Horse Man and Bravestone

Miles 18.1

Camped at mm Twin Lakes, CO

Let’s make it to town, she says, as though it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Okay, I say, as though it’s the easiest thing in the world.

We packed up all our crap and zipped under the power poles and out onto the mountain. The sun crawled its way along the distant mountains, changing them from the darkest blue, to an orange hue, and eventually shooting daggers of heat into our skin. I wondered if I moved fast enough, the daggers couldn’t zero in on me and I wouldn’t get a sunburn. It was my new working theory.

Sure enough, it was hot in no time flat. We saw more poops and this time they smelled fresh. We kept our eyes peeled for mysterious forest animals. We rolled into someone else’s camp and pulled up a log for a visit.

We cooked breakfast in their camp and visited for quite some time with Bravestone. She’s freakin’ awesome. We loved her immediately. We told her about the mystery poops. She gave us her Knowledge of the Poops and said the warm ones were from horses.

Really? They didn’t look like horse. How do you know? we asked.

Because the horses are right over there, she said.

Oh, we said, and laughed.

We played leap frog with the horses and eventually the horseman stopped them for a drink at our stream. One horse had a thing on it’s face.

He can drink through that bag? Anji asked.

It’s not a bag, it’s a net. Horse Man said.

Oh, he can drink through that net? Anji asked.

Well, he’s doin’ it, ain’t he? Horse Man said, and then spurred his horse and they took off.

Rude. I said.

I don’t think so, Anji said, he’s just been out for too long. Lost his social skills.

We passed by little creeks and clear little waterfalls until we got to the Mount Massive Wilderness where we soaked my poor little feeties, and Anji’s too, in a tiny, ice cold stream that was just deep enough to cover the bottoms of my feet.

Once they were bright pink and frozen solid as a block of ice from Safeway, I put my socks and shoes on and we visited with a nice guy named Keith on trail. He’d recently done four segments of the Colorado Trail with a friend. He was really kind and we liked his vibe.

We’ve really fallen into the trail names we gained when we were on the PCT earlier this year. The longer we use them, the more we are at home saying them, and the more they seem to suit us. Anji says her name, Stone Soup, with ease, and my name, Triple Check, rolls off my tongue with no hesitation. Others even call us Stone and Trip for short. And that seems fine too.

We hiked for a long time and time was starting to press on us. We needed to be at the store in Twin Lakes by 6:30 pm to pick up our resupply boxes. The boxes of food that we’d mailed to ourselves for our next stretch. That would make a 15-ish mile day for us.

We came down into a parking lot after a rough stretch and there was Keith! He called us over and offered us actual trail magic. The first trail magic of our trip. He pulled out cold Snickers bars and ice cold Dr. Pepper from his cooler and gave them to us. He said he’d always wanted to provide trail magic and never had the opportunity. So it was a first for everyone all around. We took photos and posted them to Facebook. We were so grateful and marveled at the kindness of our bretheren. He even took my Snickers wrapper so I didn’t have to carry it. He knew exactly what hikers needed. He gave Anji water so she didn’t have to filter at the next water source, saving us time.

Then we were off to try to catch the store before they closed.

We ran that race as hard as we could. Pounding the dirt. Resting very little for the last 6 miles. We raced until my heart was in my throat. Until my breath was ragged. We reached the cutoff to the Twin Lakes Village and turned on it. It was an old, old seldom-used trail and we quickly realized that our shortcut may be a longcut and we called Bravestone.

Can you pick up our packages for us? We pleaded.

Sure. She said.

We sent her a selfie and photos of our driver’s licenses. She recovered our boxes, some hot dogs and beans, chips and salsa, and sent us photos of the lot. We were so pleased, we nearly died. But we still had to get off that mountain.

Down, down, down, down this crazy steep dirt road for 1.8 miles before we finally reached the road, then we walked on over to Bravestone’s rented cabin.

Bravestone let us take showers and plug in our electronics at her cabin. We visited with her for a long time. She went above and beyond to help us. And yes, we would do the same for her. We ate our hot dogs and beans and chips and salsa and left some of our gear there overnight, too, while we went across the street and pitched our tents behind the visitor’s center. Because one of the locals told us nobody would really care. And we believed her. And I almost pitched mine on a pile of dog shit, but other than that, everything was just peachy.

Bravestone is taking Collegiate West, and we are taking Collegiate East, but something tells me we will cross paths again.

And we were so, so grateful to Bravestone for rescuing us after such a long and painful day. And we were so grateful for our pained feet for taking us so far. And we were so grateful for our names and our lives and this world and our cozy tents.

And then it rained.