Category Archives: CDT (Continental Divide Trail)

Mission Accomplished. Made it to Canada, and ran into an old friend!

(September 19, 2018, Canada! Day 115 and 3000 miles)

Well, after 3000 miles and 115 days of hiking, I reached the Canadian border.

All smiles, I had time to dance a little jig.

And then the rain came down and it was time to move on.

Without a doubt, the hardest physical endeavor of my life. And worth every step.

After crossing the border I hitched up to Calgary where I had the pleasure of running into an old friend. A friend I had shared the road with through Sudan, the Central African Republic and Zaire back in the wild late 80s. And a friend who I hadn’t crossed paths with in the subsequent 30 years.

Catching up was the icing on the cake after hiking the CDT.

Below is the final installment of pictures and text. Thanks so much for following along and your support along the way. It meant a lot.

Bighorn sheep blockade on the trail. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Climbing out of a valley field with an inversion. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

And descending into yet another inversion. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

A climb for the future. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Had a Mexican standoff for a while with this guy on the trail. I was the first to yield. And I have a video to prove it. Check Facebook shortly and you will see for yourself! (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Headed down from a pass in Glacier National Park. The CDT is visible in the foreground and to the right. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Fall near the Canadian border. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Made it! (Selfie by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Official finishing point. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

THE END! (Of the CDT)

Note from Admin: Knowing Steven “Blast,” he’ll be off on another adventure before his face thaws out.

Day 110 – Mile 2914 – Bad Ankles, Bears, and Dead Horses

(September 14, 2018, on the CDT Pushing Towards Canada)

Hello all. 100 miles to go. And the CDT is beginning to push back.

There’s a fire up ahead that has closed some of the trails.

The weather has turned cold and snow and rain are in the forecast.

But the biggest obstacle is my right ankle, that has decided it is no longer interested in hiking and swollen up. Thought about going to a doctor but I suspect the diagnosis would be an overuse injury. (Yeah uh huh.) Anyway, I’ve been practicing my one-legged hop and am certain Canada is still reachable.

Here is the latest batch of what caught my eye.

Not too much else to tell. Though I was attacked by a wild animal in my tent. I knew it was bound to happen. About 3 AM I felt something tugging on my feet. Sure it was something that was going to drag me out of my tent I grabbed my bear spray and headlamp to do battle. But the grizzly turned out to be a large toad who had wandered into the tent and was hopping around on my feet. I put the grabs on him and he or she promptly pissed all over my hand and sleeping bag. Which greatly increased the aggressiveness of their departure.

The only other story of note involved water preparation. I filled my bottle out of a creek, added water purification drops and then a little drink powder. Right before imbibing I noticed a 1-inch long sea dragon-looking creature swimming merrily around in my bottle. Apparently immune to water purification drops. After all that preparation there was no choice. The sea dragons death coming when they hit the straining barrier of my teeth. And that’s all from the trail. On to Canada.

A very recent fire. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

The end of a typical day. Time to find a flat spot to pitch the tent. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Fall comes to a cemetery. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

A lean back in my night kitchen. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Apparently the Bob Marshall wilderness is hell on horses. As there are dead ones all over the place. Grizzly bears claim the carcass and hang out gnawing on rotting flesh. And are quite perturbed should you pass nearby. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

(Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Found a hat on the trail and decided to try out food banditry. Waited for a few hours, but no one came along. Failed criminality is depressing. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

The Chinese Wall in the Bob Marshall wilderness. The wall extends for something like 16 miles. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

The sound of this happening must have rivaled thunder. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Physics-defying wildfire victim. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

A history of northbound CDT hikers. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Getting ready to head up and over. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Grizzly bear poop. Couldn’t see any horse in it. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

The merry-go-round tree phenomenon. For some reason, one in 1,000 trees grows like this. And always reminds me of a ride on a merry-go-round. (photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

This is Steve Halteman, Signing Off from the CDT – Canada here we come!

Lincoln, Montana – 300 miles to go

(September 6, 2018, Lincoln, Montana)

I can smell the border. 300 miles to go.

Body is getting grumpy but that is what Alleve is for toward the end.

Lots of fires ahead, but I’m getting quite good at sneaking around them.

With a little luck, I’ll kiss a Mapleleaf in a couple of weeks.

