You get a hut and you get a hut and... nope, no hut for you

Colorado has an extensive hut system, and I've been trying to get a reservation since I moved to Colorado three years ago.  They've actually instituted a lottery system where members can put in reservations for hut trips and "winners" are randomly selected.  It's a far cry from the plentiful and welcoming huts in Japan!

Everyone else had helpfully packed down the trail for me, so snowshoes
were not necessary.

While I was in Minnesota, I decided I didn't want to spend the entire last week of winter break sitting at my apartment turning into a crazy cat lady, so I randomly checked for any open spot at huts for that week.  To my surprise, there were a TON of openings.  After researching avalanche danger and trailhead information (I don't have snow tires or chains), I took the last available spot at the Section House, just outside of Breckenridge.

I asked my friend to borrow his snowshoes for the 6.5 mile trek in to the hut, and loaded up my pack with way too much stuff.  I could have done without the snowshoes and I didn't need nearly as much water either, since we had ample snow and a pot to melt it at the hut.  Being used to super light packs as a trail runner, I felt like I was carrying a small person on my back, and was about ready to start dragging it behind me when I got about a mile from the hut.  The wind had gotten insane, and I felt like if I got blown over I might just stay and sleep there for the night instead.

So much space!  But don't get near my single son... oy lady.

Finally, I arrived at the hut and stumbled in to a full cabin of strangers staring at me.  They asked if I was alone, and I said yes.  A helpful lady took me upstairs and showed me where the available beds were.  She gave me a weird lecture about how she didn't want me sleeping in the same room as her single son, so I took the bed as far away as possible from everyone.

I settled in and contemplated taking a hike to one of the smaller peaks in the area.  Everyone but me had brought their skis and skins, and a couple brave souls ventured out to test the surrounding terrain.  After hearing their stories on the radio, I decided I would stay in and enjoy the fire instead. 

My cabin mates were two different families, both of whom came well stocked with a veritable grocery store of food.  Literally, one family had pulled a sled full of food behind them on their trek up.  While they were cooking their real food meals, I munched on my cheese and crackers because I don't drag sleds of food behind me.  Nope.  No way in hell.

Sunset

However, once they pulled out the whisky and wine, I thought perhaps a sled full of alcohol would be a different story. :P  They were kind enough to offer both their drink and food, and I did partake of the whiskey.  Several of us popped outside to catch the sunset, and then whiled away the time with Jenga.

The cabins are amazing, with a wood burning stove, sink, pot to boil water, an actual stove/oven for cooking and dishes, pots and pans.  It costs only $30 a night to stay, and with most campsites costing about that much these days, a great bargain!  The Section House is also the oldest mountain hut in Colorado; making the list of historic places.  On both sides of the pass it has easy access and ample parking, and the hikes up are not particularly strenuous with no avalanche danger.  Though ridiculously windy due to the exposure, that exposure provides lovely views and a sense of spaciousness.  Just looking out the window at the hut is beautiful, and there is a ton of space inside the hut as well--so even if you are staying with a bunch of strangers it's nowhere near the awkwardness of side by side futons or even the close quarters of Barr Camp on Pikes Peak.

The Section House and Boreas Pass

I left early the next day because I had a work training at 3 p.m.  I realized I'd lost my ID somewhere on the hike up, so I took it a little slower trying to peer around and see if I could find it.  I decided to wear my snowshoes, even though I didn't need them, as they were too heavy to carry, and I made much better time on the way down.  When I arrived at the parking lot, a nice guy from the next car over asked if I'd put my ID on my car as a guarantee because I wasn't supposed to park there.  I responded with a confused, what?  He pointed out my ID was tucked under my back windshield wiper.  I literally screamed, jumping up and down with joy.  The guy took it in stride, and asked if I had meant to do that.  I said no, I lost my ID somewhere on the trek up and had no idea how someone knew that was my car and my ID.  He asked about trail and hut conditions, and we had a nice chat until his group was ready to hike up.

Leaving Breckenridge, I was smiling from ear to ear.  My trip was everything I'd hoped it'd be... welcoming people, great views, and the camaraderie of people who enjoy doing the exact same thing I'm doing.  I took the scenic route home, enjoying the views of the surrounding 14ers and other mountains, arriving home in time to do laundry and repack for my trip to Barr Camp for the New Year.

Mountains are the shit. :P