The Worst Moments of the Continental Divide Trail (2024 Survey)

During the Continental Divide Trail Hiker Survey, in addition to sharing the scariest moments of their CDT thru-hikes, CDT hikers also share the lowest moment(s) of the trail.

Hiking the CDT means more than blindly wandering down a path filled with trail angels eager to help hikers on their journey across the Continental Divide. A lot of the trail can, to put it plainly, suck. And sometimes, it sucks a lot.

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.

Social Sadness

• Due to a fall, I had a bad injury at the start of the hike and had to get off the trail for several days. I was on a restrictive diet afterwards for three weeks, causing a slow hiking pace and weight loss, so I always hiked alone for the rest of the trail.

• Getting back on the trail after visiting family for a couple of days. In the middle of a lot of snow, avalanche hazard, fires, flipping to the Basin, gear lost in the mail, and a scary hiker on the trail. Seemed like everything that could go wrong was going wrong.

• At the start of the trail, I had a hard time mentally. I wasn’t sure if I was doing the hike for the right reasons. I had left my wife back home and had trouble getting into the groove.

• Moments when the community was distracted/divided by the idiotic websites and their online debates, losing focus on being outside.

• Getting injured after having just taken five zeros for a wedding. I fell far behind most people I knew, after being excited about the prospect of going fast to catch up.

Weather Woes

• My last day before coming out of Yellowstone and getting into town. I was rained on 4 days in a row, mostly by myself. I just hiked 28 mi / 45 km through rugged terrain in rain and a little hail. Finally cleared up and made camp close to a river at the bottom of the valley below the slot canyon. Woke up the coldest I’ve ever been. I had to run around camp to get the feeling back in my fingers to pack up. All by myself. Everything is frosted and or wet from the previous days. And still had to hike 15-20 miles (24-32 km) to the highway for a hitch into town. That left me with a lot of doubt about the upcoming sections in Wyoming and Colorado.

• Between Breckenridge and Denver, I had to bail out and chose day hikes or slackpacking to get me through. The weather was unfavorable due to high winds, rain/hail, low visibility, and sheer cold, which made me scared and unable to survive at unexposed high altitudes. I questioned if I could even make it. I had a friend help me piece together lower-elevation day hikes until a better weather window allowed me to get the high-elevation section in before moving north.

• I know everyone hates rain, but there was a stretch in northern Colorado around Grand Lake where it felt like it rained every evening and morning, which meant setting up and taking down camp soaking wet. I was begging to be in the hot, dry Basin. It might’ve been the Bob if I hadn’t been with friends. Don’t Bob alone!

• Hiking by myself in the Bob in the pouring rain. I was pushing for miles, soaked and in pain. My tent flooded for the third time in the first week that night. I couldn’t dry anything out and spent the night shivering and awake.

• There was a snowstorm and cold snap in the Tularosa Mountains, just above the Middle Fork Gila River. I had sent my Gore-Tex gloves home and couldn’t dry out my quilt, leading to several freezing and lonely nights.

Unforeseen Sadness

• I had a day on the Mirror Lake alternate when I suddenly just did not want to walk anymore. I didn’t want to hike up any more mountains that didn’t go anywhere, walk on difficult rocks, be rained on, or have to pack up a wet tent anymore. Later, going over the pass SOBO of the Cochetopa River, I lost vision in my eye. I figured that this, plus my persistent headache, sleep and breathing problems, must be from the altitude, and I finished my LASH on low-elevation alternates. I felt (and still feel) defeated and old, but at least I touched the New Mexico border as planned.

• Every damn day. This trail is an ass-kicker. But the worst was seeing the headlights of a ride I needed, full-tilt running several miles to the trailhead, and just missing them. Staring at their retreating, far-away taillights in the dark, knowing no other car was coming. Or, almost falling off a 2000 ft / 610 m slope because the mashed potato snow mushed into the loose gravel and made it a slide. Or not sleeping for weeks because of the body-covering fly bites. Others too. Hard to pick just one.

• I planned on taking the Gila River alternate, and was merrily hiking along looking for a clear turn off. I was saving power on my cell, so I was not looking at FarOut much. I hiked and hiked, wondering why there were no people. Camped, and next morning my husband texted via Garmin that I had missed the trail, was 10 mi / 16 km off course, and was headed into the Aldo Leopold Black Range! I had to retrace 10 mi / 16 km of difficult terrain, fell twice, but finally got back on route.

• Just a few days after restarting, south of Lima, in the morning, mosquitos destroyed me, in the afternoon, minimal water and a 3,000 ft / 915 m climb in direct hot sun (no shade whatsoever), I had some heat exhaustion.

• I nearly had my toe amputated due to an infected blister. I had to take two weeks off the trail and carried a bulky med kit with me for the rest of the trail so I could change my wound wrappings.

• My girlfriend was suddenly diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer, so I got off the trail, and she passed a day after I got home. She was pretty great, and it kind of wrecked me.

Sick and Injured

• Overuse injury in my knee after the San Juans in Colorado, which was close to ending my hike and slowed me down significantly, so I had to take the Super Butte Cutoff to complete the trail before my visa ran out. Also, two days and nights of constant rain while hiking what felt like continuously uphill without any nice views due to the rain, and waking up to pools of water in my tent, soaking my gear.