Fall comes to the pine forest. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

History of a wildfire memorialized by the survivors. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

My birthday gift on the day I turned 55. Stumbled upon a 100-year-old wooden railway trestle bridge being taken over by the forest. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

The only remainder of Anaconda, Montana’s famous smelter. The brick masonry smokestack is taller than the Washington monument. At its rim, it is wide enough and strong enough for a Cadillac to complete a circumference. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

My favorite bar in Anaconda. Took my first day off since leaving Rawlins, Wyoming on August 1 in Anaconda. The plan was to relax and relax some more. But my room was over another bar and it was karaoke night. Nothing to do but sing-along from my bed until 4 AM. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Laundry after four days on the trail. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

9 PM bath for a moose. Both of us avoiding a fire up on the ridge. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

What happened when the fish crossed the road? (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

An incredibly labor-intensive fence that tracked the CDT for miles. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Getting ready to hike into an inversion, (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Bone directions to a spring. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Steven “Blast” Halteman, signing off from the CDT!

Mile 2200 on the CDT- Dodging Wildfires, Bears, and Finding Llamas

After a month of fattening up at various birthday parties held on opposite sides of the planet I got back on the trail August 1. Where I left in Rawlins, Wyoming at about mile 1600.

Small town humor. (Photo by Steven “Blast”Halteman)

Took off across the stage desert on my own for a while. Lots of old pioneer wagon trails around. Came across this sticking out of the ground. Not hard to imagine having to lighten the wagon load by jettisoning the family wrought iron bed. (Photo by Steven “Bast” Halteman)

Lonestar Geyser in Yellowstone, going off at 9 PM. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Cool stream in Yellowstone. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Now on August 20 I’m at about mile 2200. The trail has presented its usual combination of mindlessness and mindfulness as I make my way to the Canadian border hopefully before any serious snow arrives. Visually the trail has progressed from wide-open sage deserts full of wild horses and antelope into the mountains and forests of north western Wyoming. Where I passed through the gorgeous Wind river range before arriving in Yellowstone. Now I’ve crossed into Idaho where a wildfire has closed the trail in front of me. So right now I’m figuring out ways to hop the fire.

Border formalities crossing into Idaho from Wyoming. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Street address at an upper elevation in Idaho. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Everyone needs a little help now and again. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Fireweed, which is the first plant to return after a fire, brings a lot of cheer to the desolation. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Entering the Wind river mountain range. Perhaps the most beautiful spot in the US. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

The winds. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

More winds. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

And yet more winds. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Have a little time on my hands hoping the fire which is in 130 miles goes away by the time I get there. So I’ll ramble a bit. I’m on the continental divide trail. The continental divide, which I did not know before I got on it, basically means that rain that falls on the eastern slopes ends up in the Mississippi River. And rain that falls on the western slopes of the continental divide ends up in the Colorado River. There’s even a lake that is centered directly on the continental divide whose eastern outflow ends up in the Mississippi and whose western outflow ends up in the Colorado. I am basically hiking along the crest of that divide.

A few highlights of the trip since August 1.

One morning I woke up in the middle of the great basin desert and went to get some water out of a stream. Suddenly I heard an animal squeal at me from about 6 feet away. I went over to see what all the commotion was and the squealing moved another 6 feet away. So I jogged over to that 6 feet and it immediately removed itself another 6 feet away. The strange thing was the animal was invisible as I couldn’t see it. It took me about 10 minutes of chasing to figure out that my invisible animal was actually a prairie dog in its tunnel underneath the earth who was responding to my ground vibrations. The squeals making their way up to the surface through cracks in the desert.

A fellow traveler left his bear print on the trail. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Bear marking his territory. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman”

Stages of passing. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Moving through bear country now. Both grizzlies and black bears. I’ve seen one of each so far. The grizzly but 15 feet away from me on the trail. But once he got a look at my ugly self he immediately fled in the opposite direction. It’s quite fascinating to be moving along trails alone where you are possibly prey. Especially at night. Every lamp outside the scope of my headlamp a potential/certain bear. It makes one feel quite feral and completely focused on survival.

Sometimes I move through forests that have burnt down and only the skeletons of trees remain. When a high wind gets up in these forests the dead trees moan and groan in a deeply melancholy way that is painful to hear.

