21mi, on Mt. Taylor Alternate

The next morning everyone goodbye to Fainting Goat, she heads to Albuquerque in two days to get a cast. Hopefully she can heal before it is time to use an ice axe in the San Juan's.

Leaving Grants, I crossed paths with two locals named John & Rydel, they never heard of the trail, but were helpful in giving directions to the Mt. Taylor trailhead, about a 18 mi walk from the center of town. One said that he lived near a "steamboat" shaped rock heading out of town. Just out of town I was shifting from the intense gusts of wind, as I lost count of the amount of shotgun shells I walked over after passing the New Mexico Corrections Facility. There was numerous "DO NOT PICK UP HITCHHIKERS", signs along highway 547.

It was refreshing hiking on real trail for once, since a LOT of what I've been walking on has been dirt road in until now. As I ascended into the hills I kept catching glimpses of Mt. Taylor, a 11,306 ft / 3,446 m, "Big pile of dirt." As I like to call it.

Once settling down for the night at the second water source out of town, Gooseberry Spring, with Chris, Acorn, and I a furry tick-covered beast decided to camp with us for the night. It was what must have been a newly abandoned dog, or stray that resembled a Native American reservation dog. No collar, no dog tag, no name, but still had its balls, a huge appetite, and ability to annoy the three of us constantly as we horfed down our dinners. I eventually succumbed to to the little guy and smeared peanut butter on a stick and threw it away from us for him to eat. I hoped I wouldn't regret this decision. He plopped down behind one of our tents as zipped up for the night.