1980: The Boundary Trail, page 10

On the Bunker Hill 'trail.'

Day 4, Thursday
8 PM, Hidden Lakes Shelter

Here’s one exhausted McArthur and a totally pooped pup (Micki) at the Hidden Lakes Shelter.  Today we did twenty of the most awful miles imaginable! I am trying to think of something suitably snarly to say, but I am truly at a loss for words. There are some trails you like so much that you will go back and hike them again and again. I will never, repeat NEVER do those 20-miles again!

To get from the Ashnola River to here, you cross some mountains. Hey – no big deal! That's what I came up here for, right? Yeah, but some trails contour around mountains, this one goes up to the top, down to the bottom, up to the top, down to the bottom, up to the top… Well, you get the idea.

And of course, after we reached the bloody top I managed to somehow take the wrong 'trail' down. About a half-mile into the descent I realized we were on the wrong trail, but the map said it would come out pretty close to where we wanted to be, so I decided not to worry about it. Besides, there was no freaking way I was going to climb back up to the summit just to go back down on another equally miserable trail.

Looking west from route up Bunker Hill.

Whoever built this trail hates hikers. I couldn't even enjoy the mediocre views at the time because stopping just meant having to start up again.

Right now I am totally drained. There comes a point where you’re tired, and another where you are exhausted. I am beyond that.  “Fatigued” doesn’t even begin to describe how I now feel.

We may stay here tomorrow or hike the five miles to the Pasaytan River and stay there. It all depends upon the weather. It hasn't rained yet, but it's been threatening to do so all day. The clouds hit the crest and then roll up and over to our side.

A young man, Doug, and his dog Jodi stayed with us at the Ashnola River shelter last night. It worked out fine; they were good neighbors, and I think Micki enjoyed having another dog around.

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