Dead trees moaning. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

I found Ike! Ike is a renegade llama who supports backpacking trips. Apparently 99% of llamas stay in their group and follow the rules. And then there’s Ike. Who prefers a solitary existence far from the herd. Wandering the back country. Where he escapes to every time an opportunity presents itself. Which has happened a number of times apparently. An APB was out and the entire Yellowstone park service was searching for Ike, who was to be banned from the park if he was caught before he was eaten by a grizzly. It was the talk of the park. And around the corner I came and there was Ike. Of course I had no reception, so I couldn’t call anyone with my discovery. So I tried to catch Ike and, hopefully, have him carry my pack for a while. At this I was unsuccessful and Ike and I parted ways. Good luck, my friend.

Ike, the renegade llama who prefers life on his own to that of the herd. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Took an alternate over a mountain pass called Knapsack Col. Which had one quite tricky 10 minute technical rock climb on the last upper slope of the pass crossing. It must’ve been a fresh rockslide as the rocks were quite unstable. I found this out for sure when I kicked a small rock which knocked over a suitcase size boulder over onto my shin. Once it slid down my shin the boulder settled on top of my foot. Initial attempts to remove my foot failed. As the first waves of panic arrived I recalled the guy in Utah whose arm was pinned by a boulder which forced him to cut off his arm with a Swiss Army knife. Having only a razor blade I couldn’t imagine trying to cut my foot off. As no one else was coming some more panic waves arrived. Finally after multiple attempts of rocking the boulder I managed to slip my foot out. And continue on my way, fortunately with both feet.

Wild horse with a unique white patch. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Cool little town in Wyoming. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

And finally, one evening I was pushing hard for extra miles. Coming up on 40 miles and darkness in some high Idaho mountains I rounded a bend. Not expecting for anything much to happen as had been the case for the last couple hundred miles. But
lo and behold there was all kinds of stuff going on. First a dark shape presented itself in the dusk. And then a small black shape darted out from behind the bigger black shape. Immediately my thoughts went to a mama bear with her cub. Which is almost always an unpleasant encounter as Mama Bears tend to be defensive/aggressive. As I got closer the shape reformed into a horse with a homemade saddle. And the small black shape was an Australian Shepherd dog running about. The horse was on the move but had no rider. I searched for a downed rider but couldn’t find one. A couple of miles on I came across a bunch of sheep so I figured the horse belong to a Basque sheepherder who run the sheep herds in the area. So I kept my eyes out. And instead spotted an owl sitting in a dead tree. I went over to say hello. As I love owls. The owl took one look at me, gave a hoot and then turned his head. Once again I continued on. But the owl wasn’t done with me as for the next 3 miles he flew directly over my head and then swerved left or right hunting for what I was stirring up. The owls acrobatics endlessly entertaining. The owl only departing when two white howling mastiff sheep dogs came running out of the dark with intent to devour me. A few choice rock beanings saved my legs from being dinner. I never solved the mystery of the riderless horse. But it gave me something to think about as I hiked into the night. And of course in the next hundred miles nothing happened at all after all that condensed action.

Happy trails all.

Steven “Blast” Halteman, on the CDT

Day 60 mile 1460 – Leaving Colorado, Entering Wyoming, Pt. 2

(June 23, 2018, Steven “Blast” Halteman, Hiking the CDT)

Ok..there were too many photos to put into one post!

Continuing the journey from Colorado into Wyoming…This is Pt. 2, where I meet Mountain Goats at 14,000 ft, reach the summit of Grey’s Peak, and try to solve romantic mysteries.

Five hours along a knife ridge to reach Grey’s Peak at something over 14,000 feet. Surprised this guy who went running along rocks that I was crawling over (photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Finally the summit of that Grey’s Peak (photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Roses and half a bottle of Jamison’s. An unsolved mystery at the top of a 13,000-foot peak (photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Sleepy hollow (photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Storm rolling in (photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

I guess everything has a soul (photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Wildfires or daybreak? (photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

This is Steven “Blast” Halteman…signing off till next time.

See you on the trail.

Day 60 mile 1460 – Leaving Colorado, Entering Wyoming, Pt. 1

1950s outhouse (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

(June 23, 2018, Steven “Blast” Halteman, somewhere on the CDT)

Still cruising.

About to step into Wyoming away from Colorado.

The hike endless.

