Day 14, The Meadows to Swinging Cross Canyon

The next hour of hiking continued to climb, though not nearly as steeply. By 10:30 a.m. I was starting to feel worn down. It probably wasn't just the climb that was making me tired.

I was also growing weary from the rocky trail, which was the Prior Creek Trail. It was eroded, likely because it is used by horse riders.

I stopped to take a short break and eat a snack bar, and I soon felt better.

After climbing to nearly 7,400 feet, the trail gradually dropped about 500 feet. At the bottom of that descent was Prior Cabin. A sign posted on the locked door said it was owned by the New Mexico Department of Fish and Game.

When I arrived there at 10:50 a.m., Zigzag was just preparing to leave. I stayed about 15 minutes to eat another snack after he left.

A short distance away from the cabin was a rusted metal object that looked almost like a satellite dish. It was called a trick tank. The idea behind it is to collect rainwater, as a large funnel might, and store it in a large tank underneath.

There was no water in the tank, but I hadn't counted on finding any here.

The sky was clear, but the temperature remained a little cooler than it had been. The wind was also gustier this morning than yesterday.

The Gila High Route then turned to follow Trotter Trail, and soon after that, I arrived at Clear Creek. This was the first water source we'd passed since leaving Doc Campbell's Post that wasn't the Gila River. The creek wasn't a big stream, but there was enough flow to easily collect and filter for our water bottles.

Zigzag was already here when I arrived. We stayed for 45 minutes and ate lunch. During that time, a layer of clouds moved in and the weather turned more windy and chilly.

Zigzag and I walked together after lunch, starting at around 2:15 p.m. The trail made another climb over a ridge. As usual, there was a spot where the trail disappeared, and we had to find our way to where it could be followed again.

Oddly, the Guthook app was much more accurate today about the track display matching the trail's path than it was yesterday.

The ridge showed signs of a forest fire. Tree trunks were blackened, and some burnt branches scattered the ground.

A grave was supposedly in this area, though I failed to see it. It is said to be the grave of a trapper named Papineau, who was buried here after being killed by Apache Indians.

Soon after the trail crested the ridge and began descending to Swinging Cross Canyon, a hiker named Cruise Control caught up to us. He told us he was from Virginia and had thru-hiked the PCT in 2019, the same year I did it.

After stopping for a brief conversation, he departed with a deliberate, quick pace. His trail name seemed to fit him well.

We arrived at a large campsite near the river before 5 p.m. This was early enough that we considered collecting some water and hiking another three to four miles. When Cruise Control said he decided to stay here, we agreed to do that as well.

The campsite in Swinging Cross Canyon was ideal, except it was nearly impossible for me to set up my tent here. The wind was gusty, so I needed to stake the tent solidly to the ground. The problem with that was my tent pegs wouldn't stay in place. They were nail-style pegs, which work well in firm ground but not in the canyon's sandy soil.

When I thought I had one corner staked down, another corner popped loose. I was finally able to get all four corners anchored by piling large rocks on top of the pegs.

Soon after I finished dinner and climbed into my tent, another hiker arrived at our campsite. I couldn't tell if it was someone I knew.

Later, I didn't hear frogs while lying in my tent, as I did last night. This time, I heard turkeys gobble nearby.