Backpacker

The route ahead rolls through meadows ofcolumbine, asters, coneflowers, and dan-delions interspersed with aspen glades. It’sthe stuff of alpine dreams, and it’s merelyday one of the 30-mile Sneffels Traverse insouthern Colorado’s San Juan Mountains.We plan to do it in five days and I’m lookingforward to it—but not all of it. Today’s trailleads to the North Pole Hut, the first of achain of backcountry shelters we’ll sleep inalong the way. And I do not like huts.It’s an unusual position, but I’ve held itfor decades. As a teenager, I fell in love withthe mountains and wanted nothing morethan to work and play in the alpine zone. At16, I joined the “croo” that minds the Appa-lachian Mountain Club huts. Among NewHampshire’s iconic peaks, I cooked for,cleaned up after, occasionally rescued, andled nature walks for the hut visitors. Adher-ing to century-old tradition, several days aweek we packed more than half our bodyweight in groceries up to these mountainchalets. We would lash three or four boxesabove our heads onto tall wooden framesand stagger uphill, joking that the grindingpunishment might hobble us for life. Afterseveral years of this hard labor, the jokestopped being funny.``````What started as a summer gig becamea life sentence. Fair or not, I attribute early-onset osteoarthritis in my knees and hipsto stocking those damn huts. Every time Isee one, it renews the pain. So, for the mostpart, I’ve avoided them. But from time totime on international treks, in places wherehuts are de rigueur, I’ve been forced to takeshelter under a roof. Those nights only con-vinced me that I’d been right. Because inmany corners of the world, it turns out, hutsare overheated, overcrowded, and over-hyped. Who needs a sleepless night sweat-ing next to an over-banked woodstoveamong snoring strangers?But now, with the terrible irony that whathobbled me might also be my salvation, I’vebeen reconsidering. My middle-age body,already compromised, has started creakingin new places. Even lightweight backpack-ing loads seem daunting these days.Something has to give.``````vvvSince I’m not willing to abandon the back-country, I have to give something I’ve hateda second chance.I’ve come to southern Colorado to hikethe Sneffels Traverse and sleep in the SanJuans hut system. The group includes threefriends—equally creaky—and even withhut-lightened loads we spend an inordi-nate amount of time pulling, readjusting,and tightening pack straps as we look forcomfort. We set out in early summer, with aday of casual hiking ahead.``````Cabin ConvertOn Colorado’s SneffelsTraverse, a backpacker learnsto stop hating on huts andembrace the high easy.BY JONATHAN WATERMANBACKPACKER.COM 51Mt. Sneffels rises aboveWilson Creek.continued on page 52