“Let’s go to Denver,” John said. I did a double take. Did I just hear him right? Denver was two hours away; getting them back to the trailhead in the morning would be a challenge.
“Let’s go,” he repeated. “Let’s go to Denver.”
I was confused. All I had planned to do was drop off their backpacks and skedaddle back to Denver to return my rental car. Now he wanted to go with me?
The Colorado Trail is a 500-mile trail through the Rockies from Denver to Durango
Everything had been going according to plan. John and the boys hiked from Breckenridge to the end of segment 11 while I hung out in Denver and then flew to Atlanta. When I got back I rented a car and drove to Buena Vista.
During that time, they had hiked 100 miles (to make an overall total of 200) and were ready for a day off. I picked them up at the trailhead and we headed to a hotel for some R & R. All three showered and we washed clothes. They rested and watched TV and ate good, fresh food.
We had heard about segment 12 through the hikers’ grapevine – high winds had created a nasty blowdown section that was impassable due to layer upon layer of fallen trees. We had decided that I would drive them around that segment and deposit them at the beginning of segment 13.
But then rumors started flying. “Segment 12 is passable! Still a lot of trees to climb over, but they’ve cleaned up the small stuff.” A quick search online confirmed it.
The Colorado Trail is comprised of 28 segments, generally starting and ending at trailheads with vehicle access.
“Maybe we can do the whole segment in one day,” John mused as he lay on the bed watching CNN. “If we didn’t have backpacks, I think we could do the whole 18.5 miles in one day.”
It was decided. I would drop John and the boys off early in the morning at the beginning of the segment. They would hike to the next trailhead, where I would meet them with their backpacks.
“You’ll need to be there no later than 4 in the afternoon,” I reminded my boys as I kissed them goodbye just as the sun was starting to illuminate the trail. “I need to get the rental car back to Denver by 7.”
By the time I reached the trailhead in the afternoon, it was pouring rain. Davy made a beeline for the car and scrambled into the front seat. “Dad and Daryl are still hiking,” he said. “They’ll be here later.”
“How was the hike?” I asked. “Did you have a good day?”
“It was OK,” he replied, “but I think I really prefer biking. I don’t like the hiking so much. It’s too slow.”
“You’ve only got 300 miles left,” I told him. “It’ll take another month or so.”
“I know. But I don’t really want to do it. Can I go back to Idaho with you?”
On the trail, you need to be completely self-sufficient. You'll frequently camp above treeline with no shelter whatsoever.
The boys had always known that was an option, but so far I hadn’t heard any talk of it. The previous evening, as we watched the news reports about Colorado being on fire, Davy had told us he didn’t feel comfortable being on the trail knowing a massive forest fire could engulf them at any moment, but he never said he wanted to bail. That said, I had known all along that he wasn’t thrilled with the backpacking.
A while later John and Daryl came down the hill and scurried over to the car. Rain pounded on the windshield as we chatted about their day. “It wasn’t too bad,” John told me. “We needed to climb over a lot of trees in one section, but otherwise it was OK. I’m tired though – 18.5 miles is a long way. The hard part was that Davy really didn’t want to be there. He needs to go back with you.”
I sat in the driver’s seat, tapping my foot, antsy to get on my way. I hadn’t expected them to climb in the car at all – the plan was simply to drop the packs and head out to Denver. The clock ticked. The rain poured.
“Hey Daryl,” John turned to his son in the back seat. “How badly do you want to do this thing?”
“I’d kinda like to finish, but it’s not a big deal.”
“Let’s go to Denver,” John said. “Let’s just go.”
Would things have been different if they weren’t exhausted from the long day? If it hadn’t been pouring rain? If John hadn’t been so chafed? If there weren’t so many fires raging throughout the state? If I didn’t need to get the rental car back to the Denver? In the end, we’ll never know.
The highest pass on the Colorado Trail is over 13,000 feet.
