Darkness Descends

Miles 8.5

Camped at mm Salida Hostel

TRIGGER WARNING: VIOLENCE AGAINST WOMEN

Anji there’s someone coming! I said in a hushed but frantic tone. We both leaped out of our tents. It was 4:40 am. There were lights all over in the forest, headlamps, and we could hear men saying things but couldn’t make sense of it at all.
Hello? HELLO? We called out…no answer.
Abandoning Sleep, we got up and packed up our belongings to leave.
My heart was in my throat.
What was going on? Was it Search and Rescue? Was it cowboys who lost an animal? Why were so many people in the forest so early?
We walked down the trail and finally saw some people coming toward us. With some apprehension, I called out again. Hello?
Hello, he said.
What’s going on? What are you all doing? I asked.
Oh, we’re climbing that mountain! We have to get an early start. It’s a big one! He laughed and moved on.
We were so relieved.
2.6 miles later we came across a small stream. We stopped with the intention to get water to replace our cow poop laced water we were currently drinking.
I looked at the Far Out app. Hey Anji, it looks like there’s a Forest Service campground with potable water, picnic tables, and bathrooms 0.4 miles from here on almost level trail. Let’s go there instead for breakfast and get some water, I said.
Sounds good, she said.
We walked through the woods until we saw a building that looked like a bathroom. We cut through the woods and saw a picnic table at site number 4 and set our packs down. I pulled some stuff out and set it on the table so I could get to my filter, and grabbed my water bottles while Anji asked a camper where the water was. He told her, and we found it was a hand water pump. We rinsed out the poop-water from the water bottles and the water filters and filled them with fresh, clean water.
So grateful.
We sat at the picnic table and made our breakfast, feeling all civilized.
A man walked up.
“What is this, another freeloader situation? Don’t you know this is a FEE campground, not a FREE campground?” He said, coming at us, hot and angry.
“Hi sir, are you the camp host?” Anji asked.
“Yes I am!” He yelled.
“What’s your name, sir?” Anji asked politely.
“You’ll never get MY name, LADY.” He said.
Anji took out her camera and took a photo of him. He flipped her off.
He quickly moved closer.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He yelled.
“We’re eating our breakfast.” We both responded.
“You need to leave. NOW.” He said.
“No. I just made my breakfast. I’m backpacking. I can’t put my coffee and my breakfast back in my backpack. I’m going to sit here and finish my breakfast and then we will move along. If there’s a day use fee, we’ll pay it.” Anji said calmly.
He picked up her trekking pole from the end of the table and held it like a javelin and made sudden and violent stabbing motions at Anji’s face with it, stopping within a few inches of her face.
“Whoa Whoa Whoa!” I yelled.
He threw it on the ground.
She took another photo.
He took off his baseball cap and slammed it down in front of Anji’s face, covering her phone. Then grabbed it back again.
I stood up and said, “Back the Fuck Off!”
He came at me.
I turned my phone on video and stuck out my finger at arm’s length.
“YOU’D BETTER BACK THE FUCK OFF!” I yelled at him.
He grabbed my hand. I broke loose and put my finger out again. He turned around and left.
My hands were shaking but I tried to eat really fast. She was right. We literally couldn’t carry everything, and we only had so many breakfasts. We couldn’t throw this one away.
I tried to call my husband to see if there was a police non-emergency line I could call to report the incident but he didn’t answer the phone.
“Are you calling the police?” Anji asked.
“I’m thinking about it.” I responded.
I saw him coming back.
“Get your video ready. Here he comes again!” I said.
“I WONDER IF THIS WORKS AS WELL ON WOMEN AS IT DOES ON BEARS!” He called out as he pulled out a large canister of bear spray.
Anji jumped up from the picnic table and started her video.
I called 911.
The call kept dropping. I kept telling dispatch we were being attacked by the camp host at Angel of Shivano campground.
Anji said. “You’re threatening me with pepper spray? You’re threatening me with bear spray now? I’ve got this on video. We’re calling the sheriff’s department. Yeah, maybe there’s a day use fee. I’d be happy to pay it.”
He sprayed the bear spray towards her.
“You just sprayed bear spray at me. That’s assault.” Anji said.
All the while I was trying to talk to dispatch and the line kept dropping. Reception was terrible.
He left again. I tossed out my coffee. We packed up our stuff and I carried my breakfast in one hand and my trekking poles in the other and we escaped into the woods.
Once we felt safe, we sat down on a log and I finished my breakfast. I had to drink it because my hands were shaking too hard to use a spoon.
RIght when I finished and packed up, we put on our packs to leave and we heard someone call out.
Oh God, here he comes again, I thought, and sped up. Anji turned around. It was the police.
We were so grateful they were there. We told the deputy what happened and showed him the videos. He said he had the discretion to put him in handcuffs and take him to the station but that he’d be released within a few hours. We all agreed that a summons to court would be acceptable.
We finally left and hiked on. When we got enough cell service to make a real call that wouldn’t be dropped, I called my husband.
The first words out of his mouth were, “Oh sweetie. Something really bad has happened. Is Anji there with you? It’s really bad.”
“Oh God, I said. ANJI I NEED YOU!” I put the phone on speaker.
“Bosco died. I’m so sorry.” Bosco was my favorite goat. My alpha. The leader of my herd. He’d recently been attacked by a bear while defending the herd and his wounds had become infected. We thought he’d been getting better on his antibiotics…
I nearly fell to the ground with sorrow.
Then we told my husband of the assault.
Then I called my mom. She said she was digging a grave for Bosco. Brave, brave Bosco. My boy. My sweet darling boy.
We spent the majority of the day making calls to the vet about a necropsy. Talking to my mom about getting the necropsy done before burying Bosco. Mom talking to the newspaper to do an article about the death of beloved and infamous Bosco of High Sierra Pack Goats. Loved by the whole city. A community in mourning.
Anji talking to her husband, who is a Deputy District Attorney about the next steps in the criminal case against the camp host. Anji making calls to the Forest Service and the Colorado Trail Foundation to let them know what happened with the camp host.
Kim, a trail angel, had waited for an hour with Barnes to take us to town. She threw her arms around me and held me like a child. I clung to her for a long time and cried. She was, indeed, an angel. She piled us into her super fancy van and gave us soda and took us into Salida to the hostel so we could pick up our box of food that was waiting for us.
No one was around. The sign said they’d be back at 4. We called every phone number. I just wanted to go back to trail and sleep in the woods.
There was a sign stating $5 for a load of laundry. So we did a load of laundry and took showers and waited for someone who worked there to show up.
When he finally did, I told him we owed him for laundry and showers and we’d like to get our box so we could head out.
“There’s no such thing as just doing laundry and taking showers. You owe me $35 a piece for staying here now.” He said. I was so upset. Held hostage at a hostel.
We ended up having to pay him, so we spent the night. Angry, hurt, upset, devestated by loss, and sleeping in a bowed, squeaky bed with a strangely hard pillow.