Again I passed Devil's Postpile as I meandered through heavy dust and copious horseshit. Why do I have to dig a 6" cathole while the equestrians leave piles in the middle of the trail, spreading invasive plants all over the damned place? At any rate, I followed a small train of very sluggish city folks on tired geldings for around a mile before they decided, grudgingly, to let me pass. Never thought I'd be passing horses on a trail.
Near dusk, I was approaching Agnew Meadows when I came across a day hiker, mid 60s, coming up a side trail. We started chatting and I slowed down to keep pace with him. The discussion started with our agreement that speeding through the Sierras was a terrible idea, but veered off quickly into an entire history of his life. He began asking me personal questions with great interest. I gave him short, polite answers and sped up. When we got to the campground, I tried to take off with a quick goodbye, but the dude reached over and kissed me on the lips before I could move out of the way. I am proud to say that I did not punch him. Turned toward the trail and just walked away without even rsising a trekking pole
A couple of teenagers barreling down the hill informed me that I had 14 switchbacks coming up. Didn't really want thar information, but I dutifully vounted them as I wheezed up them in the twilight. The trail flattened near the end, and I passed out in a quiet, somewhat flat space a bit before a water source. Dry camping is nice sometimes...almost guarantees a little solitude.