The border, located on the border with Nevada and California, is the highest peak of Nevada at an altitude of over 13,000 feet. After descending to Mount Wheeler, the second highest peak, he called on my husband and I to climb to its top. As we train every day, including jogging a few miles, eat well and maintain good weight, we prepared this task in advance. We also possess the minds of reason and curiosity that are necessary when planning such an excursion. We love camping, so you have good equipment at the ready, and, being retired, we have time for adventure.
We headed southwest of our house, driving about 300 miles to the Border Base at Trail Creek in Esmeralda County. The last 15 miles is dirt that begins with winding through beautiful cab-like but large houses. This seems odd, since we are in miles of any city. Yes, the presentation is fantastic, but the convenience is not included in this package. Then we pass along the brook through wormwood, willows, and then we raise aspens and gear. There was a large pond and village campgrounds, decorated with village drawings, with scattered stone pits. We moved a little further to the path, and since we were lonely travelers, we settled there for the night to be ready for an early morning start. The pedestrian book describes this as a “stressful,” 8-mile round-trip journey. I found it to be average outside, and then the last two miles, grueling, and three ticks beyond tension, and my pedometer said that 9.5 miles when we finished, you know that way.
The trailhead begins with a warning about black bears, and it seems surprising for this rough area, but he added a cautious look to our rise. The trail follows a stream that requires only one small jumping intersection for about two and a half miles with wormwood, willows, kvass and terrible gears. I was pleased to have strong hiking boots, heavy socks and long pants to protect my legs and feet as we strolled through this beautiful and brainless paradise with just a few bird tweets along the route. We also wore several layers, since the beginning of the hike was 80 * at 6:30 in the morning, and the end would be much cooler, and I predicted very windy. My eyes looked up to the saddles, trying to determine which of them would be our climb and the final steps to the top. Just when I stopped on one straight, the path ran left and the rocky path went forward. This is clearly visible, which leads to stress, but there were several shoes to refer to other travelers. Its isolation leaves the boundaries rather confidential.
About half a mile from the gentle rocks, the track turns to the right, and the final saddle and peak target loom forward. The trail becomes much steeper, and you need a lot of breaks in the water and snacks, as well as foot and heart. We transported two gallons of water, a sound recommendation for a heart walk in hot weather. This is a wild fight, but the top constantly attracts, getting closer to each step and, it seemed, away in every rest. When we fell into the snow, we knew that we were approaching our goal, and our last steps led us to the top of the saddle with stunning views of the Sierra far to the west and Nevada ranges far to the east. The ascent took us three and a half hours.
The wind froze in this place, and another coat and neat folded hood tied me up. Drifting snow marked the way to the top, 1000 feet away. The siren sounded, but wisdom preceded the potential sliding glide scale. Plus our dog, a strong, strong German Shorthair signaled that he had enough. At about the same time, our sunny day turned into thunder clouds, and therefore we decided that it was better to return to the camp. I was sad not to stand on top, but decided that 12,069 would be enough.
Climbing is always easier than descending for me, not part of fatigue, but constant caution and tightening of the muscles necessary to prevent falling, and twisting the toes during the slides. Getting started down consists of granite stones and sand, so each step also has a slippage, which makes the trip faster. When I stopped, I climbed up again to find the peak, covered with black clouds, and felt the harsh wind rise from the valley below, rushing to the top. Within 90 minutes we returned to the creek, and another hour caught us in a pickup truck, exhausted but thrilling. We rustled cheese, crackers, peanut butter and jelly, bread and water for our lunch after the hike. The hike was a great achievement and, despite the fact that during the last steps the step went up, the flash “Crazy!” Slipped into my mind as we drove back to Highway 6, we were already planning the next walk.
