After the wild weather of northern Colorado, we headed back to the Front Range for two days at home. Or, kind of at home, anyway. In order to make this trip work financially, we rented out our condo in Boulder with a six month lease. So when our good friend Lexi picked us up from Hessie for a second time, she dropped us off with yet another friend, Kevin, who graciously let us stay for a few nights with him and his golden retriever Phin (14/10 both incredible hosts).

*Jonathan, Kevin, Gareth, Molly, Nick, and Yuki (left to right) — a few of the wonderful humans who came to hang out as we passed through the Denver area*

In the Front Range, we knocked out some landlord duties, chatted with a few of our awesome neighbors, and Jonathan got a second steroid injection for the plantar fasciitis that has plagued him for the whole trail. We got to see some of the people we love most and worked through a whole lot of trail logistics while getting a little bit of R&R. With only a few shenanigans and an enormous amount of help from Kevin (and snuggles from Phin, of course), we made it back to Berthoud Pass and headed south into central Colorado.

On the first day of the section, we saw eight moose: five bulls, two cows, and a calf! The aspens were radiant and the weather was clear. It's amazing how much a nice day with pretty views can lift our mood. The night was one of the coldest we'd had yet. We woke up with a film of ice inside the tent and our water bottles half frozen. But newly equipped with all of our warmer gear, we were ready for it. Once again, the mountains were reminding us that the seasons were changing.

The weather was slightly better through this section, but the elevation still created some challenges. Camping above 12k feet is cold and exposed. Avoiding it can mean hiking either very short days or very long days with huge amounts of elevation gain. Generally, we've picked the latter. We were hyper-aware of the coming winter, and through this whole section we were pushing ahead to try to get to the San Juans before they became impassable.

The push to get south has meant passing through town without staying overnight. Skipping the shower and laundry to get more miles done once the groceries are in hand is sometimes the more practical decision. In Leadville, we had a good meal, stopped by our friend Andy's house to charge our phones, and received some bonus snuggles from his corgi, Nelson. Andy then dropped us back off on the trail the same evening. We stopped in Twin Lakes just long enough to drink a cup of coffee and pick up some extra snacks. At Monarch Crest, we picked up a resupply box, ate a burrito, and headed up the trail after less than two hours.

It wasn't all just a rush though. The changing colors through this section were unreal. We've never spent so much time in the mountains during this time of year, and it's been an incredible experience to watch the season change at walking speed. Of course, the aspens are eye catching (and I've taken about a million photos of them, because I have to stop and admire each individually). But so many plants are changing colors: whortleberries, gooseberries, mountain roses, and wild strawberries. The whole tundra is turning a deep shade of red. And I've been surprised by the other colors that I don't see when I'm at home: pale yellows, deep maroons, and even delicate lavenders. In the evenings, we hear elk bugling. We see herds of them lower down in the valleys as they begin descending to their winter grounds.

The day before Twin Lakes, we walked all evening in sleet, hail, and thunderstorms, but managed to camp just below the snow line. The following morning, the peaks were blanketed in snow and we marveled at how the golden hour sunshine lit up the glistening aspen leaves.

After our quick stop at the Twin Lakes store, we headed right back out and up Hope Pass, where it was snowing lightly. We decided the drier snow was a huge improvement over the cold rain. It snowed on us again at dinnertime, where we camped next to Lake Ann (~11,800ft) and again the next morning as we headed toward Cottonwood Pass.

*Emerging through the clouds on Lake Ann Pass. The Lake Ann side was blanketed in thick fog, but the view toward Cottonwood Pass was perfectly clear as we reached the pass at dawn.*

As we climbed up to the pass, a big black dog came bounding toward us. Trout! Our friend Jess followed and brought us to her truck where she pulled out a pan of freshly baked cinnamon rolls, a container of pasta salad, and a perfectly ripe peach. Heaven! We headed to Crested Butte to get one night in a warm, dry bed before charging on southward and up into even higher terrain.

*Jonathan, Sean, Jess, and Molly at Cottonwood Pass near Crested Butte, Colorado*

Leaving Cottonwood Pass the next afternoon, we managed to coordinate a meetup with the one and only Daniel Beerman aka Soapbox aka the third Captain of Us!!! Our bestie was on a two week solo adventure, heading north on the Colorado Trail, which happens to overlap the CDT for most of central Colorado. This was a very, very special moment for us both. Dan is the only person in the world who had an invite to come and hike the CDT alongside us (yeah I know, you're all clamoring to be out here getting hailed on with us). He was Jonathan's PCT hiking partner. He and his spouse, Jo, have been our home base and gear hub while on the trail. We were so incredibly excited to see him and hear about his trip! We all sat on the side of the trail swapping tales and snacks. It was a mighty fine way to spend an afternoon before we hugged goodbye and headed our respective ways.

*The captains reunite!! Pedi, Frizz, and Soapbox out on the trail ❤️*

As we headed toward the northern stretches of the San Juans, we suddenly hit the "bubble" (what hikers call the largest group of people along the trail). After seeing zero thruhikers on trail for days at a time, we ran into six hikers on the day before Monarch: Panty Pirate, Steamy, Casper, Radio, Charcuterie, and Stew. A couple days later, we camped with Ohm Boy and realized we hadn't had camp dinner with anyone else since Yellowstone. This was a good sign for us. We were about to head into the biggest, gnarliest mountains in Colorado and it felt nice that we just might not be out there completely on our own.

Fall Colors in Central Colorado

A Wet September