In which the Annual Adventure comes to a peaceful conclusion

We did one more day-trip before packing up to head back to our trailer: up from Linton Meadow to the Pacific Crest Trail, and then down again towards our camp. The ride was short--7 miles, maybe 8 miles--and we travelled at a slow and leisurely pace, still trying to convince Cricket to relax.

Unlike any of the trails we'd travelled thus far on the trip, the PCT is--while scrupulously cleared and maintained by hordes of volunteers and parks service employees--a historic trail, and thus is often not re-engineered or re-routed, even when the historic route is clearly unstable or frequently blocked by blowdown.

As a result, I saw some of the skinniest, squirreliest, worrisomest trail of our entire journey while on a very short stretch of the PCT.

Of course I don't have photos of the squirrely bits of the trail, since I was too busy staying steel-side-down to bring out the camera.

Fiddle believes firmly that she can travel quickly OR in a bent frame

(bent =more stable on a skinny slope) but not both simultaneously, so I was kept very occupied with supporting her bent frame as we travelled slowly-but-safely down the trail.

The views from the PCT are unsurpassed, and worth the climb. Even after climbing and balancing along trails that had my heart pounding, Cricket was still rarin' to go.

Fortunately, however, Cricket managed to stay on-task the entire day. She was eager, but not silly.

Phew.



The next morning, we packed up all our gear to head back to the trailer.

In theory, we were carrying less "stuff" for the ride out--after all, all four of us had been eating for several days, and we weren't carrying the food anymore, right? -- and yet my packs felt just as crammed on the last day as they had felt on the first day. Hmmm.

This may be proof that my mother is right again, in that she always said that mass will expand to fill the space available. When she said it originally, Mom was talking about my closet, I think. Somehow, it works the same with camping gear. Who would've guessed it?

The walk downhill seemed to go quicker than the walk in to camp.

Certainly, downhill is easier than uphill, but also we had a better knowledge of our surroundings.

Most importantly, Cricket understood that we were headed back to the trailer, and she and Fiddle were eager to get there and eat all the hay waiting for them there.

We arrived at the trailer, cleaned up the horses and then ourselves, and headed back home.

Our Annual Adventure was over for this year...and we are already considering new adventurous destinations for next summer.

Got any suggestions?

Life is good!