August 16th
The Basin had flattened out. Well, at least the route did. While there would be hills to the side, most of the route for most of the day was along gravel roads. I loved walking along in this area in the morning. There was a sweet spot when I turned off my headlamp, let the first hint of light brighten the sky and listen to the coyotes and cows discuss their plans for the day.
One thing the ranchers /BLM do that is worth praising is preserving water sources. Often there is a concerted effort to protect the scarce springs and to manage their flow. The rancher benefits from a clean predicatble flow. Other travelers benefit from a source without cattle trampling and pooping. I’m sure there are also some desert micro-environments that are saved as well. Unfortunately, at Bull Springs, a solar powered well that is protected by a wood and barbed wire fence, I saw the downside. Apparently a steer just couldn’t resist the green grass and water on the inside of the fenced area and tried to jump the fence. Its hoof got caught in the barbed wire and, after the scavengers of the area had completed their tasks, a skeleton remained to tell the sad story. For me, it was a sad personal victory confirming my suspicion that while the cat may indeed have played the fiddle without opposable thumbs, there is no way the cow jumped over the moon. Hey Diddle Diddle.
Later on, as the trail neared Highway 287, there was again a coice to stay on trail through innocuous scrub land or walk along a raod. By this time, the side of my right shoe was blown open and the duct tape repair I made in South Pass City was coming undone. I elected to walk on the pavement to stop getting crud in my shoe. Once at the highway I walked up the hill and found the marking where I should leave the paved route and rejoin the official trail.
Well, this “trail” was something new altogether. Before I begin a description, it is important to acknowledge a significant portion of the trail is developed and maintained by volunteers. These are amazing people who take time to make the route possible. However, in this one particular section, I think I pieced together what happened. The trail builders were given some signs and tasked to go create the trail. They put 2 or 3 signs into the hard, rocky soil about 1/4 mile apart. They were so proud and happy they went out to happy hour and celebrated. Hard. In fact, they could not remember where they had worked, so the next time they did the same thing a little further along. The net result for hikers are randomly placed trail markers with no connecting trail nor contouring logic. The maps attempt to document a trail, but there is none. Fortunately, as this section nears a reliable water source, there is a solution. The animals all know where the water is, so one must find a game trail and then follow it.
I arrived at the Fish Pond Spring at dusk a little frustrated, thirsty, with shredded shoes. My heart sank when I saw the spring was solar powered and realized it was off until morning. Fortunately, there was a holding tank downhill a bit that still had some water. I attached my dirty water bag to the tip of my hiking pole and was able to lower it into the holding tank.
As I left, I was able to witness an interesting example of animal behavior. I knew from their sounds that wild horses were waiting for me to leave the area. As I left I went up a hill. Once I was about halfway up I turned to see the horses. There was one patch where a pond formed outside the spring’s fence and standing water could be seen reflecting the fading sunlight. Further downhill was a puddle that looked dried out. The strongest looking horses (about 5) were gathered at the obvious water. They stood grouped behind an apparent leader. However, they were not drinking, I assume they had done so as I climbed. However, at the lesser pool were about 5 more horses. I deduced that there must’ve been some sort of caste system. One last observation was that at the lesser pool, the whole group stood with their heads together.
As the sun set and the moon rose, I tried to find a level sheltered spot to camp. It was going to be a clear night, so I only intended to cowboy camp. As I came up to a promising looking clump of shrubs, up popped a buck mule deer’s head. Then, as if on cue, three more popped up in a row, each about a half second after the other. As the last one popped up, the first decidided to bolt and it was quite a sight to see them head off and gracefully clear a barbed wire fence in a single bound.
I took their well chosen spot as it was protected and had a good vantage point, even if the principal feature was the highway below. Wanting to avoid ticks, I chose a spot about 15 feet up from where they had been. I fell asleep to the hum of the traffic below and the beauty of the heavens above.
backpacking over the hill 