Today marked the first day I saw horses on the trail. Technically the entire PCT is open to horse travel as well as hiking, though I am skeptical that horses could make it over some of the treacherous mountain passes in the High Sierra (I’m looking at you, Forester Pass). They appeared as I came around the bend on a scrub-covered hillside, slowly striding toward me as I stepped off to the side. The riders in blue denim jackets nodded politely as they paraded past, their giant mounts clomping along the narrow, dusty path. One horse chose that moment to drop a large pile of scat directly onto the trail, portending what lay ahead on the day’s trek.
Perhaps attracted to (or brought by?) the horses, almost as soon as I started to hike again I walked straight into a cloud of tiny flying ants. I had spotted the shifting black mass hovering over the trail ahead, but assumed that the insects would disperse as I passed through them. But they wouldn’t let me go that easily. As soon as my face touched the swarm, a hundred tiny ants had attached themselves to my clothes and skin. I tried to brush them off but the bugs stubbornly clung on, forcing me to pick off each little ant one by one. The sensation of all the black bugs crawling over my head was like feeling a hundred separate itches that you can’t quite scratch. Two more ant clouds blocked my path as I continued, but I had learned my lesson and gave them a wide berth.
Some time later, my face covered in dust and tiny ant pieces, I came to a rushing creek running over slick rocks into a large pool next to the trail. The water was ice cold but I gratefully splashed my face in the small waterfall and took off my shoes to soak my feet in the pool. I had discovered a true oasis in the midst of the dusty mountains, and spent a long time entranced by the beautiful scene, the water refreshing all of my tired senses.
Russell on the Road 