Page 21: Meadow Creek to Jack Creek

Pretty view from wet trail.

Someone had spent a lot of time and effort in building a makeshift bridge of stones and logs across Jack Creek – it was wonderful! I didn't have to ford the creek at all. Mica, however, waded right in. Never one to let a little water or mud go by untouched, she crossed half on the bridge and half in the water.

I burned all of our garbage in the fire. The coals are so white hot that everything has melted down to almost nothing. I would feel guilty if there wasn't already so much debris here.  Someone threw out a tossed salad, not five feet away from the fire and had halfheartedly scraped an inch or so of dirt over it. Mica, of course, found it right away.

Oh, I almost forgot to mention this to what I know will be the delight of G.:  After one night of hands-free, blissful sitting-in-comfort to do my business, I am now back to squatting for a pee.  There was a wonderful, clean outhouse at the Cathedral Pass trailhead and it even had toilet paper. It was like the Hiking Hilton!  (See … you don’t think about these little day-to-day hiking mechanics when you’re looking at all the pretty pictures someone else took of their trip, do you?)

Micki not happy about having her photo taken during breakfast.

And now we’re ‘homeward-bound,’ so to speak.  (I keep hearing melody and words of the Simon and Garfunkel song running through my mind.)  We are finally in the Stuart Range and should only have about 23-miles left. Heck, we should be able to knock that off in three days instead of the plan four – IF the weather holds out, and IF Mickey holds out, and IF I hold out. I have a slight muscle pull in my left gastroc that is quite sore. I'm anticipating that a good night sleep should fix it up just fine. If we're all feeling good by the time we make Ingalls Lake, we’ll trot right on down to Esmeralda Campground.

I'm not sure if Mickey can handle two 11-mile days in a row, though. I suppose it will depend on the trail. As long as it's not too rocky, she does pretty well. It's the sharp, abrasive little rocks that irritate her paws.

Tomorrow night we can start thinking about how and where were going to meet C&G. What with my light two-pound summer sleeping bag, I'm beginning to think about meeting them someplace LOWER and warmer!  Plus, the closer we are to the trailhead, the fewer hunters we'll have to put up with. I'd rather the dogs barked at them as they ride by, than have some undisciplined jerks taking pot shots at our precious mutts!

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