• I had to hike for days on end with a urinary tract infection. Once I got to town, I realized that I would likely have to end the hike earlier than planned. The hike had gone well so far, but the constant pain really got to me. The next section was very remote, with no clinic or hospital nearby, and I decided I could not safely continue.

• When I hiked over the Top of Grays Peak down to I-70 and ate lunch there, my urine was almost black. I tried to take it easier the rest of the day, but I got stuck on a ridge for two or three hours longer than I wanted. This showed that while physically I could thru-hike, the mental stress from the terrain and weather could not be overcome.

• Randomly getting shin splints after hiking over 2500 mi /4,023 km, crying from the pain, hiking into Pie Town.

• I struggled with multiple injuries and a sickness very early on. I fell far enough behind in the first two months; I camped with others only three times after Glacier National Park, which had become a drag. That, plus a late start, led me to take the Big Sky Cutoff. I was already disappointed in the need to take that alternate, but I needed to reach and complete the San Juan Mountains before the snow, and I wanted to catch up with other hikers. The negative and hypocritical attitude of some “influential” hikers towards those who took the Big Sky was very disappointing.

• I had Giardia while attempting the Pfiffner Traverse and was super nauseous trying to climb passes and could only do 10 mi / 16 km a day. I was very close to bailing, but my partner supported me in going slower and stayed with me.

• I hiked up Grays Peak with a respiratory infection and then had to endure the ridge walk to finally get back down. There was a lot of coughing and stopping, to the point where I wasn’t sure if I would make it.

New Mexico Misery

• On the second day northbound, I fell into deep heat exhaustion and nearly had heatstroke. Completely incapacitated and unable to move. My mind was wholly numb. I felt so pathetic and miserable that quitting felt like a knock on the door.

• Infected blister in the middle of nowhere, New Mexico. I had to hike 20 mi / 32 km in Crocs to get to a trailhead and get medical help.

Colorado Catastrophes

• We started hiking early in the morning on a ridge in Colorado to stay ahead of a thunderstorm. Around 9 a.m., we suddenly were in a whiteout, and half an hour later, the wind picked up with almost hurricane speed. Later, rain started pouring down, and we had to bail because we began to become hypothermic.

• From Creede, Colorado, to Wolf Creek Pass/Highway 160, I struggled physically, mentally, and emotionally. I was hiking alone and was burnt out from all the elevation in Colorado. Due to weather circumstances, I wasn’t making miles. I ended up going into Pagosa Springs to recoup and reset, which helped tremendously.

• In Colorado, by Lost Ranger Peak, a thunderstorm rolled in, and the trail did not drop in elevation for another 15 mi / 26 km. Freezing rain, blown sideways by 30mph / 48 km/h winds, was the closest I’ve gotten to hypothermia in my life. I kept thinking, “Just don’t stop; keep moving, and you’ll be okay.”

• The first section was in the San Juans in Colorado. There was still so much snow, and I had no experience in snow or mountain hiking whatsoever. I had to use my ice axe several times and do traverses and glissades that I felt uncomfortable doing.

• I snapped my trekking pole from postholing in the snow about 30 mi / 48 km into the San Juan Mountains. I needed the trekking pole to set up my tent, so I had to bail off the San Juans and make my own route off the mountain through the snow and blowdowns.

• Coming into Wolf Creek Pass after the South San Juans, the snow travel and high-risk situations really broke me down. By the time I hit Creede, I needed a break and took a month off the trail.

• I had a mental breakdown and panic attack on the knife-edge just before the climb to Grays Peak.

• I lost my pee rag during an extreme whiteout on a ridge in Colorado when the wind was blowing like crazy, almost got hypothermia, and I had a feeling I couldn’t breathe normally.

Wyoming Wretchedness

• I almost got struck by lightning in the Great Basin during a 24-hour challenge, and then I ran out of water in the morning when I could barely walk, having to flag someone down on the highway to get some.

• Multi-day meltdown trying to escape the Cirque of the Towers sleep-deprived, sick with what may have been COVID, cold (snowstorm), out of food, lonely (30+ hours, no people), physically tired, losing the trail, scared for the above reasons.

• My feet were killing me from walking on roads in the Wyoming Basin, and I thought I would have to quit from the pain.

• In the Great Basin, it was just so hot in 100°F/38°C weather, and I thought this would be where I would quit if I were to quit. I experienced heat exhaustion one day in the Basin and needed to return to Rawlins for an extra night, so I switched to night hiking for the entire section.

• Partying in Jackson with no accommodations figured out. Ended up stealth camping in a very rough spot!

• On Knapsack Col, I had COVID and gave myself a concussion by walking into a downed tree. I had to bail to Pinedale and take five days off.

Montana Despair

• Low on calories in a large burn area in southern Montana. The combination of fatigue, constant sun exposure, and unrelenting biting black flies had me questioning life choices.

• I struggled physically and mentally through the Pintler because I was really tired and alone for most of it.

• Leaving Lincoln from Rogers Pass. It was very hot, there was no water on the trail, and an absurd amount of climbing.

Quitting the Trail

• I thought about quitting after Pinedale, Wyoming. I did not want to do the Idaho section because I was tired of ridges, and the towns did not look appealing.

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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