Where's the bridge?

It’s not my preferred way to start the day…with a river crossing…even less preferred when it takes you an HOUR to find a way across.

That’s right, the log bridge at Cochetopa Creek was washed out, and in my chacos I tried countless places to cross both up and down stream, but ended up having to go about a 1/4 mile upstream to find a spot, and I still got soaked to my waist…having already half fallen in the icy snowmelt. After a break to put my shoes and socks on numb feet, it was a good half an hour before I could feel them again. Embrace the brutality indeed. You just never know what kind of brutality you are going to get out here.

The walking though, was devine.

Very pastoral, these are the kinds of mountains and rolling hills that I would draw as a girl. Wonderous landscape.

I didn’t escape a quick rain towards the end of the day, and as I crossed highway 114 I rushed to find a spot to set up my shelter against the angry sky behind me, but 2 hours later it hasn’t materialized. Ok by me!

I’m worn out, with these long days plus sleeping on the ground with no insulation is a bear. Thankfully my parents are one their way out here and they can help bring me to a place where I can get some new gear. I patched my tarp with some cuben patches, and the coat with tape, but things are a bit ragged. And I lost another pair of sunglasses when I fell half way in the creek this morning. For some reason this week is getting off to a rough start.