Day 39
5??? Miles?
We got up at about 8 today, had breakfast in the restaurant of the casino, and walked to the other side of Ely to go to the post office. My box with my new shoes had arrived, and Da Bear forwarded his box to Baker. We got a few things at the grocery store, then walked back and checked out of the hotel. We then began the process of trying to hitchhike out of Ely, on interstate 93-not that easy. A state highway patrol cruiser passed us and slowly turned around. We kept walking up the highway trying to look as innocent as possible. Finally a big white pickup pulled over and offered to drive us. We gladly scrambled into the bed of the truck and rode back to Schellburne Pass road. The driver, whose name is Kirsten, graciously drove us way out of her way and then chatted with us for awhile about the old YMCA building she had purchased in McGill and was slowly working on rehabbing. We thanked her and made our way to the series of interpretive signs about the Pony Express, which crosses at Schellburne Pass. We met a Belgian trail runner here, who we chatted with for awhile, about mountains, and living in Europe and America. As we started to walk up the dirt road, we were passed by a young man driving a flatbed truck. We kept walking and he eventually turned around. He talked to us for a little bit and then offered to drive us up to Schellburne Pass on the back of his flatbed truck, which we gladly accepted. We walked for a few more hours. The weather turned and big thunderheads moved in, a few drops fell. We set up our tents near Twin Springs. I went to sleep just after 8 pm.
Day 40
18.7 miles
We got moving just after 8 am. The route followed dirt roads, then I took a drainage up to an old mine, which was a bit more direct. The route gained the crest of the range and followed dirt roads for the rest of the day. There have been some passing thunderstorms, which cleared the air of smoke very nicely, and we were able to see better views than we have in weeks. In the evening we came across a small trailer on a saddle. A shepherd who only spoke Spanish drove up a few minutes later, and he and I talked for a little bit. We went a little further to a stream and camped in a beautiful aspen grove. It’s predicted that there will be more storms tonight.
Day 41
17.6 miles
We got moving a little later this morning, at 9 am-that seems to be our rhythm. Almost immediately I came across a herd of sheep and another shepherd, and I talked with him for a little bit. The trail wound in and out of aspen groves, along the beginning of the Schell mountains. Rain clouds moved in and out and the air was clearer than it had been in a long time. We dropped down onto the road and made our way to Bird Creek camp.
We camped here for the night.
Day 42
11.6 miles
We got a late start today, about 11:15. I am feeling tired-deeply tired, in my big leg muscles. We have been hiking for six weeks today. Da Bear feels great, in the peak of health, in shape- and I feel worn, tired-like stopping hiking feels so good. Da Bear thinks he will be able to help me get stronger this winter, so I don’t burn out so quickly. We took stock of our food. Not great. I had not gotten enough food when we changed our plans and went to Ely early. I stared glumly at my little pile of cereal and granola bars. Da Bear walked away-I thought up to the bathroom-then no more than 5 minutes later he returned with a full grocery bag-“here, I ran to the store for you,” he joked. He had gone to the next camp site over where there was a huge RV, chatted up the elderly couple there, and yogi’d me some food. (Hikers use the verb “yogi” when they ask for food or other things, akin to Yogi Bear.). They had gladly donated me a variety of granola bars, trail mix, and even a couple packets of tuna and sardines. Perfect.
We started slowly up the Ranger Trail. Da Bear took off at his pace. The Ranger Trail , which parallels the High Schells for awhile at 8200 feet, soon gave way to rough, steep trail, going straight up. I sweated and slowly ascended. An hour in, I had only gone 1.5 miles. I sat down and drank some water in the hot sun. I texted Da Bear, “I am not feeling this.” I made the decision to just go around the ridge line of the High Schells-because of the lack of food and water, and because of my aching legs.
Day 43
12 miles
I got moving at 8 am today, packing up my little subtle camp near Berry Creek. I started walking down Success Summit road. The road soon went from pavement to dirt. A lone pickup truck approached slowly, then pulled over-a retired couple and their adorable border collie-“we have room for you, if you don’t mind the dog…”. I gladly accepted the ride on this long road walk to Cave Lake. I quickly swung my backpack into the pickup truck and hopped in the back seat of the cab. Their names were Patrick and Lisa, and they were both retired geologists, living outside Reno now, and they delighted me for 25 minutes with geologic information about the surrounding mountains.
We reached Success Summit, the highest point on the road, and I hopped out to grab my phone so I could show Patrick a picture of the geode I had found in the Diamond range. I felt my hip belt pocket on my backpack, where my phone lives. Empty.
