SUMMARY:  We tiptoed past the horse packer camp at 6:00 am, but the dogs spotted us and set up a ruckus!  Our goal was to hike down to the Middle Fork of the Gila River, then take an alternate route to Snow Lake.  But we decided to do one last dance with the Gila–it really is pretty there, and it was only 7 miles, so it was back to lots of river crossings, hunting for trail, crossing debris, and admiring the dramatic beauty of the canyon.  We reached Snow Lake, hung out for awhile with “Hippy Longstocking”, and headed out on the next leg of our adventure–a crosscountry (no official trail) run up a canyon and into the hills beyond.  But we missed a turn somehow and are camped tonight somewhere…not sure exactly.  Hopefully we’ll relocate the trail tomorrow!

DETAILS:  We did our best to tiptoe past the horse packer camp at 6:00am, but the dogs spotted us and set up a ruckus! Then we spotted a couple of the wrangler “students” already up, chopping wood and building a fire.  They gave us a wave, and we headed back to the trail.  Our goal was to hike down to the Middle Fork of the Gila River, take another trail up the other side of the canyon, then roadwalk to Snow Lake.

We’d stopped at the Gila to AquaMira some water, when along came 2 more guys who were part of the Prior Cabin group.  One of them was limping badly–turned out that he slipped on one of their Gila River crossings and really hurt his ankle. They stopped to talk, and told us about the route we were planning to take.  “It’s quite a climb up from here to the road,” they said.  “We know, because our car is parked up there.  And distance-wise, it’s the same as staying with the river.”  Fixit and I thought about it and decided, “The river route is flat–no big climb; it has water; it’s pretty.  Let’s do one last dance with the Gila.  It’s only 7 miles.”

So it was back to lots of river crossings, hunting for trail, crossing debris, and admiring the dramatic beauty of the canyon walls and the shimmering green shade of the trees.  Halfway or so along, we met another hiker, Hippy Longstocking, who was waiting for her boyfriend.  “Have you seen him?” she asked.  No, we hadn’t.  “Well, I stopped here to warn him about which way to go,” she cautioned.  “You have to be really careful.  Can you see the river there?”  We said we could, no problem, and pointed to it.  “That’s NOT the Gila,” she said.  “It’s Iron Creek.  The REAL Gila is sneaking off into those willows.  Lots of hikers get messed up here–they follow the creek instead of the river.”  Fixit and I inwardly groaned.  We knew from experience what that was like!  I thought to myself, “AGAIN God puts just the right person in our path to help us know where to go.  Thank you!”

We took care to CROSS Iron Creek, and follow the Gila as it went sneaking along, till finally we could see the Snow Creek Dam up ahead. When we reached the campground, we all (Hippy L. had caught up with us) more or less collapsed.  “Tired” does not even begin to describe how we felt.  Finally we recovered enough to load up on water for the next leg of the hike (no water for a long way).  Hippy was still waiting for her boyfriend, and worrying about whether he was OK.  But the delay was just what I needed, because I discovered we were missing a couple of key maps for the trail up ahead.  Hippy (like all the younger hikers) uses Guthook on her cellphone, but she did have paper maps as a backup, so I was able to take pictures of the maps we were missing.  Again, I do NOT think this was a coincidence.  Many younger hikers do not carry paper maps, but she did.  I said a silent, “Thank you, Lord, for sending Hippy to help us out AGAIN!”

Just then, her boyfriend finally arrived, and we discovered why he was so slow–he was loaded down with a huge pile of “hiker debris” he’d found lying along the trail.  He had an air mattress, a sleeping bag, a tent, and more.  Fixit and I had seen the stuff he picked up, but we walked by it.  We’d even stepped over a camera lying in a mudhole.  Amazing what the hikers have lost/abandoned.

But it was time to get going.  Up the road we walked, into a very different sort of country–rolling, grassy hills, hardly any trees, and no water.  By keeping a sharp eye out,  we found the CDT turnoff, only it turned out to be a route, not a trail, which followed a grassy canyon as it twisted and turned.  Because there was no trail, we missed a key turn, and found ourselves up in a vast rolling grassland with no clue or hint of where the CDT was, and the sun going down.  So we set up our tent (no cowboy camp after our experience of being “frozen” a few nights ago) and before I went to sleep, I studied the maps very carefully.  I think that maybe…just maybe…I know where we are now.  Will find out tomorrow!