This event happened as a result of me having a bit of a pity party resulting from a good deal of hiking anxiety. The reason that developed is because the hiking I am doing with my sister is relatively benign, resulting from her inability to engage in a 'real man's' hike.

I, on the other hand, was pining for a real gut buster hike that taxed me to my limit. Suffice to say, I got it.

One of the characteristics of our God, is that when you ask for things, he will frequently say, "OK, but remember you asked for this! I had adequate opportunity to ruminate on that at length during the two-day period I was out during this endurance test. This time was available to me, especially during the second day, as I was having to take a long-term break about every 100', during which rumination was always the order of the day.

So, why did I choose this particular hike, which promised to give 'gut buster' a completely new meaning?

Well, it was actually a process of elimination, along with a little shove from the Lord, as my initial plan was to begin at the CDT's southern terminus, and hike to Lordsburg, NM... a distance of 88.5 miles (and essentially desert hiking for the entirety of this distance).

I was watching the daytime temperatures, and was, to be sure, getting a little bit nervous. But I had the devil whispering in my ear, "Hey! You got a good hat, and an umbrella. That will make it a breeze. Right. A breeze indeed.

One morning during breakfast, I got what I would call a 'bullet' message from the Lord, "How about doing the second section. At least it will be higher for some of this silliness."

That made just too much sense to ignore, and so I immediately switched the venue to the second section of this area, Lordsburg to Silver City. And I cannot overstate how glad I am that this time I actually paid attention. Too often we males, at a juncture like this, tell the Lord, hey, I can handle this! And he just smiles and notes, "Fine, just don't call on me when you rear is in the fire... and trust me, it will be."

And so, bright and early Tuesday morning, sister is driving me down to Lordsburg to begin this section of the trail. The first 'omen' was the fact that there was nothing concrete to tell you where the trail actually began. I finally took a WAG (wild-###-guess), and started off across the desert. It was clear that the areas with heavy vegetation were to be avoided if possible, and suffice to say, they weren't always avoidable. Then there were fences to cross and since I didn't actually zero-in on the CDT until about 6 miles along on this venture, a lot of the fence crossings were far from ideal.

I did run into one of the locals but I didn't get a chance to ask him for directions as he appeared to be a mite unfriendly, and the ruckus he was creating with his (6-7) rattles prohibited any meaningful conversation.

Another issue here is that the pack was a mite heavy, and the mid-80's temperatures, meant that I began to weary of this nonsense early in the afternoon. But, at this point, there was a very limited menu of options, so on we continued. Fortunately at about the 6 mile point I ran into the first of the CDT mileposts and that at least gave one the confidence that I was on the right route. But for the most part, it was necessary to spot the next route sign before trudging past the one you were hanging onto for support. :-)

Sadly, long after I would have very much liked to bag this nonsense and camped, I could not, as I was fast running out of water, and therefore had to continue until I found some... which, in the desert, is not simply around the next bend.

Since I knew that there was water at the 11.1 mile point, I had little choice but to keep trudging on till I found it. Finally, very close to sundown, I noticed a great gaggle of cows up at the top of the hill, and figured, correctly... WATER!

Fortunately, this gaggle of steaks-on-the-hoof had mostly drunk their fill, and therefore I had easy access to the source. Also, since there were so many of them, and the source was rapidly filling, the water was clear and somewhat chilled. These cow water sources can frequently be algae-filled, and looking less than wholesome. Since we filter our water, that isn't a real big issue, but I have heard of sources with dead mice and other delights in the water. Filter or no, a dead mouse in the water is a real damper on chug-a-lug desire.

Remember when I noted that it was almost sundown? Well, my light was disappearing by the numbers, but that didn't turn out to be a real drawback, as I was so thoroughly trashed that all I wanted to do was get horizontal. I wasn't even keen on putting up the tent. I threw it down on the ground, puffed up my sleeping pad, crawled into the sleeping bag, and bagged this entire venture... at least until morning.

Naturally, just because you are planning on sleeping, doesn't mean that the devil says, "Oh crap, I guess I'll just have to wait until morning to beat him up some more. Nombre! (meaning in Spain, no way Jose!) Just as I got snuggled into the sleeping arrangement, up comes the wind... lots of wind... wind that continued all night long, and went on unabated until after I crossed the pass below Mt. Hornbook to the northside of this cliff sometime after noon. During the night, maybe 2-3am, at one point my blow-up pillow departed down the drainage, meaning an early-AM trip down the dry creek. By the time I got my pillow back, and other nessary actions, I was shaking like a leaf. I only had on undies and no shirt (yeah, I know, you don't want to contemplate that picture), so the wind was free to dissipate what little heat I had. And dissipate it, it did.

Fortunately, there was not a need to engage in more treks outside the bag, so aside from the constant bloody wind freezing my face, it was relatively peaceful for the rest of the night.

In the morning, I made my coffee/breakfast, and trudged on up the trail. It didn't take long to get uncomfortably warm, and my energy was disappearing faster than merchandise at a super-sale.

By the time I got to the top of the pass near Mt. Hornbook, I was thoroughly used up and had more miles (maybe 4) to go to get to Hwy 90 where I was to meet my sister who I had previously called for a rescue. I felt that I had squeezed the last bit of essential oil of enjoyment out of this entire project. And I had.

If you look at the pictures, take note of the type of terrain I was hiking in. Much of it was very similar to hiking in sand, and therefore extremely taxing. If you look at the maps, note that the first time I ran into a real trail was after crossing the pass below Mt. Hornbook. The rest of the time it had been road/desert hiking. Ugh!