Some days are magical strolling through shadowed forests alone with gossamer spider strands trailing from my face.

And some days are all mud, moose charges and endless grinding climbs upward.

Kind of like life.

A 13,000-foot pass with shades of Nepal (photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

1920s outhouse (photo by Steven”Blast” Halteman)

Old bunker at Fort Hale where the 10th Mountain Division trained for World War II (photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Trail over red slopes (photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

The remains of the Pennsylvania Mine (photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

CONTINUED on Part 2…

Day 48, mile 1075 (From Salida, Colorado)

Hello from the CDT. Still humping along. In Salida, Colorado now.

Have upped my miles to the 30 to 35 mile a day range.

Almost all the hiking is taking place between 10,000 and 14,000 feet.

The ups and downs can be a bit of a battle. But there is a perverse thrill in throwing yourself at something that seems to have a desire to prevent you from finishing.

Anyway, hope the pics are enjoyable.

Some big sky on the CDT. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Lending a helping hand, er, bicycle. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Can’t help but love the renegades (photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Man in black racing over a 13000 ft mountain at sunrise trying to beat an oncoming storm. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

A forgotten cabin on the CDT that can’t decide which direction to die in. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Old mine boiler which a marmot has claimed as home on the CDT (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Came around a corner on the CDT and looked across the valley. There was a tent where one shouldn’t have been. Scanning left I saw a Subaru hanging over a cliff. When you mindlessly walk 12 hours a day such developments can be startling. 20 minutes later I found Wendy who was waiting her for her boyfriend some 18 miles behind me. Turns out the night before she tried to park and had driven off the cliff. And accomplished something I didn’t think was possible from a physics point of view. The car was literally all resting on one wheel. The other three wheels were in the air. A scissor jack prevented the Subaru from rolling completely off the mountain. It was something to behold. So stunning that I didn’t even bother to take a photo. Eventually Man in black arrived. And together we went into rescue mode. Building rock ramps under each of the three tires and using the scissor jack to slowly leverage the car higher and higher until the point where it was almost level again. Then I got in for the attempted ramp off. Before I made the attempt I turned to Wendy and said this is either going to go very well or very badly. Are you cool with either option. Her response I’m so cool with it. Luckily it turned out well. Our reward was a lovely second breakfast of Pacifico beer, pizza Pringles and grapes. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

The only mirror around on the CDT. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

By the time I got around to the other side of the bookend a forest fire had arrived on the CDT. Hazing the entire area. Not knowing where the forest fire was I hustled down the trail hoping it was behind me rather than in front. Which it turned out to be. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Clear day on the CDT. Passing a neat bookend in the ridge cliff… (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Past avalanche wiping out dead bark beetle trees on the CDT. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Life and injury on the CDT: The slogan of the trail is Embrace the brutality. And sometimes you must do that.
Your choice. Story A. I was dragged out of my tent by a bear. Story B. I was dragged out of my tent by a mountain lion. Story C. I was crossing a steep ice slope in an area called the knife edge in the south San Juan Mountains. I was wearing microspikes and was too lazy to pull out my ice ax. Tried to get across the slope in the early morning hours when everything was frozen. Didn’t work out so well. Ass over teakettle 30 feet until I made the acquaintance of a young pine tree which arrested my fault. Somewhere along the way, my microspikes met my calf. Don’t be too hasty deciding. All are possible.
Luckily my first aid kit, which consists of hand sanitizer, was adequate to address the medical issue. (Self-portrait by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

An entire forest on the CDT killed by bark beetles. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Typical trail cairn that marks your way. Note the dead trees in the background. These were killed by a bark beetle infestation that is devastating the entire region and rolling northward on the CDT. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Moving through some overwhelming landscapes on the CDT that demand you stop and stare. And hoping you don’t you end up lying in the dirt because you tried to hike and stare! Unfortunately, an iPhone is just not capable of capturing them. But when you’re moving through them they can actually make you quite sad because they bring you to your own death and the fact that one day you won’t be able to see such things anymore. (Photo by Steven “Blast” Halteman)

Steven “Blast” Halteman, signing off from somewhere on the CDT, until next time. Thanks for visiting and keeping me company on the trail!

Day 39, 860 Miles – Slogging through the San Juan Mountains of Colorado

An update.

