Anna’s Mother - Christian Science Sentinel, Dec. 3, 2007
When my daughter asked for a snake for her birthday, I gulped in dread. Ever since she was a small child, she’d been fascinated with reptiles and fearless with the ones she met at petting zoos and at pet shops. I, on the other hand, had a lifelong fear of snakes and had largely managed to avoid them. One time when I found a king snake in the greenhouse of our New Mexico home, I had to call a neighbor to remove it while I hid in another room. Disturbed as I was at the thought of living with a snake, I felt that my anxiety was not a valid enough reason to turn down my daughter’s request. She’d put in many hours of research, proving herself ready and able to care for an animal. She encouraged me by writing up pages of information with pictures of the type of snake she’d selected and spoke enthusiastically about the attractive appearance and disposition of the breed she’d chosen.
by Steve Helmer
Well, join the club. Sadly, a lot of families live in that space. Getting the keys to the car, setting curfew, making college choices—even being the "right" kind of Christian Scientist.
As a new foster parent with teens, I’ve been thinking hard about what is fair and right and helpful—and about keeping the peace at home.
All day long we had been seeing Border Patrol vehicles, National Guard observation posts, discarded migrant water jugs painted black, humanitarian aid stations, and brushed out tracks. We knew the US/Mexican line was getting close, but then dropping down off the Florida Mountains into the Chihuahua desert at dusk yesterday evening we could see the lights of Palomas Mexico twinkling south of us. 
Suddenly the border, and then end of this trip felt so immanent. It was a long, 30+ mile day, and we had time as we walked through the twilight to reflect together on things we’ve loved and the things we’ll miss most about this journey.
I’ll miss the simplicity of days on the trail together, and not having to ask the girls at the end of the day, “how was your day?” because we were together. I’ll miss the distinct feeling of teamwork in the family, working together at accomplishing something of meaning. I’ll miss the connection to the natural world, and being students together with our children of its lessons. I’ll miss the nights on the trail, cooking together, reading aloud around a little fire, sleeping all snuggled up in the tent and knowing the whole family is safe. I’ll also miss being able to answer the questions of those like the cowboy yesterday morning, “hey, what are you all doing?” with “hiking from Canada to Mexico” and hearing him respond “Well da-gum!” (more…)
(from the Medicine Bow Mountains in Wyoming to Mexico)
The sun is setting across the Florida Mountains, the last small range of peaks between us and the Mexican border just 70 miles south. Today at lunch we shared highlights with each other from this past 3 months of trekking southbound since Canada. Here are a few…
Due to the remoteness of the Continental Divide Trail and the relatively few people that attempt it each year (20-30), we expected to be largely separate from the other CDT hikers. This proved to be the case for the first six weeks or so, until in central Montana when we hit a whole mob of south bound hikers. All of them had really bizarre names, like Princess of Darkness, Skittles, Lovebarge, Pi, and Disco…at that point we found out about “Trail Names.” (more…)
I can’t even describe how ready I was for this…it’s 70 degrees, sunny, and beautiful down here in the Gila Wilderness. We just spent 3 days hiking down the Gila River. We left from the uplands by Snow Lake with the knowledge from other hikers that it was cold down in the canyon with lots of stream crossings and plenteous poison ivy. But we lucked into a balmy spell and the only thing that proved true was the amount of stream crossings which made for cold feet in the early morning.
On our first night in the canyon we decided to put the tarp up like a lean-to so that we could see the stars. Snuggled up together in our bags, watching shooting stars and trying to figure out what the heck it was dad was pointing at as he taught us constellations was good fun. (more…)
After 4 1/2 months with our beloved, comic, trusting and strong friends, - our burros (small donkeys) Wellstone and Pingora, - we were finally forced by snows and slippery trails to send them home to the Ranches and continue south without them. However, we know that they will love the next few months enjoying their shed, and with nothing to do but eat, get fat and soak up some sun.
We miss them so much! For one, they are highly entertaining. One day, after a long, hard walk, we arrived exhausted at our re-supply truck complete with hay and water for the burros. Because they love to roll in sand or dirt – it’s one of their most favorite activities – we let them loose briefly. Upon discovering his freedom, Wellstone took off running down the road with Ping in hot pursuit – both at a fast gallop. Cody took off cross-country hoping to cut them off on the far side of the road’s switch back. She hightailed it for about a mile and it looked close as she closed in on the far side of the road. Although we were all cheering for her, she arrived on the road just as the donkeys went flying by. Knowing we may need a back-up plan, Bobby had also begun chasing them down, and after another mile or so of some good sprinting, was able to catch up with Pingora, whom, we believe was beginning to doubt Wellstone’s reasoning in leaving all their food and water and was slightly slowing. Once Pingora was captured, we were able to use her as “bait” to catch Wellstone as neither of them likes to leave the other. Needless to say, that experience made us a lot more careful about letting them loose. (more…)
New Mexico license plates say the “Land of Enchantment” and for us as snow weary hikers dropping down from the Colorado high country it has certainly rung true.We worked our way south across the mesa tops, lava fields and arroyos the past couple of weeks enchanted by the fiery sunsets, Anasazi pot shards poking through the sandy soil, and the by the warmth of the locals. (more…)
By Jesse Faith. The Continental Divide in Colorado runs over some of the tallest and roughest country in America and reaches it’s highest point as it crosses the 14,267 foot Grays and Torreys Peaks. Although we have been hiking up and down the Divide for months now, I had for some reason worked this peak day up in my mind to the point that I was fully convinced with the snowy conditions that I simply wouldn’t have the fortitude to make it. Silly to feel that way? Of course, seeing as how I have climbed eleven other fourteeners and have had years of backcountry preparation and experience, but nevertheless that’s how I felt. Fear doesn’t always make sense. Sometimes it just is there. (more…)
By Cody. Weimenuche Wilderness, San Juan Mountains, Colorado, 11,000 feet, 10 inches of snow, early morning, 20 degrees.
I was standing in the middle of a flood-swollen creek on a little rock island about to jump for the far bank. Dad had already made it across. Mom and Jess were looking for a more promising way. It wasn’t a very big jump really. Only about 4 feet or so, and I thought even with my pack I could make it no problem. I grabbed on to the little tree next to me, steadied my trekking pole, checked my footing, and jumped. My left foot stuck in the snow on the far bank, but my right foot slipped back into the creek and next thing I knew is was sitting waist deep in the rushing ice water observing my wool hat floating off down stream with my sunglasses. My dad ran over and could see that I was about to cry with frustration. We quickly dried my camera and I changed into dry clothes. Dern - those were cute sunglasses too. That stream crossing, which dad deemed “Tofu’s demise” was the 5th of the morning. By nightfall we had walked 20 of the toughest miles of the trip and crossed 65 more.
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It was bound to be a hard section from the start - at least as far as trail conditions go. The trail, or more accurately, the “trench,” was wickedly impossible to walk in. It was steep on both sides, narrow, and filled a foot deep with mud, water, snow. The day before we covered a modest 14 miles and were pretty worn out. We were up high and it had gotten dark by the time we stopped and began to look for a campsite with somewhat less snow than all the other snow covered places around us. (more…)
