All day long we looked south to the main drainage. It shone silver.

We spent the day traipsing around and about in something like a square mile and a half, as much vertical as horizontal, on constantly rough terrain. We entered and left on ancient trails not used since the invention of the internal combustion engine.

I couldn’t see how even a wagon could have gone where we did. Perhaps it was just people on foot. Later, horses or mules.

The trails did feel like trails, in the sense of “the logically easiest way to get up this challenging slope.”