Hatchet Mountains

October 29th

The hunters and I were out and about around the same time. One group was in a truck and another group was on ATVs. I don’t hunt, but I would imagine the sound and dust from a vehicle approaching on a gravel road must spook game for at least an hour. On the trail, I don’t have to worry about that.

At daybreak, I did have to worry about finding the white signs. The morning section of trail went east. Finding a white sign was impossible for a brief period because I was having to look directly at the sun. However, by this point in the journey, you just head to where you think the sign ought to be and just keep your eyes open. It works for the white signs.

That moment just before the rays hit you directly.

The sun looked cool shining through the eastern clouds

At one point the trail walks along a sandy stream bed. All of the large black beetles I have been seeing are suddenly flying. It must be part of a mating ritual / getting ready for winter. Whatever the cause, it is a little creepy to walk into the areas where they congregate and take flight. They are loud, clumsy fliers and they do mass together a bit. I had not seen this behavior before (and I would not see it the rest of the trail).

The rest of this day’s hike went south along the eastern side of the Little Hatchet Mountains. There was some mining activity. In fact, one spot had an open old shaft and nearby signs of recent digging. Due to cave ins near the opening, I was too chicken to peer over the edge. I did drop a rock down and it took a second or two to hit bottom.

This old shaft went straight down. I wanted to look down, but the rotten wood and signs of mini cave-ins brought out the chicken in me.

Later, I came across a rusted old pan and then a CDT icon: the bike. There is a ten speed bike that has been on the trail for awhile. Some parts are rusted, the tires have no air but they look relatively new. Some hikers ride it for a bit and I imagine it is evver so slowly moving northbound. Perhaps one class of north bounders will deliberately start moving the bike to the border with Canada.

I’m not sure of the reason why somebody brought this into the middle of the desert, but it obviously didn’t pan out.

I stocked up at a cattle pond. A large metal tank was being supplied by a well. From the top of the tank, a hose was draining the excess into the cattle pond. I grabbed the hose and retrieved a couple liters of water. I knew I would hit a stocked water cache in the morning, so I didn’t need too much.

I ended up camping about 300 yards from the trail near an arroyo. I had a great view of the Big Hatchet Mountains. They would be my last mountains on the trail and I would pass beside and through them tomorrow. Also, there was a road off to the east where a rare car would speed along. I built my drug-smuggler “I’m here” fire and enjoyed an unhurried dinner.