Continental Divide Trail Horror Stories (2024 Survey)

While completing the Continental Divide Trail Hiker Survey, hikers share the moment(s), if ever, they found themselves in a situation where they felt they were in legitimate danger or when they were legitimately afraid.

The Continental Divide Trail tests mental, physical, and emotional endurance. Hikers don’t have the luxury of dictating every aspect of their hikes. Nature’s indifference, unexpected weather, or a badly timed road crossing can all result in hikers quickly becoming in over their heads.

It’s not unrealistic to say that a Continental Divide Trail hike could be someone’s final adventure – you could end up caught in an avalanche, with heatstroke in the desert, surrounded by a forest fire, drowned in a river, or in a hitch with a drunk driver (if you have a bad feeling about a hitch, don’t get in; wait for the next one). Hopefully, none of this happens during your (or your loved one’s) hike, but it’s possible.

WARNING! If you are worried about a loved one hiking the Continental Divide Trail or have doubts about whether you want to undertake this journey yourself, you should probably stop reading now (or maybe you should definitely read this).

Notes on the Data

• This year, there were 213 completed surveys. Hiking next year? Sign up to take the survey here.
• The Continental Divide Trail and thru-hiking generally use acronyms and jargon. If anything is unclear, the thru-hiker glossary may help. Please comment if you still can’t find what you’re looking for.
• Remember that each bullet point below comes from a different CDT hiker (and not me personally).
• To be notified of new survey results and posts, click here.

The Horror of Weather

• All of Glacier National Park. Winter weather was knocking on the door, several grizzly encounters and insane wind. I woke up the final morning, and my tent site was the only one in the backcountry campground that didn’t have a fresh large deadfall over it.

• I camped at treeline, and a massive thunderstorm came in the middle of the night, with lightning every few seconds. There was nothing I could do but go into lightning position and pray.

• Due to widow-makers, I had to camp in the middle of Strawberry Creek on an island. Unknown to me, a nasty front was coming through. It rained hard from 7 pm to 11 pm, continuing as I fell asleep. Going to bed, I thought I might get swept away during the night if the water rose too much. The next campsite was 5-6 miles away, and it was storming, so I didn’t have much choice.

• I got caught by a sudden and violent thunderstorm crossing a pass above treeline in the Southern San Juan Mountains. The temperature dropped to nearly freezing in minutes, and it started hailing. I had no place to shelter anywhere close, and I started to get hypothermic real fast. I spied some flattish space below the trail, got there, and erected my tent in a rush. I got in, put on all my warm clothes, and made myself a cup of tea. I could have died if that flattish spot had not been nearby.

• In the Rockies at elevations of 11,000 ft / 3,350 m or more. My hands would not work due to high winds and cold, so I wasn’t sure if I could set up my tent, if needed, light a lighter, etc. My fine motor skills were poor. Another time was on a ridge in Idaho/Montana, where I had to find a place to sleep in a lightning storm. It rained all night. I wasn’t scared per se, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if I was somehow caught up in the storm or lightning surrounding my tent and me.

• Lightning on a ridge just before Berthoud Pass. Just kept running and trying not to die.

• During a thunderstorm, we were pinned down on a ridge on the Idaho/Montana border. We had to descend to stay safe while lightning was striking around us.

The Horror of Terrain

• We did not feel informed or prepared enough to hike in the San Juans in June. I thought I would die twice.

• Climbing over two huge double blowdowns. One trunk dislodged and pivoted the other trunk up into the air and almost crushed me to death.

• Climbing up a waterfall in the Gila by myself, slippery rocks. Scary. Also coming down Wagontongue Mountain, with steep drop-offs on the right and slippery rocks/pine cones on the trail. A slip would have been bad. I was so aware of being alone and needing to be so careful.

• Having to camp under trees during high winds when many trees and branches were falling down everywhere around us on the Spotted Bear Alternate in the Bob Marshall Wilderness.

• I got hit by a falling tree.

