On my way out of Pie Town, I stopped at toaster house, a CDT hiker hostel that doesn’t have any host. When entering at the gate, there were a bunch of old toasters hanging and I thought that was interesting. Apparently, this house was created to commemorate David, an avid outdoor adventurer who passed away. I didn’t feel called to stay there so I continued road walking north. 

I had 6 more miles to go to the TLC ranch, another ranch that provides water, and a campsite for CDT hikers. A white truck passed by and Zeke, a man from Colorado, offered me a ride. I was done with road walking and eager to get to the trailhead. We passed several thru-hikers and made it to the TLC ranch. I couldn’t quite figure out how that place worked. Knowing that all these hikers would be there for the night and it would be very social, I started to feel anxious and wanted to keep going. Zeke was still there and walking Itty Bitty, his little dog, so I asked him if I could continue riding with him. He dropped me off at the CDT trailhead at El Malpais National Conservation Area and Chain of Craters. I was so happy and relieved to see a trail after all this road walking!!

As I set foot on the trail, I was happy and guilty for skipping a day’s worth of road walking at the same time. I thought about where the guilt came from. I thought about it for the entire evening hike and even after I settled into an awesome camp surrounded by the lava and protected from the wind under an old juniper tree. I recognized that my guilt and fear of judgment by other hikers came from a way of thinking such as “only one right way,” “quantity over quality,” “either or,” “individualism,” “perfectionism,” and “attachment to objectivity.” These are some of the characteristics of white supremacy culture, a historic and ongoing cultural norm to keep systemic oppression in place. 

I had to remind myself that this was my journey. I would make one that serves me and brings me joy and connection. I need to be careful to avoid falling into what we or others think is “right.” I hope that all CDT hikers have an experience that it is for them and whatever serves them to meet their purpose.

For the next three days, I saw only one thru-hiker. He was surprised to see me. He said, “Not many people come this way because it is longer.” Not only that but also water is scarce on the official CDT. I went to a cow tank to get water. As I got closer, I saw many cows surrounding the large water tank. I told myself that cows have become my best friends – we share pretty much everything from water to trails to places to sleep. I said out loud, “I’m okay!” not for the cows to hear me but more for me as a sign of assurance. When I peeked in the tank, the water was brown and green. I stood there surrounded by cows, debating whether I would drink this water or not. Then, I saw a cow across from me start to drink water and their saliva dripping into the tank. I lost my appetite completely! I just grabbed a liter in case I became desperate until I reached the next water source which was 8 miles ahead. 

I did fine. The next water source had clear trickling water from an old pipe. I took 7 liters. The pack was heavy, but I was happy to just have water security for the next couple of days.

As I continued my hike through El Malpais National Monument, I noticed that all names of peaks and places were named in Spanish. It probably means that Spanish settlers came here, erased the original names of these places, and renamed them with their language. Names can tell you who the colonizers are. Therefore, naming could be an exercise of power and privilege. 

I’ve been thinking a lot about names. Ever since I hiked the PCT, when people ask me “What is your name?” I state my original name Miho. When it’s their turn, most of them tell me the names that they use on the trail, not their original names. Amongst thru-hikers, it’s known as trail names. I have many thoughts about trail names and haven’t gotten to the point yet to articulate why I have such big feelings about them.

I feel connected to my original name. My name means that a protector of the people, culture, and environment that my parents wished for me to become. I am the same person whether I’m thru-hiking or doing something else. Most importantly, stating my original name is an exercise of decolonization. Adapting the trail name to me is to accept a colonial mindset. If I rename myself and let others call me by that name, I would cut my roots from my ancestors, my culture, what’s given to me, and the meaning behind it. So why would I choose to erase my original name?

I’m writing about names from a place of curiosity and inquiry because I have so many questions. I’m writing as food for thought. If you resonate with what I’m saying, why? If you dissonate with what you hear from me, why? Pay attention to what comes up for you because it’s teaching you something about yourself and your values.

As I thought about names and continued to see Spanish names, I hiked cross–country across a lava field to get to a trail that led to Bandera Volcano caldera and an ice cave. The lava field was hard on feet and shoes. The rocks were hot and sharp. I was moving with caution since it’s easy to cut myself or tear shoes with sharp rocks. My shoes had lots of wear and tear after crossing the Gila River and walking on the lava field. I was glad that I included a new pair of hiking shoes in the next resupply box.

After exploring the ice cave and the caldera, I walked an additional few miles on a state highway and I got a ride from Elver for the last mile. He dropped me off at the visitor center where the official CDT trail continued. I was relieved. Seeing the fences along the highway was a sign that I wouldn’t be welcome on the land. Being back on the national monument, I belong here. When I came into the open field, I saw a herd of elk for the first time on this trip. They were also free to roam here as much as I was free to walk there. I was glad that we could all share this place.

The next day, I took time to explore El Malpaís National Monument. In addition to hiking the CDT, which wasn’t quite a trail since it was all just challenging lava field navigation over sharp rocks, I took a side trip on the El Calderon trail to explore Bat Cave and other numerous caves.

At a junction of CDT and Zuni–Acoma trail, I decided to take the Zuni–Acoma Trail and Bonita Canyon backroad to avoid as much road walking as possible. CDT is extreme. One moment you’re out of nowhere and off-trail hiking on the trail, and in another moment you’re walking on a state highway since the trail is not complete. 

Zuni-Acoma Trail was the most beautiful off-the-pavement road walking I had on this trip. It followed the Bonita Canyon which had red rocks and reminded me of the Gila River Canyon. I felt an invitation to hike through the canyon. Every turn I took, I was excited to see what was coming next around the bend. I was able to walk on a social trail by animals and as I got closer to Grants, I met Don, a local hiker and the executive director of the history museum in Grants, who taught me to follow the Zuni Old Railway Trail into town.

Don mentioned that he lives in one of two first homes coming into town and told me to stop by if I need water. I only had a half liter left so I said I would stop by. When I showed up, he was about to have breakfast and invited me to join him. “If you need a place to stay, you’re welcome to stay here. I take care of my older brother and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

I had a wonderful rest of the day. I met his older brother who was also a sweet man. I tended to my needs, cooked dinner with them, and exchanged stories. As we were winding down in the evening, I asked Don if he knew what trail angel was. “Yes, I know,” said Don. I told him that he was a super trail angel.

Outside in his backyard, I felt the warm energy from the canyon. Listening to the birds, feeling the cool wind on my face, and meeting Don, all these things are the signs that I meant to exist on this earth, in relationship with all beings.

*I am using the official CDT trail mileage. This section between Pie Town to Grants includes the Bonita-Zuni alternate route which is a few miles shorter than the official CDT and avoids a significant amount of highway walking. The actual walking distance or mileage is slightly different.

Appreciation: Zeke and Itty Bitty (dog) for giving me a ride to the CDT trailhead, the owner of the ice cave shop for giving me water after business hours, Elver for the ride, and Don and his brother for hosting me in Grants for a night 

Best learning: define your journey yourself and let others define theirs themselves 

Challenges: road walking out of Pie Town, walking on sharp lava rocks, water scarcity

Disappointment: seeing so much trash in Bonita Canyon was disappointing

Exciting moments: finding a beautiful collared lizard “Daddy,” walking on a trail and experiencing solitude, climbing Cerro Lobo, and seeing the view of the monument