We left early and got a ride to where we started the slackpack just after a Monastery up the hill north of town. Hikers were slowly trickling out of the trailer. Acorn, Dion, and I left around 7:30am, and it was cold and raining today by the time we hit the trail. We walked on a weird sloped ATV trail for the first 10 miles. Slipped and fell on some marbled pebbles heading down hill at one point.
After not realizing I took a wrong turn, stopped and took moment to chat with two monks from that Monastery we passed, their names were Brother Lawrence & Phillip. They made it seem like they head to the monastery to study and never leave. They asked if I was hiking the CDT, and I said yes. I think they didn't realize that I had walked nearly 2 miles off trail in he wrong direction. Lawrence asked if I saw the rest of the monks, 20 of them, that were ahead of them on this sour trail. "Didn't see anyone.", I said. "Yeah us monks are illusive." Phillip said. After I was given a card their monastery, they told me I should visit. I had a feeling that road I was on was lead there. We walked off in opposite directions after that. It didn't take me long after that encounter until I realized I should turn around. I never saw them again or any other of the monks they mentioned before getting back to the trail.
Just after the first water source, overlooking a canyon, there was Shepa and a guy chatting. He did not look like a hiker. Sherpa got around to mentioning to this guy the "Gila (pronounced helah) Hermit". After a brief pause the main said, "Well I'm the Gila Hermit!", "I've been living behind those trees over there for 18 years." he said. His name was Doug. Doug gave us a tour of his retreat. He was apparently taking his one trip he makes every year in a week to fully resupply his food and any other goods for maintenance required for hermiting out in the hills of Silver City. No phone no TV, no radio, just lots of books and Tupperware full of beans and rice. The guy was talkative, might be a side effect of spending so much time alone. He walked us back to the trail to what he called his porch, which was some orange sandy rock that overlooked the valley. You could here a small waterfall off in he distance crashing.
I camped with three others just before the Gila, at Sapillo creek for the night readying ourselves for the many crossings of this river. Long awaited after having such a hot/dry first trail section in the New Mexican boot heel.