• I am not good with exposure, so I took the South Ridge route off Gray’s Peak. I made a mistake and ended up holding onto a rock for dear life with my feet dangling, unable to get any traction, screaming for help. I somehow managed to heave myself backward out of my predicament just before someone appeared to help show me a better route through the rocks. I felt so embarrassed. I ended up scooting on my butt all the way down. I should have taken the Silverthorn Alternate.

• Because of the time of year we hiked Colorado, virtually all of it was avalanche country. The San Juans in May were the worst. Collegiates and Indian Peaks also had sketchy sections. I had to self-arrest twice.

The Horror of Hitchhiking

• I got a hitch that was driving recklessly while brandishing knives at me. I don’t think he was being malicious (just trying to show off in a weird way), but it was the scariest ride I’ve ever had.

• Agreeing to a hitch in the back of a pickup with no space left. I thought we were going to get thrown out.

• I had one hitch that drove me into town and wouldn’t let me out of the car where I wanted and argued with me.

• Hitchhiking with people under the influence.

• Hitching to/from the trail. I was very glad to have another hiker in the car with me on some of the rides.

The Horror of Humans

• Had a guy hanging out and watching us from his truck at a car-accessible campsite. When I asked him what he was up to, he said he had driven from his campsite up the road to find shelter from an approaching storm. It didn’t make sense, and no one else was around, so we packed up and headed out. It made for a long night, but we saw some moose later, so that’s a win!

• Almost being splattered by cars on road walks multiple times.

• A creepy drunk guy driving behind me on a dirt road in New Mexico.

• There was a sketchy hiker on the trail who was threatening/harassing/assaulting other hikers– feeling nervous about potentially being near him on the trail.

• I was hiking with a man for a while. After a few days,  he started talking about wild conspiracy theories he believed. Then he tried starting conversations on controversial, political topics, of which we obviously were on different sides. He waited for me at every water stop, even when I told him not to.

• A hiker called “Cottonmouth” tried to fight me. I had to threaten him with bear spray, and then I just hauled ass down the trail to get away from him. He was mentally ill and got arrested in the next town and is still in jail. It’s not a normal hiker-to-hiker interaction. My experience was a very rare occurrence on the trail. After hiking 10,000 miles, that’s the only dangerous encounter I’ve ever had with another hiker.

The Horror of Town

• Being attacked by people’s dogs north of Cuba, New Mexico.

• Hitchhiking in Chama, New Mexico, a man wanted to go by his house before dropping me off, but he didn’t want to pull over to let me out of the car.

• The highway roadwalk south of Steamboat Springs, Colorado. Fuck that road. I got a hitch as quick as I could.

• I took a wrong turn at a road walk in Montana and ended up in a compound backyard with “trespassers will be shot, survivors will be shot again” signs everywhere and two very angry dogs.

• Walking the side of the road to Muddy Pass on a cold, dreary, and foggy day as tractor-trailers and cars were screaming by me.

• A weird, crazy man was screaming and driving around in the woods on some motorcycle between Anaconda and Helena, Montana. It freaked us out, so we moved our tent in the middle of the night so he would not see us from the road.

The Horror of Animals

• Horses were an unexpected element. Even though I stepped far off to the side as required, different groups of horses became uncontrollable by their handlers. Definitely give horses a wide berth, and watch out.

• I night hiked alone a lot in Grizzly country. I always was wary of startling bears.

• The Bob Marshall Wilderness had an insane amount of bear sign (scat, prints, etc.).

• Sheepdogs out of Lima, Montana.

• When night hiking in Colorado, I glimpsed a bear cub scramble up a tree just ahead of me on the trail. I never saw the momma bear, so I wasn’t sure if she ran or was nearby, and I was scared she might attack if I continued.

• Camping solo in Grizzly country shortly after seeing a bear felt dumb.

Have a tale of woe from a Continental Divide Trail thru-hike? Leave a comment below and warn future CDT classes of the awfulness that awaits them on their thru-hikes.

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