Circle the Cirque Crest

From near the trail (see it?) in upper Paradise Valley in the camp area, you can look up-canyon in the the beginnings of the Muro-Blanco and the wall of the Cirque Crest.

Home Stretch

Circle The Cirque Crest - By D.W.Donehoo (All rights reserved)

You would think my adventures would be over, but not so. The Paradise Valley trail is a busy place, so there were people coming and going, and towards mid-afternoon two hardy young women pulled into camp to spend the night. After I had made their acquaintance and explained my predicament, they kindly offered to feed me dinner, and as it turned out, breakfast the next morning. This was all well and good, except one of the ladies, a hardy mountaineer and peak bagger, did the cooking and her main ingredient was something revolting called coos-coos. I had never seen a coos-coos, much less ate one, but I think my physical reaction to my injury made my stomach fairly sensitive, so now if I never see another coos-coos again it will be too soon. They said they had oatmeal for breakfast, so I joined them, only to find that Mountaineer Woman had cut the oatmeal with coos-coos, which meant I had to find a good place to bury oatmeal.

Day 12. Wednesday, September 10.
As day turned to evening, I realized rescue would have to wait till morning, so I set up the tent and gear, had gag reflex inducing coos-coos laced dinner with the girls, and went to bed. I actually slept fairly well except for the first time in years I had to get up during the night to void....three times. A real trick with a bum ankle. The next morning I got up, packed, ate some food, buried breakfast, and sat down to wait. Soon the girls left promising to urge rescue to hurry along.

At 11:30, the horse-packer arrived to pick up one impatiently waiting backpacker. The ride back was entertaining, and sometimes painful when the horse cut corners too close and banged my bad foot on rocks. I learned to guide the horse around rocks and away from my foot. Going down steep switch-backs was also a thrill, being perched so high above cliffs on top of a live animal. Towards the end it was all pain from the horse beating my rear-end to death, and general pain from a three hour horseback ride. Finally, I was back at the trailhead, on my feet, off that horse, and heading home. When we drove into the pack station, quite a crowd gathered to look at my swollen black-and-blue to the knee leg. A Ranger came around to get my report and offer advice, then chatted awhile. After discussing the fee with the packer ("Just send us a check when you get home. I trust you!"), we packed our things into the truck.

Then Dave and I found that shower and buffet.

-- The End --