AZT: catching them all before the border

Day 22 – 15 miles +3281

Two and four legged friends

You know some people come into your life; You didn’t expect them to stay, and then they do, and you say:

«Are you sure? You like me? Don’t you think I’m super weird?!»

Having Jill drive to Summerhaven to meet me was special to me. It was like sealing the bond of our friendship. Having agreed on the date and time, I was wracking my brain in the days leading up to it. Why would he do all this for me? Are you really going to come here to support my silly walk through Arizona?

Yet there she was at Marshall Gulch TH. With grocery bags full of fruit, cheese, yogurt, chips, vegetables, olives, chocolate and granola bars. There she didn’t hesitate to give me a hug even though I STINK. Their dog Bobbie jumps between us with excitement. There she was with a delicious chicken sandwich and a cold soda. My CDT backpack in the trunk of his car in case I wanted to change equipment.

Friendships are orderly. Very, very neat.

Also, the trail south of Summerhaven was overgrown at times but unexpectedly beautiful. After days in the dry desert, water flowed beneath a canopy of golden aspen trees. Depart Summerhaven in the afternoon to watch a stunning sunset over Cathedral Rock.

Day 23 – 35 miles +9669

The midnight mystery

There are a lot of things that can wake you up when you sleep outside: sudden rain, mosquitoes, a bug trying to get into your snack bag, a mountain goat licking your urine (didn’t you know?), or something with four legs breaking a bunch of twigs in the dark. But it’s usually not the light of five headlights that wakes you up.

It was around hiker midnight when I decided to stop hiking, so I’m just a cowgirl camping not far from the AZT. Somewhere near Sabino Canyon. There is no moonlight, only thick, dense darkness.

For a moment I don’t know if the headlights are coming from the north or the south. But after a few seconds, I realize that they are going south like me. Did I just pass out from a short nap? Had there been hikers behind me this whole time? The five walk orderly in a line. And they are not slow either.

One of them notices me: I hear a short «oh» and a headlight flashes in my direction. But they don’t stop, and a few seconds later, the darkness has swallowed them again.

Minutes pass as I try to understand what just happened. I look at my wristwatch: shortly after midnight. Real midnight. There is no trailhead nearby if you are coming from the north. And the sun sets around 6 pm, almost 6 hours ago? Another thing I found strange about them was the uniformity of their headlights. Although I hadn’t seen anything, no backpacks or clothing or other equipment, I bet all five of them had the exact same headlamp.

The next morning, he was still wondering about the encounter. Boy Scouts? But they didn’t look like children.

In the afternoon, I hear faint gunshots as I wander from one guardhouse to another. I had initially “only” planned to go 30 miles today, but the gift shop where my next resupply box awaits (well, it’s Philipp’s), closes at 4 pm, and if I walk another 5 miles tonight, I won’t have to hurry as much tomorrow.

Well, I should have checked the elevation profile before deciding to «just add another 5 miles.» 💀 The climb into the Rincón mountains towards Saguaro National Park is no joke.

At this point, it no longer feels like a hike; I’m climbing one curve after another. Even though I’m breathing hard and my calves are burning, it’s very cold here. In a desperate attempt to stay warm, I pull the sleeves of my raincoat up to my knuckles and grip my trekking poles tightly. Another 2 miles, does this ever end?

Finally, in the light of my headlight, a kind of cabin appears. Endowment camp. I open the trace log. Stunned by the most recent entry, I look at my watch. Today. Grasshopper happened TODAY. For a long time, he had been days ahead of me. Too many days to catch him. Already in Colossal Cave? Or is it here? I start wandering through the tall pines and around the cabin, looking for a tent. It’s almost 10pm now, so I’d be asleep anyway, but I just needed to know. I hadn’t seen any sobo hikers since Flagstaff.

Day 24 – 31 miles +3881

Resupply Trail Racing

“No,” I whisper, pressing the little arrow on my app again. The map is wrong. The GPS is bad. I didn’t go the wrong way, I didn’t walk 1.5 miles UPHILL off the trail.

Anger and frustration form a lump in my throat. I turn around and run down the path I just came up. A few minutes ago, I was trying to walk carefully around the cat claw branches that covered the small path, but now I don’t care, now I don’t have time to worry.

Of all the days I could have missed with AZT, it’s the only day I have to pick up my box at the gift shop before 4 pm. Of all the places I could have gotten lost, I got lost in a national park, where there are more signs than anywhere else in the AZT. Plus, more trails and more crossings than anywhere else. As I run, the thorns split my skin and blood runs down my bare legs, but I don’t care. My rage is so all-consuming that I can’t even feel the dozens of cuts.

