What Being A CDTA Volunteer Means
By: Karl Luce, CDTA Volunteer
The Continental Divide Trail is more than just a trail. It is a connection to wildernesses that Aldo Leopold worked hard to establish. It is a connection to rich histories that might otherwise fade in time. More importantly, it is a connection to people who value the outdoors as much as you do.
Through three recent volunteer activities in New Mexico, I experienced this up-front. El Malpais National Monument provided the backdrop for my first crew experience of the season. There, a CDT section suffered from lack of definition over its route. A small and hardy crew along with BLM rangers scratched out treads from the tenacious grassland. We also became masters at rock-gathering and cairn-building, pinpointing the trail’s location where confusion reigned before. By the end, there was no doubt where the CDT went. My next crew assignment followed a month later in the fabulous Gila Wilderness. The heat was building but that did not faze our dozen-or-so from hauling McLeods, Pulaskis, shovels, rockbars, loppers and saws miles up the trail. This section of trail had it all: blowdowns and brush, eroded footpath adjacent to dry wash, cairns toppled by cattle, sidehill barely clinging on and nasty cholla cactus obstructing the way. With guidance from crew leaders and rangers, we tackled our chores with vigor. I particularly enjoyed the wide variety of tasks, helping me to learn new skills, including my first ever log waterbars. No doubt it is taxing work but the rewards are ample. An immense wave of satisfaction descends as you walk back to the trailhead for the last time and admire your handiwork, lasting for months later.
The crew weeks are not all work. Wisely, the NM crews plan one day of fun in the middle to ward off burnout. At El Malpais, BLM Ranger Jenn took us cross-country to the ruins of a Chacoan outlier with its tower kiva. Multiple potsherds spoke of the past; we left the pieces after admiring them. I almost stepped on a Western rattler; we remarked at its multi-hued vibrancy. Next up was a petroglyph panel. (What was the significance of all those carved ducks?) The final history lesson was a Great-Depression era settler’s cabin. On the second crew, we romped down the Gila River across multiple fords to soak in a natural hot spring.
Volunteer crew work puts one in contact with characters, young and old. One person had thru-hiked the CDT and wanted to give back to the trail. Another regaled us with knowledge of the Malpais badlands. Others kept campfire spirits going with musical entertainment. Interacting with rangers provided CDT history as well as considerations when defining and constructing the trail. By manning the CDTA informational booth at the Silver City Blues Festival, I also reached a sense of community impact. All sorts of folks came up to us to ask about hikes, volunteer opportunities, and commend our hard work, reinforcing our recent crew satisfaction. There is a lot of fun to be had when rubbing your shoulders with CDT people.
The CDT is not just a trail. It is a living being whose lifeblood comes from a great volunteer community. These volunteers continue to draw me back to crew. I urge you to experience the same and join the fun while supporting the King of Trails.