Carolan's Blog from the Sangre de Cristo Mountains

The following can be found at the website of the Southwest Conservation Corps. The original has 2 beautiful photos with it:
http://sccorps.org/2011/05/teetering-on-the-precipice-of-a-promising-season-2/

"Teetering on the Precipice of a Promising Season"


Posted by SCC on Sunday, May 29th, 2011.

Written by Carolan Coughlin, a crew leader with the Los Valles Region:


The Beginning of the Blizzard

Here I am, reporting on the glory felt by all on the first of many 9-day hitches. Reflecting back on the blur of the busy days brings on a bout of dizziness. My mind swirls, trying to fit names to each of the delicious multi-colored mush-like dinners, trying to recall when the winter blizzards abated and when the hot mountain sun surged upon us, trying to timeline the lessons and to puzzle together the nights of hilarity with the quiet nights when we all thankfully and immediately sought out warm sleeping bags and private tent-caves.

But of course, this hitch was also made of some memorable moments. Nate, another crew leader, and I spent an afternoon trying to perfectly set our crocodile- shaped rock for a French Drain. The numbness of the icy water crept up my arms as I pivoted the rock, pulled up delicate handfuls of sandy soil, and constantly glanced at the sky, silently urging the sun to come out and bring feeling back to my fingers. The crocodile was stubborn, as rocks tend to be, and the icy water stayed icy and the sun did not heal my numbness — but the satisfaction of setting the rock helped a bit of feeling rush back through my body.

Nate, Amy, and Brandon checking out the view from the N. Crestone trail

Another day of hitch, we rejoiced in hiking to the Sangre de Cristo Wilderness sign, which, becauce of breakage, read “Angre de Cristo.” “Uh oh!” we joked, “Looks like we are actually in the Anger of Christ Mountains!” (Which is, of course, a pretend translation.) Bad joke. The next day, the mountains and the snow showed us their anger, with 6+” of snow, a blowing howl of wind, and, at times, near white out. It’s hard to work on a trail when you can’t even find it! But even hard weather couldn’t hide the beauty of this area. I sat at lunch, shivering and stunned, overwhlemed by both the cold and an appreciation of silent, frozen winter mountain minutes.

Incredibly bad expedition hairstyles (evidently an “expedition behavior” faux pas) and booming Italian operas carried us through the rest of the days, and we emerged, dirty, smelly, satisfied. And ready for a burger, a shower, and a nap.