My first solo backpacking trip in almost two years

No more excuses

I woke up at 4 in the morning with excuses already filling my head. I spent the last week giving in to these excuses. Your throat hurts. It’s going to rain and maybe even snow. The creek will be too dangerous to cross in the storm. Night temperatures are going to be too cold. You fell while hiking yesterday and maybe hurt your back. I force my mind to shut up and try to go back to sleep.

“There is no time for excuses,” I tell myself as soon as I open my eyes and see that daylight begins to filter through the blinds. «You’re going backpacking today. You have to do it.»

It had been over a year and a half since I last backpacked and almost two since I traveled solo. I’ve been hiking and camping a lot, but it’s been too long since I’ve been out into the wilderness with everything I need to survive strapped to my back. For the past two years, I had been to Montana and then Alaska and was too afraid to travel alone in grizzly bear country. And then I hurt my back and there was no possibility of walking any distance with added weight to my body.

The day before the trip, I scrolled through Facebook and AllTrails looking at recent trip reports looking for beta on stream crossings and the trip to the saddle. A lot of people seem to be coming to Seven Falls, so the creek can’t be that bad. Hell, the last time I went after a major storm, I crossed the seven crossings in knee-deep water – twice! There’s no way the water can be that high with all those tourists going up there. The stream is not a valid excuse.

A solid plan

My plan was to take the Bear Canyon trail out of the Sabino Canyon Recreation Area. I would pass the tourist destination of Seven Falls and continue to the col where I hoped to find a flat, clear spot to camp. My topo map showed a couple of flat spots up there; I just didn’t know if they would be covered in plants and/or sharp rocks. Another mile beyond the saddle takes me back to the AZT, where I know I’ll be able to find a good campsite. I would cross Bear Creek one last time near the top, so I knew water wouldn’t be a problem. «This is a solid plan,» I said out loud, trying to calm myself. I had found almost enough information to debunk all my excuses.

So- Bingo! I found a post in a Tucson Hiking Facebook group where a woman details her recent hike to the saddle and then to the AZT. If she could do it, so could I. Well, as long as my back helped me get up, my back being the only real unknown.

Once I got out of bed, I went straight to the supermarket to buy some food. I decided to treat myself to my dinner and favorite snacks as an extra reward for being brave and taking on this solo backpacking trip. Taco Rice is the best Knorr rice side dish out there, and I will die on this hill (don’t confuse it with Spanish rice or Mexican rice, they’re not the same!). I also bought a fancy chocolate bar with Hawaiian sea salt and Haribo gummy bears. Not wanting the stale bread or old tortillas I had at home, I made a quick stop to pick up a bagel for lunch tomorrow. I received so many gifts that I felt like a mother trying to beg her child to stay happy during a trip, except the child is me.

Pusch Ridge Wilderness

It’s literally a five minute drive to the trailhead from my house. I can see the mountains from my living room window. Pusch Ridge Wilderness is a beautiful, rugged mountain area in the Santa Catalina Mountain Range that runs along the northern boundary of Tucson. Spanning more than 7,000 feet in elevation, its ecological diversity is astonishing. It is also home to the southernmost ski resort in the United States.

This area has been my refuge since I moved to Tucson last September. I spent months on the flatter trails around the base building strength and stamina before slowly tackling longer, steeper hikes. And, although I had done a few three-mile hikes with a 20-pound backpack, this trip would push my upper limits of fitness. The first day would be eight miles and 2,100 feet of climbing and the second day would be about ten miles with less climbing and more descending. Trips like this used to be a piece of cake for me, but now they will be the most difficult trip in over a year.

Getting started

I dragged my feet and didn’t pack my backpack until 10:30. I had a lot of chores to do around the house, so I told myself I could go out at noon. It was a compromise I made with one of my excuses (you have a lot to do at home to go on a trip).

The parking lot was busy thanks to it being peak tourist and snowbird season. I took a less used trail towards the Bear Canyon trail and I made good time and politely asked slower hikers to pass. No one asked about my backpack, although it was definitely out of place on a trail like this. I reached the falls in less than two hours and descended to the base. I forced myself to take a break in the shade to drink water and eat gummy bears. But I wanted to go higher.

I left the tourists behind and began the 1500′ climb to the saddle. I didn’t see another person for the rest of the day. The trail wound further back and into the canyon. The saguaros disappeared around 4100′ and were replaced by oaks, agaves and cactus.

I crossed Bear Creek one last time and sat down to filter some water. While I had tested to make sure my filter worked at home, I didn’t realize what a bad state it was in. I had to apply a lot of pressure to get a fine stream of water to come out. For some reason, water was leaking from a place it shouldn’t be leaking. I tried tilting my filter so the dripping water wouldn’t get into the bottle, but I’m sure my water is not 100% filtered. Fortunately, it should be a fairly reliable source by this time and early in the year. There aren’t as many spoilsports on the trails in January.

overcome panic

As I approached the chair, I felt a familiar tightening on my throat. This is how my panic attacks started every night at the AZT, right before choosing a campsite. I knew I was a little worried about finding a place to camp, but I had a solid plan! I calmed down and continued walking. The tightness disappeared and I focused on the ease of my breath moving through me. mouth and even my lungs.

This was the main reason I was here. Sure, I’m physically preparing to travel longer and longer distances. But I’m also training my mind to be comfortable camping alone in the wild. After so many panic attacks about AZT in 2024, I knew I had to work on this for myself.

I can enjoy camping alone in the backcountry because I am a capable backpacker, grounded in the present and comfortable in my own skin. I only need to worry when there is a real threat. If a problem arises, I can fix it. I trust myself.

Today I decided to leave my house and set up my tent in an unknown place, knowing that I would be alone. I did it with the courage to overcome the anxieties I felt in the past and enjoy a fresh present moment full of joy and gratitude.

I did NOT have a panic attack. Not one. Sure, I had a couple of moments where I started to feel nervous, but I got through them. I was in my tent, alone, for the first time in almost two years, surrounded by the desert that I love. I could look down and see the twinkling lights of Tucson shining down at me. I felt like I was in the right place. As if this entire fall and winter had been building up to this point: a crescendo of perseverance that finally paid off.

The next day

In the morning, I saw the bright pink edges of a sunrise hiding behind a mountain peak and turned on the stove to make some coffee. Yes, this is what I love. A beautiful morning for me curled up in my tent with my coffee and my book. A wave of gratitude hits me again as I realize that this is one of the best rewards of sleeping under the stars surrounded only by nature.

I pack my bags and move on. Within moments, I was reconnecting with the AZT and yelling «Hello giiiirrrll!» I look at it when I see the familiar trail logo. And then another wave of nostalgia as I turn a corner and remember meeting a trail friend in his tent at this exact spot in 2024. A trail can hold so many memories.

I get back in my car and head home. It’s been less than 25 hours since I left my house yesterday. I would call this a mini adventure and laugh, as I think only hikers would call 18 miles “mini.”

Lasting change requires sustained attention and deliberate intention. It takes exposure, practice, failure, and repetitive successes to slowly break new ground. This trip is the first of these successes. It’s tangible evidence to draw on as I struggle to release the old emotional stories I’ve told myself. This is the first step in creating new patterns of thoughts, feelings and behaviors that resonate with my highest harmony.

I am a capable backpacker and love being alone in the backcountry.

To read more about my struggles with anxiety, check out my first blog post. And, to understand a little more about My Why, read the second post. You can also follow me on instagram. @sageonthetrail

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