CDT Day 59 (7/16/23)
Miles 1413.3 (Red line 1630.3)- 1455.7 (Red Lin 1672.7) (42.4 miles)
Verbatim
It’s whack a bug at this cowboy camp. So far I’ve killed one fly (of maybe six that have been buzzing around my head for the last hour), three little ticks, and maybe 5/6 mosquitoes. There’s currently one mosquitoes that’s thwarting my purge. I’ve caught him twice in my hand but have been unable to squash him… It’s likely I’ll have more mosquito bites on my forehead in the morning. But, at least the flies are not biting like the water flies in the middle of the day were. Those were horrible. My legs are an amalgamation of sun splotches, burn, and bug bites. They itch.
It’s clearly been a long day. But hey, the sunrise time and sunset time are beautiful. I’m on a bluff overlooking the vast expanse of the desert. It’s color during the day gets largely washed out towards a tan/brown. But now things look very green, albeit a pea soup sort of green. Or is it sea poop green? Like my eyes. :) Orange in the clouds. Orange brown on the sides of the Pronghorn. There’s beauty out here.
There’s also mosquitoes. HOW? The lone survivor has brought reinforcements, and I can’t catch any of them. OK I JUST GOT ONE.
Both my big toes picked up blisters today. That’s actually really annoying. I also had butt chafe by the end of the day. The “B&B”, haha, results from all the sand I was walking on today. Literal sand roads. The sand is coarse and gets into the shoes, but walking in sand also requires so much extra torque by the front of the foot. Maybe that change in walking affects my butt too? Or maybe that just comes with the territory of bigger miles.
Some good things happened today too. I saw Pronghorn, cows, and a Coyote all converging on a water source at the same time as me. The Coyote and Pronghorn fled. The cows came right up to share. I also found some dehydrated beans in a metal pipe by a water source. I traded em out for a bag of mini Reeses pieces (a mistake to have bought). I also had some shade at mile thirty for a break at the spring. That was nice too.
I just killed another mosquito!
Post Note
Just a reminder, or moment of initial awareness; it took me a long time to write each of these journal entries. Longer than it takes for me to transfer them from my physical journal onto the web. Much longer than it takes for you to read them. Writing in the journal at the end of each day could be disturbed by any number of things. Bugs, dinner, the beauty of the sunset, adjusting my position or resting my hand, a friend catching up and chatting, checking the map for previous or upcoming miles, looking at pictures for reminders. So, I think it’s important to point out that these mosquito kills came something like twenty minutes apart. They were a big deal! For the whole time I was writing I was subjected to their incessant desire.
You know. I was really so ready for the basin to end. Even now as I’m journaling and reflecting I can’t wait for it to end. Let’s get to the Winds! Those are better memories. Usually I can picture any number of points in a day’s hiking when prompted by reading the journal. This day, however, seems unusually vague. I’m impressed I got 40+ in because the only really clear memories I have from the day are from moments when I was stopped. I remember the best water in the basin. Liquid clear crystalline pure ambrosia from the heavens themselves was pouring out of the ground into a tractor tire from a metal pipe (Turns out heaven is the ground? That’s theological!). I should have taken a bath. But I didn’t because of the cows. All for the cows. Everything is for the cows out there. They have no fear because they have nothing to be afraid of.
Except the bugs. Every cow is covered in bugs. That’s probably something to be thankful to ranching for. Without the cows, who are sitting ducks and utterly defenseless against biting flies and mosquitoes, the thickness of bugs irritating us hikers would probably be much more intense. Although perhaps without the cows there would maybe be less free and accessible blood and skin banks from which the mosquitoes and flies could propagate? I don’t know. Also. Don’t say that it’s only because of ranching and the water they set out for cows that thruhikers are able to maneuver through lands like the basin. That’s simply not true. Yes, coming across this water trough was really lovely and quite frankly, convenient. But if the water wasn’t here the trail would just go to a different and natural spring. Maybe it would be a longer carry. That’s alright. We thruhikers like a challenge. It’s hard for a reason. The pioneers came this way and they managed. We can do it too. And plus, the frickin cows stomp out all the natural water courses anyways. So if they weren’t here there might actually me MORE accessible water. That’s why Wolves, Lions, and Bears are important. They push grazing animals off delicate spaces. Then delicate animals can flourish in the delicate spaces. Then the delicate spaces remain for the big animals who can use them when they need but know it wouldn’t be wise to abuse the easy satiation of their needs. They might end up in a stomach if they do that.
I sat down in the shadow of the telephone pole providing electricity to the water pump which so wonderfully filled the trough. One vertical line of shadow that was always moving in correlation to the sun. Always inching away from protecting me, like it resented that I only loved it because I could use it. From this vertical line of shade I saw Coyote, Pronghorn, and cow all walking towards me. I tried to film it of course, which is always a mistake, and it turned out terrible. Don’t film anything valuable on these trips. Just experience it. The hunger of the memory and the absence of the fake memory, aka the video, will pressure you into going out and living more of those memories. I can remember it because I saw it, except of course for the moment I was trying to video it. I’ll go out and see more. Squirrel. Remember?