Well, the trail has morphed from a desert meander in New Mexico to slogging my way through the San Juan mountains of Colorado trying to find the trail under a bunch of snow and ice.

Hard going.

My daily mileage has dropped to 20 miles a day.

Mostly because of post-holing through wet snow, tree blow downs and navigational mysteries trying to figure out where the hell the trail went to.

All good fun. But taking 12 hours to go 20 miles can make you question the wisdom of such endeavors.

Now in Pagosa Springs, Colorado, waiting for my ice ax when the post office opens tomorrow. And then off for seven days of more of the same and the end of the San Juan‘s.

Hope all is well wherever you all find yourselves.

Steven “Blast” Halteman, signing off from the CDT

(Canada is only a couple thousand miles away.)

Fence that surrendered

Trail Marker

Find the bird.

Once a homestead

Man in black (trail name) on the move. A guy I teamed up with to make it through this section. Going solo would be a little silly.

A pose before heading up and over the mountains in the background.

An example of one of those challenges. You can spot the trail section in the middle of the mountain slope. The snow and ice cover either end. Which makes slipping and sliding all part of the fun. Hopefully nothing permanent. Doesn’t look like much from afar. But when you’re up there on the slope there are times when you must check your shorts.

Always north. Canada only a couple thousand miles away.

Day 27, Miles 750 – Cheated Death Again!

(On the CDT – May 23, 2018)

Well, everything was going along fine.

Which always should be a warning.

And then the wheels came off.

An irresistible side trip was to occur…wait for it…

Bearing points.

Home for the night. So far I’ve only set my tent up once the very first night because of threatening rain. Since then all dry and stargazing.

Morning trail

A valley to look forward to.

Sand river

A collared lizard. So wild and unused to humans that I put the camera about 3 inches from its head. The only cannibal lizard in the States. Eats other lizards as well as its own.

I dubbed it camel rock.

Even the cactus is in the swing of spring.

Windmill fallen from grace

Typical water source. This one is actually a spring. It was one similar to this that was to take me down.

Following the top of the Mesa

Excellent irony

Spacing out on a break

Old Indian sweat lodge on the way out of Ghost Ranch

My ambulance (see below).

Note my pack strapped to the top.

Here’s the abbreviated story. So about five days ago I came down with Giardia. Picked up from one of those water sources where I figured it was OK not to treat the water.

Giardia is an intestinal parasite that basically tears you apart inside.

Your belly swells, you constantly burp sulfur. And you projectile shit mustard incessantly. You can’t sleep or hold any water or food in.

After a couple of days wasting away by a stream I began to doubt my ability to hike forward. Which was unfortunate because there was still 70 miles to go to civilization.

I got a little gloomy about my future.

And then I heard a chainsaw in the far distance.

Managed to get up the mountain where two guys were cutting up fallen logs.

In exchange for loading up the trailer and truck with wood I got a ride to Espanola 80 miles away.

Five logs in and then out behind a tree. The two guys couldn’t stop laughing.

In Espanola an urgent care doctor confirmed my diagnosis and the fact that I had dropped 20+ pounds.

But all good now.

Antibiotics, multiple large pizzas and HBO have nursed me back to health.

Back on the trail tomorrow.

My ambulance.

Avoided.

But in Espanola I found my dream camper van. You can still make out “Bus” on the side. Going to make an offer this afternoon. Drop a 350 in it, five speed, 4 Wheel Dr. and put a bed and a little stove in the back. Would be the sweetest touring sugar shack on wheels for Klaire and I.

Found my dream camper van in Espanola.

This is Steven “Blast” Halteman, signing off.

See you soon, from somewhere on the CDT.

Day 18 on the CDT, 553 Mostly Solo Miles and Some Interesting Podcasts

(Somewhere in New Mexico, on the CDT, May 10, 2018) Hello all. Still cruising along making good time. Everything seems to be holding together. Physically anyway. Mentally though things have slipped a little. I’ve noticed hours on end where I don’t have a thought. So I’ve taken to late afternoon podcasts. Now listening to a 20 hour dialectic on the origins of World War I. Yes indeed. Have hiked solo the whole way. So far. Haven’t met anyone that matches my approach/pace. But that’s just fine. Hope all is chipper wherever you are.

And, no, I’m not captioning these yet…just some memorable moments along the trail. Enjoy!