felt at home when surrounded by them.

Desert landscapes always get me. Something about seeing so much diversity of life in a place we are taught to think of as barren and lifeless. I stopped to imagine what it would be like to start the CDT going north, with these open views, with cotton candy skies, hiking on the soft arena. And on the reverse side, what it must be like to have all this at the close of a thru hike. How timing could make a difference in perception…

By now I know I only have a couple of days left before I go home. The trip got cut short with a plan of returning next year to hike to the monument at the border with Mexico - until then, I’ll just play in this area for a bit.

On this particular day, Roberto and I went quail hunting…just to find out there were but very few quail in the area. Pigeons abounded tho, and so we did some research to ensure we could hunt those - and yes we could. But, I didn’t feel like going out after the long morning hunt. So I stayed at camp for the rest of the day; watched a movie and journaled a bit. Stepping out occasionally to stare in awe at all the beauty around me, and thinking about how this whole year I went on 4-5 hunts that most would define as “unsuccessful” and yet how I was feeling hugely accomplished. I think maybe also relieved that I have been able to enjoy something that is so difficult to do, something I haven’t had any immediate (or other) gratification for. In the next year or so maybe I’ll start harvesting my own meat, but this just wasn’t the time. And being ok with that, alongside all the other “failures” from this year feels more than ok. (Roberto did get some pigeons, which we bbq’d with the whole Nuestra Tierra team a few days later!)

There’s one more day of CDT life before heading back North…