It’s snowing. I had tried to get off trail to hunker down and miss the snow, but a miscommunication left me waiting all afternoon for a ride that never materialized.
I’m in my tent at least as it patters on the nylon, hopefully short and sweet. Sadly I used up a lot of battery power discussing plans. I met some cowboys who offered me a ride, but they never seemed to come off the mountain.
Then Miriam said she was on her way. When I did answer her call, she dialed 911. I tried to explain I could only communicate through the satellite but then she just decided not to come – though told me at 5:00 pm.
It was a comedy of errors, my waiting for hours, setting my tent even to be out of the wind, then realizing I needed to just press on to the next water and hope for the best.
Yes, I am responsible for myself out here, but I waited because she said she was coming. It’s not like I can check into a motel or hitch on a jeep track. I have to find water and a safe place to pitch.
There’s an 80% chance of snow tomorrow and highs in the low 40s. I’ll bundle up and make the best of it. There’s a road in 11+ miles so maybe I can hitch to somewhere safe if it really gets awful.
The wind died last night and it cleared up enough for the waxing crescent moon to appear. I was cold, but never shivering.
Clear skies greeted me in the morning and I moved slow to get warm, wearing all my clothes to pack up an ice-covered tent. The sun just barely hits me as I filter water for the big climb ahead.
I put all the “pha’s” – phone, fuel and filter – in the bottom of my sleeping bag so they don’t freeze. The filter works great, but begins to freeze as it filters! I put it in a plastic bag in my pocket next to my skin as I take off. I absolutely must have a working filter.
It turns out the long 11 mile march over the top instead of up the Gila was a smart idea. I was totally dry when I went to bed, so my shoes and socks did not freeze.
Eventually I move making one last crossing of the very low Gila, able to use rocks and stay dry. The sun is on me now as I rise up steep switchbacks to Aeroplane Mesa.
I say goodbye to the river and its glorious canyon and hello to views for miles. Clouds begin to build and the wind picks up. I’m warm and take off a few layers, but they will likely go right back on.
It’s beautiful and different from the top, miles of straw-colored grass and ponderosa with mountains in the distance.
I come down steeply to a campground, and that’s where I meet the cowboys. I get the impression they are doing quick work then leaving before it snows, but I was wrong to assume. They say they’ll pick me up on their way out but I neglect to ask when.
It’s a long road down to Snow Lake. I come out above it and park myself against my pack to wait. The sun is warm but the wind is icy cold.
Squalls pass through, none hitting me. Clouds are so strange in New Mexico. They start out like cumulus, then explode from the wind as if splattered. I wonder if the streaks I see that indicate rain aren’t even hitting the ground.
I already mentioned that I spend a good long while staring at the clouds, communicating (badly) through the satellite then discovering I’m not getting out just now and it would be better to take care of myself than try to figure out how to get out.
It’s just four miles to water and I have a few hours of daylight. The walk begins on a forest track then cuts off onto a confusing section through the final (dry) bits of the Gila. It’s the canyon in miniature with crossings and lost trail as the light wanes.
I’m fairly certain I’ll find water in the pond, the final bit before I leave any trace of the Gila for good, but I still make note when I see a good scoopable puddle should I need to backtrack.
Indeed there is plenty of water and even happy ducks. We’re asked not to camp here but it is only minutes til dark and I hope my one night makes only a tiny impact.
I filter three liters and hope the muddiness doesn’t clog things. It’s 13 miles to a spigot which is hopefully turned on, but I also hope to see people who might lend a hand should the weather be really bad.
I’m cuddled in. Chilly, but I should be ok. I didn’t really want to stop my hike, but with snow and Miriam offering to fetch me, I thought it was the wisest move.
Maybe her changing her mind pushes me forward to complete this section as planned and everything works out for the best. Let’s hope the trail provides and all is well.