What we do know is that they made the decision to bail. There were some things they enjoyed, and other things they didn’t. In the end, they decided the rewards were overwhelmed by the challenges.
“Did you know this is the first time I’ve ever not finished something I set out to do?” John mumbled as I drove through the Rockies toward Denver. “Ever. I’ve cycled across the US five times. I’ve cycled the length of Norway and 2/3 of the way around Australia. I’ve done the PanAm. The thought never occurred to me to give up before I finished.”
That, I think, was the hardest part for John. He quit. For the first time in his life. He set out to do something and didn’t achieve it. He could have. It wasn’t that there was a forest fire raging right on the trail and there was no way to get through. It wasn’t that he wasn’t capable of climbing the passes. It wasn’t that he couldn’t do it, but that he didn’t want to do it anymore. And that was a difficult decision to make.
I think back to the day in Argentina when I hit bottom. It had been a particularly hard stretch of the road with long stretches of bad dirt road, high heat, biting flies, and 20-mile climbs across the foothills of the Andes. I was exhausted. I was tired of it all. The fun had gone out of our journey and I was functioning on nothing more than sheer grit and determination.
“How long do we wait before calling it off?” I asked. “There have been plenty of days that weren’t fun. The day in Guatemala when both kids had diarrhea and we were pushing our bikes up an outrageously steep, dusty hill and our bodies were covered with mud wasn’t very fun. Or when Davy and I were being chased by a bear – that wasn’t very fun either. It wasn’t fun battling headwinds along the Peruvian coast day after day after day – for 1500 miles. So the question then becomes – is this just a passing thing, or has the fun truly gone out of our journey? How do we know?”
On that journey, we decided the rewards of continuing on were greater than the price we needed to pay. On the Colorado Trail, it was different. When we looked at the reward/cost balance scale, it tipped a bit too far one way. The costs were no longer worth it.
The rewards, while certainly still there, weren’t important enough to us to push through the pain.
And that, dear reader, is my takeaway from this little jaunt through the woods. There comes a time when you realize the dream just isn’t worth it any more. As you planned and prepared, you had one thing in mind, but reality was different. Different can be good, but isn’t always. There comes a time when you say, “My dream has changed. Maybe I don’t want to do this after all.”
As I said way back in Argentina that day, “when the fun is gone, it’s time to call it quits.” I would amend that to say, “When the fun is gone – and you can’t see it coming back in at any point – then it’s time to call it quits.”
We called it quits and are now back in Boise. We no longer have to worry about a forest fire erupting right next to the trail. We don’t need to worry about running out of water due to low snowfall last winter. Those high passes won’t be traversed in the middle of massive thunder storms. We’re in Boise tubing down the Boise River instead. And that is a good thing.
Hiking the Colorado Trail
To save on weight and space, they all shared one pot for meals.
Davy really enjoyed certain aspects of the journey, but not the slow pace.
The best part of not having Mom along was not having to take baths in ice cold streams.
They still had to filter water from those streams though. It's a lot of work to filter enough water for three people for fifteen miles or so.
The trail is well marked and easy to follow. If a fire happened to come broadside, however, they would have been trapped.
The wilderness areas were nice as mountain bikes weren't allowed. It was difficult to get off the trail every few minutes for bikes to whizz past.
Marmots are nature's gift to hikers. They're cute little buggars.
A bit of luxury at the Pine Ridge Condo in Breckenridge was incredible after 100 miles on the trail.
Just as many Road Angels helped us out while we were biking, trail angels work to make hikers' lives easier by leaving water or sodas along the trail.
John has always loved being up in the mountains. The more remote, the better.
Many, many thanks to Pine Ridge Condos in Breckenridge for hosting us as we passed through. It was a bit of well-deserved and needed luxury.
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When it’s time to call it quits to a dream is a post from: Family on Bikes. Sign up for our monthly newsletter to receive your free e-book: Bicycle Touring with Children; A Guide to Getting Started.
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Kerry Lauerman
Joan Walsh
Salon.com
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