It’s hard to summarize the end of a chapter in your life, that when it began, you didn’t even know it would be a chapter of your life. In 2017 I had the opportunity to join a hike that my siblings had started the year before, and although I had not backpacked since my youth days in Boy Scouts I was up for the challenge. The first year on the trail for me was about a week before our son turned one year old, and our daughter was three and a half years old, they were babies! As the years progressed making this hike every summer with my siblings, I started to realize that this trip seemed like just a normal annual occurrence to my kids, but to me it was not. I never had dreams of backpacking tons of miles, sleeping on the ground for days in a row, and spending time out in the middle of nowhere completely disconnected from normal life. And to be honest, there were definitely some moments especially early on in this trek, that I questioned why I was subjecting myself to all of this. But after spending a decade of my adult life working on this accomplishment, the easiest way I can summarize the experience from start to finish is this:
I never knew the time with my siblings was missing in my life, until we started spending this time together. Between planning phone calls sometimes weekly, text messages randomly checking in on training or supply choices, and especially the actual time together hiking and camping (and even just the before and after the trail). As adults with families, careers, responsibilities it is very easy to just focus on what’s in front of you. But once we started this trip together, I quickly realized that I had been lacking this closeness with my siblings all this time, and how great it became to have regular communication with each other, and fun stories and jokes we shared, and really just the memories we were creating beyond our childhood years together living under the same roof.
Having this annual excursion made me realize just how out of shape I had become. You think you’re physically fit, and then you go try to hike 50 miles in a few days at high elevation, and you’re quickly slapped in the face with a dramatic feeling of inadequacy. Having a toddler and newborn at home, and quickly realizing I probably wasn’t as healthy as I thought I was instantly drove me to get in better physical shape. I now had a few reasons to focus on my health and fitness. One, to keep up with my growing children as they run around endlessly and play non-stop. And two, to conquer this trail in Colorado that I thought would be simple to just walk… but it wasn’t. I quickly found myself getting into year-round training habits, more than I had done in years. Some eating habits changed over time to be better. And although it’s near impossible to cut caffeine out of my life in our busy household, I’ve found it beneficial to do an annual caffeine-free cleanse for 6-8 weeks each year which became crucial to helping deal with the lack of caffeine while backpacking!
Spending extended time outdoors does change how you view things in your daily life, and you don’t realize it until you start paying close attention. When you’re on a majestic trail through the mountains, it’s easy to think about carrying your trash out when you leave, but being back in civilization I find myself still packing trash into small containers to take up less space. And when you’re out enjoying the beauty of nature it’s easy to stop yourself from stepping on a small plant or tree branch in an attempt to leave the trail undisturbed. But I find myself back home in my neighborhood trails now doing the same, even though they are nowhere near as beautiful and natural as the Colorado Trail. The point is, your conservative approach to daily life on the trail, starts to blend in with your normal life back home, and that’s not a bad thing.
Everyone’s reason for completing this trail is different, even within our sibling group. My brother started this whole thing wanting to hike 40 miles of the trail for his 40th birthday, and quickly it turned into a desire to complete the entire trail. For me, I didn’t know why I was doing it for the first couple of years, or at least I didn’t have a specific reason. My life had changed pretty dramatically around the time I started, drastically changing my career path after 14 years in one business. Adding a second child to our family that we never originally thought we wanted, until my father-in-law passed away unexpectedly shortly after moving into our new home we built to share. My wife encouraged me to take the trip with my siblings when I mentioned it, so I did. The first year was physically on the edge of being horrible, we had a lot to learn to do this trip and be comfortable doing it. But I instantly enjoyed the time together with siblings, and I carried my camera from day one, so the views and photographs I was able to take offset some of the misery of the backpacking portion. Year two was questionable on whether to return, but I was still intrigued enough to come back again. And I started playing catch-up on the sections missed from the first year. By year three, I was committed to catching up on all sections missed, and trying to figure out how to make the actual backpacking part bearable. And with the growing collection of photographs of places and scenery most will never see in their lives, I started to appreciate more and more the opportunity I had in front of me. And the idea of being able to one day say I completed the 500 mile trail sounded pretty cool to me. So sometime after a couple years in, I decided I wanted to complete the trail and see this thing through. My kids would one day be able to say “My dad did that”, and they would hopefully see the value in setting a goal this big and finishing it out. My photographs were getting better and better each year, partially due to the scenery getting progressively better too. And I realized, maybe I should work on a book of this trail, even if just for our family, but a photo book of the 500 mile achievement that doesn’t seem to be very well known. So now I had another reason to complete the trail, I want to publish a book about this beautiful path through the mountains. From the very beginning, I never ran into another hiker that was carrying the type of equipment that I was (a full-frame professional camera). To be honest, I think this final year was the first time someone even asked me what the pack on my chest was (what did these people think I was carrying all of those years?), and asked if I was carrying a camera? I confirmed that’s what I had with me and I had carried it the entire trail, which received a response of,” that’s commitment!”. Point being, as big as this trail is, and as well known as it may be in Colorado, I don’t think it’s been very well captured by photographers to share with the world, so that became one of my goals.