Shit.
I frantically dug around in the truck bed, hoping it had fallen out. Nothing. Lisa was walking back towards the truck. “My phone fell out of my hip belt”, I said. “It must have happened when I swung my pack into the truck.”
I had been so excited to get a ride, all the way to Cave Lake, that I had stupidly left my phone unsecured and it flew out, into the road. I was sure of it. A million feelings of regret flooded me, along with the awkwardness of this happening on a hitch, with this nice couple that was already doing me a huge favor.
“It’s ok, we have time. We’ll go back and find it”, said Patrick.
We all piled back into the truck, silently, and headed back the way we had come. I tried to keep my mind from spinning-all of my navigation is on my phone. I would have to try to hitch back to Ely and figure out how to get a replacement phone from there. No, don’t think about that now. Twenty five minutes later, all three of us scanning the road, Patrick said, “there it is. I just went over it.” We all hopped out and ran over-there was my phone, totally intact, innocently lying in the middle of the road. I couldn’t believe it. Relief flooded me. We all got back into the truck and turned around again, heading south. We finally reached Cave Lake at 11am. I thanked them both profusely and they went on their way. The kindness and graciousness of strangers continues to humble and soften me on these trips, as I am forced to take myself less seriously.
I continued to walk down the road, stopping a little later under a shady tree to eat my lunch, which was mostly what the kind people had given me at Bird Creek. I continued on as the road became dirt, listening to music. I jumped when I realized there were two four wheelers behind me, crawling along at my pace-I apologized and they laughed and asked what I was doing. We chatted for a few minutes. I made my way up to the high point and was passed by yet another four wheeler, a couple. I came upon a small pond where the map had noted a spring. Good luck. A moment later the man came driving the four wheeler down the other way, without his wife. He parked and came walking up to where I was getting water.
“Hey. Don’t mean to scare you or anythin’. We’re just setting up to do some hunting.”
“That’s okay. What did you do with your wife?”
“She’s over there-“ he indicated the brush above the pond-“I’m not followin’ you or anything. Don’t worry. I know how it is-“
“I’m not worried. Your wife was here like thirty seconds ago, I didn’t figure you could have taken her out that quickly.”
His wife laughed from the bushes. She was a new bow hunter, and they had gotten a tag for a bull elk, which they were excited about. Apparently only about thirty tags for bull elk are released per season. An adult bull elk weighs anywhere from 600 to 900 pounds. I wished them luck and continued on my way, down Cooper Canyon. Huge awesome rock formations and caves yawned on every side. I finally made camp under some pine trees, and made a small cooking fire-I ran out of fuel today. The sun set and the moon rose, half full, white behind a few dark clouds-the smoke is gone. What a blessing.
Day 44
7.5 miles
I got moving at about 8:15 today. I had made a little breakfast fire so that I could heat up my tea. I made my way the rest of the way down Cooper Canyon, listening to Ekhart Tolle’s “The Power of Now”, which I am greatly enjoying-it’s required reading for the yoga training I’ll be doing for the month of October. I arrived at the highway, and tried unsuccessfully to hitch for about 45 minutes-it’s difficult to get a ride on the Interstate, any way you shake it. I carefully wrote “HIKER to BAKER” in thick black sharpie on my foam pad and was picked up immediately by a lovely couple from Maryland. They drove me all the way to Baker, chatting the whole time. I checked into the Stargazer Motel. This town is no more than population 400, and has not 1, but two hipster restaurants. Bizarre. There is one Nevada Highway intersecting with another highway at one end of town, heading towards Great Basin National Park. This creates an influx of people and I would assume, money-in this lonely corner of the world-what a funny microcosm. I chatted with Ambrie who works at the mini-mart-she was professional and formal at first but soon burst into a torrent of local gossip at my apparent interest-the Brooklyn couple who had opened one of the restaurants and the motel were already planning to sell, probably to the retiring superintendent of the national park- “who plans to open a General Store, because we need one, but doesn’t want to run a restaurant.” Bye bye, hipsters.
I put my laundry in at the RV park and went to dinner at the other restaurant in town, settling in on the patio seating. A middle-aged woman with long brown hair pulled up next to the restaurant in a pickup truck. “Hi. Do you want a tomato?” She held out a one-gallon bucket full of yellow cherry tomatoes. I took one and thanked her. She walked quickly into the restaurant and then returned-now the bucket was full of coffee grounds. “These are for my garden,” she said. She stood and chatted with me for ten minutes, about the town, and who owns what building. I will never, ever get over how friendly people are in these Nevada towns.
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