Nobody in Sight

October 28th

For the past week, temperatures in the boot heel have been about 10 degrees Fahrenheit above normal.  It is close to warm when I start hiking each morning.  During the afternoon it gets a bit toasty.  I can imagine average weather must be perfect for hiking.

The sunrise was pretty nice.  Most of the day would be spent walking to a white sign. pausing to find the next, and walking there.  There is little visible wildlife in the daylight.  I have sometimes heard and seen cranes.  Once they were resting on the ground somewhere.  However, a couple other times I have seen them circling higher and making their croaking sound to each other.  They sound like sand hill cranes, but this seems too far south and west.

I also saw a few horned lizards and jack rabbits.  I was finally able to get pictures of both.  Desert animals have to be quick and they are hard to photograph.

 

Fortunately, I came across my first stocked water cache around 8:00 in the morning.  The water was still a bit cool from the night.   Although there were stocked water caches, I still always looked at potential water sources.  Most were empty, some had stagnant water, while a few were drinkable.  With the exception of pumping wells, the water is usually warm.  Adding Gatorade or propel or other flavors to warm water still just results in warm flavored water.

I didn’t see anybody this day.  I was following a few set of hiker’s footprints, but there seemed to be very little activity.  Later in the day I entered some small hills called the Coyote Hills.  There seemed to be some fresh signs of cattle.  Nearing a water tank at the top of a hill, I found a small herd.  They were pretty smart because this water tank was overflowing, creating a small desert stream that ran for about 50 feet before drying up.   They all huddled together and watched me as I rinsed off some of the desert dust and cooled off.

I spotted a hunter’s game camera near the tank.  Maybe the hunter had figured out how to keep the pump open creating the mini stream and attracting animals.  Anyhow, I tried to trigger it with goofy pictures of me, but couldn’t get it to fire.

 

Walking down a rough dirt road, I came across the hunter’s camp.    Nobody was home.   I admired all the “luxuries” while I walked past:  a propane grill, huge cooler, clear plastic storage bins for organizing different items.  In just a few days, I would be returning to the world where luxuries abounded.

 

I pushed on for a couple more miles, passing an earthen tank that must’ve existed for years since the surrounding vegetation was lush for the desert.  I didn’t want to camp near that place since it attracted animals and hunters.  Fortunately, the trail soon split off the road, so I followed the white signs and found a spot not too far from the trail.

The head and tail lights of trucks were vaguely discernible on the horizon.  Like last night, I made a small fire.  Somehow,  I feel better with a fire as a signal to others out in the desert that I am here.  The creosote bush  and occasional mesquite are not the best sources of firewood, but they put off a nice smoke.

^        ^        ^       ^     ^

As the trip winds down, I have been getting reflective.  On this day I came up with a list of things I have lost or will leave behind.

• Sunglasses:  I usually don’t wear them, but every time I go on a backpacking trip I buy a pair.  Every trip I lose them within a week.  Somewhere in Glacier National Park is a nice pair of polarized sunglasses.
• A grey Ibex hoodie. Lost near Lewis and Clark Pass in Montana.  If you found tis, and want to return it, let me know.  If you want to keep it, rest assured that my leprosy has been responding well to treatments and yours will likely be manageable.
• A desire to see bears in the wild.
• A Point Six wool sock.  Wyoming has the distinct honor of holding a sock that went several miles.  You’ll know its mine when you smell it before you see it.  Despite attempts at washing, most of my socks would develop a unique odor with balanced hints of sweat, cow dung, and road kill.   This loss confirmed that missing socks is not a phenomena limited to sock drawers.
• A fear of asking strangers for help.  Whether it was Janie in Montana, a driver in Colorado, or the Thomases in New Mexico,  I learned that asking for help when I really needed it is okay.  In spite of what we see on the news, most Americans have a reflex to help a person in need.  Conversely, if you genuinely need help, asking for it is not shameful.
• A lot of fat, a little muscle.  When I started, I was a lot bigger.  Now I look like a thin, vagrant Santa.   I had worked out daily prior to this trip, so being lean now means I have lost fat and muscle.  While it might be reasonable to assume that long distance backpackers might end up looking like a kangaroo or T-rex with scrawny arms and strong legs, my observation is that they just get lean all over.