This final year wasn’t easy, even after 9 previous years of preparing ourselves, improving our skills and equipment, training year-round. It wasn’t the hardest year, but it had some definite challenges. But to be honest, this year and the last couple have been some of the absolute most beautiful segments of the trail, with seemingly endless grand views in many directions. Although we were nearing completion of the trail in Durango, it wasn’t a downhill hike the whole way. We spent the first few days bouncing around 11,000-12,000+ feet of elevation, sleeping over 11,000 feet the first couple of nights. We battled some tough climbs, but with the reward of some breathtaking panoramic views.
In typical fashion, nothing comes easy. This final year was unique. Many of the sections of The Colorado Trail tend to start one way and end the same way, meaning if it’s a rocky and dry location it will be that way all day. Or if it’s hot out, all day will be hot. This year, every day took us through a journey of conditions from start to finish. We had rain… every, single, day. We would spend time hiking in shorts, covered in sunscreen, sweating through our clothes. And then the rain would start, and we would be freezing cold, covered in rain gear and warm layers, hiding out in trees to wait out storms. We slept through heavy wind and storms, and we had nights without a drop of water on tents in the morning. These swings in climate and conditions, make it hard to just be comfortable and consistent. Frequent stops to put on rain gear, then take it back off when the temperature rises back up 30 degrees in an hour. We definitely got our money’s worth out of our rain gear this year.
As a group, there have been various injuries spread throughout the years, which doesn’t make things any easier. There have been minor bumps and blisters, injuries requiring surgery to repair, and even a battle with cancer. Completing something this big over a 10 year timeframe will allow a lot of room for injuries and sickness to creep in. The fact that this trail was still completed with a maximum of 1 extra year, shows the dedication and determination from all of us to push through when necessary, and push hard to make up any missed sections. It’s hard enough to complete the annual sections that are planned, and even more difficult to add additional sections on top of all of it. But as a group, we all made efforts to help each other catch-up, carrying loads, sometimes literally dragging each other up the climbs. It truly was a group effort to get to the finish line over the last 10 years. I can thankfully say, I managed to complete all 10 years and 500+ miles injury free! Unless you count blisters, which I fought with over the first 3 years. My focus on training all year for this trek, helped make sure I could keep away any injuries, and I was thankful and lucky to never deal with altitude sickness at a debilitating level. Overall, it’s pretty amazing that we completed all of it with the challenges dealt with, the injuries encountered along the way, and the strain of the trail itself on a not-so-young group of hikers.
I’ll let the photos of the trail tell more of the story from this year. But I have to make this statement, as a professional photographer: Photos do not do justice for the first-hand view of these scenes. No matter how hard I try to capture the grand views along this trail, no matter how good my camera is, unfortunately there is nothing that can compare to standing on the edge of these cliffs and looking out in every direction for miles and taking in the scenery. A two dimensional photograph just doesn’t give you the same feeling of standing on a rocky ridge at 12,000 feet and looking down at a valley 1,000 feet below you. It’s hard to describe or capture the feeling of standing on a trail with no civilization in sight, and every direction you turn and look is like staring at a beautiful painting that never ends. I can take pictures of a cloud passing by, at eye level, but a picture doesn’t quite give the feeling of what it’s really like to stand still while I cloud passes at your level or even below. Think about it, when I’m at home and looking up at the clouds with my kids and picking out funny shapes, I’ve also been on the top of mountains standing in those clouds, and that’s hard to capture in a photo. This type of trip is not for everyone for lots of reasons, but I do suggest to find your way to experience this type of beauty first-hand. These photos will seem like nothing compared to the real thing, so if you think these are great, just imagine standing there yourself and seeing it in person!
I hope you enjoy the photos of parts of Colorado that most will never travel. Maybe it will inspire you to explore the trail yourself, or at least get out and explore something similar. I have enjoyed this achievement, even with all of the suffering along the way, and I still love going back through photos from all of the years. And these annual documentations of my travels are just the tip of the iceberg of photographs I have taken along the way. Keep an eye out for a photo-driven book about The Colorado Trail, I will be compiling all of the best images I have taken of the trail to start this project!
