The tip of my Leatherman will be our departure point.
The Walker Expedition, of course, didn’t cross the Black Rock Desert. Didn’t come anywhere near it, in fact. But I can’t find a large-enough swath of public land along the Humboldt River, the expedition’s actual route, for Duke and I to hike in. I need to hike in something comparable – I need to hike through country covered with scrub brush and dust, flat and between mountains, and that holds a solitary watercourse. That way I can assess the name that Zenas Leonard, the expedition’s clerk, gave to what we now call the Humboldt: the “Barren River.” Assuming that Leonard Creek holds water when it reaches the public lands south of the mountains where I’ll be hiking, this terrain should be similar.
The packs are packed, and as soon as I upload this entry to the web, I’ll drive south (out of Verizon’s data service range), stop on the western side of the desert, and put my boots to the turf. I’m excited. Despite the gallons of water I’m carrying, my pack seems compact. I guess that’s because I’m comparing it to the load I carried over the Wyoming and Salt River Ranges, where I was provisioned for six nights instead of one. Either that or I forgot a bunch of stuff. I’ll find out in a few hours.
Packs and dog. Hang on, Duke, I'm on the way.
POSTSCRIPT. I departed in the early afternoon, but set this entry to auto-post at 10:00 PM PST.
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