Continental Divide Trail Horror Stories (2023 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 get 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 becoming quickly 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 173 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
- Weather, weather, weather. There were scary moments on steep traverses and glissades under sketchy cornices and some high river crossings in Colorado. But the biggest constant was storms. On our first night in the San Juans, a storm blew in and dumped 3 in / 10 cm of fresh snow on the ground. My tent got buried. The next day, every step was a posthole through the fresh powder and the unfrozen snowpack beneath it. I couldn’t feel my feet. We were going at less than 1 mph / 1.6 km/h. We were forced to bail off / bushwhack down the high mountains with more storms in the forecast. There also always seemed to be lightning and hailstorms while hiking on exposed ridgelines or in the flat expanse of the Basin, where I felt like a human lightning rod. I saw lightning strike the ground no more than 300 ft / 100 m from where I stood. I’ve rarely felt so vulnerable and powerless as when crouching in the sagebrush while lightning and thunder occurred simultaneously above my head.
- Low temperatures and rain always make me feel unsafe, as I can and have lost feeling in my hands to the point where I can no longer operate my phone, even undo the clips on my pack, or open any food packaging. I was always worried this would happen again.
- Getting hit by lightning near Monarch Pass. When the lighting hit, I felt a jolt of electricity in my chest/body, and I was waiting to drop dead any second.
- There were several days in Colorado where I felt more vulnerable than ever when hiking. I knew I’d have to camp on exposed ridgelines, and I could only hope that conditions would be favorable. Mid-September weather in the San Juans can be fickle, and I experienced a particularly bad, near-hypothermic day. I’d have been in trouble if it had been slightly colder, wetter, or windier.
- Almost getting electrocuted/crushed under falling trees in a thunderstorm at Thunderbolt Mountain.
- Camping on an exposed ridge at 13,000 ft in Colorado during a thunderstorm with marble-sized hail.
- During lightning storms. They crept up on us multiple times in Colorado on Ridges and the Basin. You may see them coming an hour or so ahead, but it doesn´t help you as a safe spot is hours (or days) away from you. It’s an unavoidable part of the trail, and as far as I know, the weather this year was just a bit worse than average.
- When everything started to buzz on top of San Luis Mountain, we ran down as quickly as we could.
- I got caught in an unexpected thunderstorm in the morning on a ridge above treeline; lightning strikes hit 150 ft / 50 m in front of and behind us as we were running downhill.
The Horror of Terrain
- We crossed a river (Texas Creek), which almost swept my girlfriend away. We were exhausted, mosquitos everywhere, and the planned campsite was just a mile or two after the crossing. We only realized how dangerous (and stupid) the crossing was afterward, but that was a warning always to keep a clear head when making decisions.
- The traverse from Greys Peak to Edwards Peak was scary due to the scree/terrain with long drops around you.
- Nearly getting hit by a collapsing tree on a windy day in a burned area before Darby and realizing afterward that there would have been no time to react fast enough.
- One big river crossing before entering Platoro, CO, and crossing Texas Creek in the Collegiates. The snow melt was causing the currents to run fast and high, and I saw people get swept away. I overcame my fear and crossed, which was the trail’s highlight. But I also felt less safe than ever before or since.
- Sketchy, super exposed, high slope angle traverses in the South San Juans while already suffering from altitude sickness.
- The Silverthorne Cutoff trail was sketchy – narrow, out-slopping, loose rock, and exposed several times.
The Horror of Snow
- Traversing across snowy faces and ridges, getting to Wolf Creek was intense. I foolishly did not have an ice axe and felt like I would slip and fall down the face below almost every day for 5 days. I also ran out of food that stretch.
- A winter snowstorm hit as I ascended to the Cirque of the Towers, complete with lightning & thunder. I had to bail.
- In Colorado, when I was on a snowy cornice. I was stuck and could not walk in any way. I had to jump and cross my fingers not to fall.
- Crossing steep snow-filled gullies in Colorado.
The Horror of Hitchhiking
- I felt unsafe hitching on an open-bed truck and learning that the drivers were probably on something. They were very nice people – I felt like I might fall off the back of the truck.
- I was in a hitch by myself – as a single woman. The guy who gave me a ride was strange and did not talk much. I was worried.
- Hitching from Chama, New Mexico, I received a ride from a guy on meth.
The Horror of Humans
- I got shot at (not directly, but close) by drunk locals in New Mexico.
- I was camped next to a dirt road outside Steamboat Springs, Colorado. Around five in the morning, a pickup truck drove by, turned around, and then just idled about 600 ft / 200 m away from me for no apparent reason. I was solo at the time and missing my bear spray. They didn’t drive off until after I was entirely packed up. Very creepy.
- I always felt nervous that the locals would turn against me when they learned I was from California.
- I had several odd encounters with hunters, but that’s too much to get into.
The Horror of Town
- Many of the towns in New Mexico were very sketchy, and it didn’t feel safe to walk around in many of them.
- Encountered a man shooting an assault rifle on the road outside of Grants, New Mexico.
- I was verbally assaulted and threatened by a man while trying to hitch out of Helena, Montana (I did nothing to provoke him).
- An RV was in the wrong lane on the road walk into Pie Town, New Mexico. It came up behind me and missed me by a foot before swerving back into the correct lane.
- On the road walk into Cuba, New Mexico, I was charged by 8 dogs from four different households. The dogs in Cuba were much scarier than the grizzly with cubs that bluff-charged me in Yellowstone. At least the grizzly backed down quickly. The dogs were aggressively growling and persistent.
The Horror of Animals
- A trail runner got killed by a grizzly bear, and a forest worker got attacked by another within a couple of days of getting to each location where the attacks occurred.
- I was camped next to a dirt road and had a problem bear trying to get my food just north of Darby. Thankfully, I hung my food properly in a tree. I had to scare the bear off several times through the night. Some careless people must have dumped trash on the road, and bears learned to go there for snacks. I’ve always been wary of bears but was pretty spooked after that encounter, especially since a bear fatality caused trail closure was coming up on my journey.
- We were bluff-charged by a grizzly in Glacier National Park on a popular day hike trail, and it got within 50 ft / 15 m.
- In Beaverhead, Montana, there was a mom grizzly bear who would not move off the trail. As we went around, we only saw the baby and no longer saw the mom; in Glacier National Park before Stoney Indian Pass, we saw a wet grizzly paw print on the rock beneath our feet as we walked in the morning darkness.
- I was camping alone, and something roamed around my tent all night, breaking sticks and breathing loudly.
- A mountain lion stalked me, but the circumstances allowed me to notice it was there (loose talus and a clumsy cat). I yelled at it when it was within 100 ft / 39 m, and it retreated, and within the hour, my trail family caught up.
- All of Colorado. Night hiking was scary (the dark is scary). A moose got onto the trail 15 ft / 5 m in front of me, and I thought I would become a statistic.
- At the end of the trail, when there were so many bear tracks and fresh poop – I was hiking on my own.
- Had a cougar step out on the trail in front of me less than 50 ft / 15 m away.
- Charged by a cow moose with a calf.
- Running into a mountain lion in the Gila while night hiking alone, and having to hike out of the canyon and as far as I could stand before setting up camp for the night. Also, I got growled at by a black bear for getting too close to the cubs I didn’t see once.
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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Thru hiked nobo 2023 thru hikers are so soft lolol
This sentence almost makes sense.