We left Reeds Peak shortly after noon on Thursday, with a half-day head start towards Diamond Peak. We stopped at Squeaky Spring to make sure we had a full supply of water, then continued on to what we thought was Reeds Meadow. (It should be noted here that whereas we had been told that the cistern at the top of Reeds Peak would probably be full, it was, in fact, empty. Something in the collection system off the roof of the main building must have broken loose, for in spite of the wonderful rains that had fallen, no water had been collected.) We hiked in rain a good part of the afternoon, and after we reached what we thought was Reeds Meadow, Pem built us a good fire, so that we were able to enjoy our evening meal and get into our tents and sleeping bags fairly warm and dry. Just as we got to where we camped, we saw a flock of turkeys running into the woods at the other end of the meadow. Friday morning we awakened to the sound of turkeys gobbling. Pem did not know what that sound was, and thought maybe it was wild dogs barking at each other, but from growing up on a farm, where we used to raise domestic turkeys, I knew the unmistakable sound that turkeys make. It provided some nostalgic moments for me, for sure. So we continued to hike towards Diamond Peak. We found a sign that seemed to say Diamond Peak was 3 miles away, but that seemed too close, unless we had walked quite a bit farther than we thought. ~~ or did it say that Diamond Peak was 8 miles away? That seemed much too far, given the miles we were certain we had already covered. Then trail sign stopped; there were no cairns, no CDT emblems, no trail marks on any trees. Also, the hiking was becoming difficult, for dozens of trees had fallen across the trail. We found a trail. We followed it for a long while, then realized that we must be on an animal path. We decided to bush-whack across to where the trail must be. We ended that day in the middle of nowhere. We had gone from a half-day ahead to a day-and-a-half behind. On Saturday, we continued our struggle. We found a trail that we were sure would lead to the back side of Diamond Peak, based on our reading of the map Joseph had given us. Finally, about 4:00 in the afternoon, we came to a junction of trails. The sign told us the trails that met there, and we were able to find the junction on our map. The sign stated that Diamond Peak was 4 miles up the trail, and that the Me Own Fire Base was 8 miles down the trail. Now we had to study hard what to do. We were about three full days behind schedule with food for one day. We did not have time, or food, to get to where we were supposed to find our vehicle on Monday. At the same time, our satellite phone’s battery went dead, so we had no way of communicating our difficulty. We were stuck. Escape was our choice. We hiked down the trail towards Me Own Fire Base, which was an adventure in and of itself. On the way we saw our first bear. It was about 120 yards away from us, and while we were fumbling for our cameras, it ran off into the bushes. Also, the trail crossed a creek (we think Diamond Creek) a couple of dozen times. Because of the rains that had been falling, the stream was full of water. At first we tried to find stepping stones or find logs to throw across the stream, but after awhile we just splashed through each "ford" of the stream, no longer caring about our wet feet. We reached the fire base just at sundown, had our supper, and went to bed. We figured that in the morning we’d walk to a phone, make connections with our support team, and get ready for Monday. As it turned out, things weren’t quite that simple. Sunday morning dawned bright and sunny. For the first time in six days, we were confident that there would be no rain. (We hadn’t minded the rain, for we were prepared for it; it was nice to walk in the solitude of a downpour, and we had come to experience all that the Trail had to offer. We did NOT expect 60-some cool, sunny days. Moreover, the rain was filling the streams with water, so even though our food was running low, water was not an issue.) Our plan was to hike to a phone, let Audrey know what had happened, find out if our rig had been moved yet, and talk to Joseph about where to meet him on Monday noon. It turned out that there were no phones, for even though we were on a good Forest Service road, we were still in the wilderness. As we approached the first of two or three campgrounds shown on our map, we realized that these were going to be primitive campgrounds with no phones, not even "comfort stations." As we approached the first such place, we saw a couple setting up camp there. Long story short, we begged for a ride to the nearest phone, they allowed as how the nearest phone was 24 miles away in Mimbres, and they had no intention of leaving their camp site to assist us in any way. We begged to borrow their pickup, offering to leave all our stuff with them and return the truck with a fresh tank of gas; that request was also flat-out rejected. We realized that if we were going to walk 24 miles, we’d better get back on the road and hope for a passing motorist that would give us a ride somewhere; indeed, anywhere where there was a phone. As we walked back up to the road, I remembered it was Sunday, and realized I hadn’t done any worshipping of any kind on this Sunday morning. ~~ hadn’t even noticed the beauty of the remarkable wilderness through which we were hiking. In that moment, I just said, sort of to myself, "Dear God, we need out of this place." We were by then back on the road, and while we were having a drink of water and adjusting our gear, within minutes, a Sheriff’s Deputy came down the road. Wow! Did I say "Thank you, Lord!?" Sheriff’s Deputy Stan Thompson did, indeed, become one of the many, many trail angels that we met. He first agreed to take us to Mimbres to a phone, apologizing for the fact that we’d have to ride in the back of the Ford Bronco that was his vehicle. Then in conversation, he asked, "Do you people have a vehicle?" I replied that we did have one, which was supposed to be waiting for us by Monday noon at the trailhead on NM 59 north of Lookout Mountain. Stan asked, "Is it a brown Yukon?" I replied, "No, it’s a gray Yukon." He came back, "Yes, probably gray. ~~ Colorado plates?" "Yes!" "It’s there now; why don’t I just take you to it?" Suddenly all was well in our world. Sheriff’s Deputy Stan Thompson, based in Truth or Consequences, took us to our rig. We drove from there to Truth or Consequences, called Audrey who called Moni, and called Joseph Gendron, who was going to meet us at that trailhead the next day. So we failed to cover Segment 11, 12, and 13, leaving them for further make-up hiking in October. We stayed over in Truth or Consequences, did our laundry, and talked with another real trail angel, Rotarian Richard Epstein, who brought Joseph to our meeting place the next day.
Campsite at Reeds Meadow
Is that Diamond Peak?
Where is that Trail?
Hikers clearly off trail, two days late, low on food
Storm approaching
Storm behind us
Me Own Fire Base Camp site
Rescuer Deputy Thompson with Pem and Mat
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