After a few more miles I made camp in this saddle.
I was fixing supper when a Peruvian sheepherder rode up. He spoke Spanish and my intermittent studies paid off; he accepted my invitation to beer...and then dinner (corazon). He and another live in two trailers parked about a mile apart. One of 'em is that white rectangle in the "flat" area.
He said their contract was for three years. I showed him my copy of Overland Journal. That's the Trout Creek drainage to the left of my right shoulder.
It looked like there might be a road into it, but I decided to follow the Devils Creek road; it resonated more. It was definitely The Road Less Traveled." (I'd be lost without my Garmin Etrex.)
It's beautiful country. And I had it pretty much to myself.
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