Day 26
0 miles
We got up this morning and rented a Jeep to put in 3 more water caches in the desert section after Wells. The spring source being dry in the Rubies made us look at the water situation going forwards a little more carefully-and we noted that there were a few similar sources that, if they weren’t running, would put us in trouble. We camped at one of the caches in Goshute Valley for the night.
Day 27
7.2 miles
We got up at the car camp and drove the Jeep back to Elko, dropping it off at the airport. At 11:30 our shuttle driver, Violet, arrived and drove us back to the trailhead. We ran into the Forest Service supervisor at the trailhead who we had met on our way down to town. She gave us some more information about the trail going forwards. We hiked for a few miles on good trail and camped in a field overlooking Elko with its twinkling lights below.
Day 28
12.4 miles
Today started as an absurd frustrating day, and it was no one’s fault but mine. I got moving around 8:30-Da Bear often leaves after me and catches up-and I started to angle up towards where I thought the trail was. I had it in my mind that the trail was going to be rough and overgrown. I picked up bits and pieces of cattle trail on the steep side-hill traverse. The going was slow and frustrating and I was pouring sweat, really working hard, looking for faint trail. I picked my way back towards the back of the canyon where Talbot Creek originates, then realized that the trail makes a big U shape back to the canyon and up the other side. I thought, “this is ridiculous. This is basically cross-country, the trail is so bad-I might as well just drop down, cross the creek, and bushwhack back to where it picks up as Jeep track.” I picked my way down through sage, briers, high grasses, carefully climbed over a barbed wire fence, crossed the creek, and picked my way up the other side. It took an hour to go less than a mile. I grabbed the Jeep road for less than a mile then went cross country towards another creek. I found what I thought was the trail down to the creek, hollered, and Scott called back-he was waiting at the creek for me. My trail disintegrated into thick forest and I fought my way through, covered in twigs and dirt and sweat, swearing. I finally emerged on the opposite bank, saw Scott, shoved myself through The Darkness-sized stinging nettle, and collapsed on the creek bank.
“Wow, that was ridiculous! I can’t believe he’s gonna try and actually get other people to hike this thing.”
Scott blinked at me. “There was manicured trail all the way from our camp until that Jeep road. What were you on? Also, I think you missed the trail down to here. It was huge and clear.” He paused. “Also, I don’t know why you just went though that stinging nettle-I crossed ten feet to the left. It’s totally clear.”
I stared at him, dumbfounded, my skin started to tingle where the nettle had touched it. “What? I bushwhacked that whole section!”
“Nope, I think they recently cleared the track. It was really easy. I wondered why you went up the ridge out of camp instead of back to the trail.”
I couldn’t believe I had wasted so much time and energy needlessly on what is not even the hard part of this section, which is supposedly the hardest section of the entire route. He helped me laugh it off-this is all by choice, anyway-and we continued on. I bathed in Thorpe Creek, and we continued on up to Cold Creek. We walked up the creek bed-there is plentiful water here, which is a relief-and we camped below the final climb to Soldier Lakes. There was a large bull in the camp we wanted to use-we tried to get him to move, but he just stood staring at us, so we gave up and set up our tents. Scott went and looked at the bull-his leg was hurt, so he wasn’t moving too much. We made a fire in the fire pit, which was surrounded by sunflower plants-the fire looked strange and out of place surrounded by sunflowers in the dark. The stars came out-the smoke is lessened enough that we can see the stars again-and I went to sleep at 9:30, after Scott gently woke me up-I had been snoring in his lap next to the fire. I slept, motionless, deep and dreamless, for nine hours.
Day 29
12.3 miles
We got up and started hiking at about 8. The bull had moved 50 feet or so down the creek to try and graze, but he hadn’t gone far. Da Bear talked calmly to it and got within about four feet, but didn’t see anything he could do to help it.
We made our way up the very steep slope towards the Soldier Lakes Plateau, sometimes finding bits of game trail, mostly just going straight up. I compensated for my lack of navigation judgment yesterday by walking right behind Da Bear all morning and complaining loudly about his navigation decisions, which he accepted in good course. At one point I was complaining about how long it was taking and he said soothingly, “don’t worry, we’re doing great, we’ll get there.”
Something dawned on me. “Wait a minute. That’s the same voice you were using to talk to that injured bull.”
He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and smiled. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice that.” He paused. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve been talking to cows way longer in that voice than I have to women.”
We dropped down to Soldier Lake and had lunch on its sandy beach. Somehow we have managed to eat over half of a 10.5 ounce bottle of honey mustard since Elko (2 days ago). We gained the cross country ridge above Soldier Lake and followed it for 6 or 7 miles, slow moving, but beautiful scenery all around, the East Humboldts looming vaguely in the smoke on all sides. We dropped down through thick sage to Gardiner Creek and camped in a thicket of aspens. I went to sleep almost instantly, as soon as I laid down.
Day 30
18ish miles
I got moving pretty late-I slept a long time, for some reason. Da Bear left a little before me on his way up to do the rest of the East Humboldts. I’m going to walk the roads around this section, and then come back in to rejoin the route at Grays Lake. I am exhausted, and we have limited food left, because we have been moving so slowly. So, Da Bear will do the next 36 miles over 2 days, and I will join him at Angel Lake.
The smoke kept things pretty cool until about noon, and then it went back to feeling like the desert. I walked with my silver umbrella up, which helps a lot. An NDOT truck pulled over-“did you need a ride?” I thanked him and declined-I was tickled to think of how many government or official vehicles have offered us a hitch in Nevada, which is almost certainly not technically allowed. I kept walking and turned on dirt roads into Starr Valley-the wife of the rancher who owns all the land along this road pulled over and talked with me for awhile, then turned around and came back a little later and offered me a ride the rest of the way to my trailhead. She stopped at their house on the way and picked up her husband, the rancher. In the car I told them the story of the injured bull up Cold Creek.
“Did you see the brand? He’s actually the cattle auditor for this area,” she said.
“Uh, no…..I didn’t know I was going to run into you”, I said jokingly.
They dropped me off and gave me a Gatorade and a Red Bull they had in their car. I cannot believe how universally nice people are in this state. I walked up the faint 2 track to Grey Creek, then made my way up to the Forest Service boundary. I made camp under some aspen trees next to the creek. The sun sank, red in the smoke, behind the trees. It’s lonely to camp without Da Bear.
Day 31
9.2 miles
I got moving around 8:30 and found the end of the 2 track and its transition to trail. The Greys Creek trail continued to be easy to walk on for about a mile, then the track turned into an aspen forest and became less defined. I could tell, though, that this trail had been used to access Greys Lake-there were cut logs, albeit many years ago, and also Basque carvings on the trees. Basque shepherds had used this trail in years past. I arrived at Greys Lake, a beautiful alpine lake in a rock cirque. The trail continued to be well-defined all the way to Angel Lake.
The leaves are turning. Aspens, green all summer, now gilded with gold, their golden coins fluttering down on me as I hike below-whispering to each other as always, whispering ancient things-or gossip, as the case may be. Autumn is coming. We have one month more to hike.
I camped at Angel Lake, a Forest Service campground-the comforting sounds of other campers lulling me to sleep. I’ll walk down into Wells tomorrow, our midway point.
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