When I get to the intersection where I made the mistake, I see the little arrow under the AZT sticker. In a hurry, I update the navigation app and do the math. If I want to have a 30 minute time frame, I have to walk 3 miles per hour for another 6 hours. I start running.

The constant tapping of my feet has a calming effect. I find my rhythm, concentrating on where my feet are going to avoid tripping over the rocks. At least my backpack is light since there is no food left. I run, jog and stride through the park. Running my own little imaginary race to the cave’s colossal gift shop. It was actually fun.

3:30 pm was my goal.

At 02:30, the kind lady hands me a small package. «Philipp» is crossed out with a marker and someone had scribbled «Maya» underneath. On my run, I passed a young hiker: “Sorry, I have to grab my box,” I said with an apologetic smile as I flew past. “Good luck!” he had shouted. That must be Grasshopper. He must have been walking pretty fast too, because it’s not long before he appears at the top of the stairs and drops into a chair.

«Hey»

«Hey»

“So you’re Grasshopper?”

«Yes and you?»

«Pinecone. I’d seen your name in the logbooks for so long that I didn’t think I’d ever find you. It’s good to see you, I haven’t seen anyone since Flagstaff.»

We unpack our backpacks on the patio while drinking refreshments and debriefing about our experience on the trail, our gear, and the people we’ve met.

“What is your plan for the goal?” asked.

“November 2, I will only do the 20s”

“Very good”, I want to finish on the 31st and in fact I still have a few kilometers left to walk that day.

“It was good to see you,” I say before leaving, and I mean it. It is his first walk and he is doing very well. Upgraded from a tent to a lightweight tarp already in Flagstaff – winning.

A few hours later, when I finally take off my shoes, a sharp pain shoots through my foot. All day I felt like my foot hurt. Worse than normal, but I’ve been ignoring it.

Day 25 – 26 miles +5197

How to spend your days with AZT

A wooden board has been mounted on the short side of the cow trough. Wide enough to sit on. A perfect little bench for cooking dinner. 4 more nights left. A little late to realize that this is how AZT should have been going up all this time. Stop just before sunset, enjoy a hot meal in my belly, and then settle into camp. Instead of walking around at night like crazy until my headlight blinks.

Would I have been able to finish the 700 miles? Probably not. Unfortunately, but fortunately, I was able to dedicate a month to this hike. But why should we reach an end point? I could have relaxed and finished a long hike through the butt section in Tucson for Halloween.

As a result of the last two days, I am dealing with foot pain that has not improved today. In a lousy attempt to fix it, I bandaged the second smallest toe, which made walking even more painful. However, 26 miles and a sunset isn’t so bad.

I got a text message saying that tomorrow he will be heading north until we meet. “This is crazy,” I say to myself and turn off the phone, smiling.

Day 26 – 28 miles +4941

Catching them all (the sobos)

I am cocooned under the big round silver spotlight. It’s back! Like the first nights on the AZT, the moon shines on me, almost too bright. Next week a month will have passed. A long one. A month of maximum luminosity, from before dawn to after dusk. Although by then summer will surely be over, and I’m a little sad about it. My body needs winter. My body needs blizzards, short days, and the soft feel of snow under my skis. I need to cook soup and read books, and feel embraced by 5 layers of clothing.

The night before I barely slept again. The pain in my foot is killing me, not literally, but it is keeping me awake, making me toss and turn. At night, while I’m resting, it’s worse than when I’m hiking. “I’m sorry, feet,” I whisper, but they don’t like apologies. They want to be put in ski boots instead of slammed against rocks in worn-out trail shoes.*

It was a good day of hiking, I walked the 10 miles to the Kentucky campground before 10am. Kim and Jeff, the hosts, plus their pups Charlie and McGee, welcomed me. The place is beautiful, not at all what comes to mind when you hear “camp.” And the “cabin” for rent is more like a small house with a wrap-around porch and barbecue. Kim hands me Gatorade, granola bars, and LINDT CHOCOLATE.

The next 18 miles are cruising, it’s hot but not too hot. I know that Jesse, another sobo hiker, can’t be far ahead, based on the clear footprints in the sand. And just before sunset, I see a small freestanding tent exactly where I intended to stay. The only recorded campsite along this ridge. Oh ok.

«Hello»

«Hello?»

“Are you Jesse?”

I finally caught up to him. Actually, for all three of them: AI took a break from touring Summerhaven, Grasshopper on Sunday, and Jesse today. The three sobos that Gary and Todd had told me about when I was first joining the Supes. He likes it when there are no people in the way, Jesse says. I chuckle, «yeah, I thought that too. I guess this trail has changed my mind.»

“How far are you going to go today?” he asks.

I’m not saying it’s in «my» place.

«Just until dark.»

*How long does AZT last? Exactly one pair of shoes long.