Day 1: 3.18
My shuttle, Finding True North, dropped me and 4 other hikers at Montezuma’s Pass just before 07:30. The owner rescheduled our departure for 2 hours early as a record heat wave was about to begin. I was glad I started earlier.
To start the AZT, you must hike from the pass south to the border, which is about 1.7 miles away. Once at the border, you can slip between the barbed wire fences to stand on (or hug in my case) Monument 102, which is the official end of the trail in the south. And then you turn around and hike the 1.7 miles back to the parking lot and then continue north over Miller Peak, which is the highest peak in the Huachuca Mountain Range. The trail skirts the peak and reaches 9090′. It’s a difficult day of climbing with over 4,000 feet of elevation gain.
I said my “Happy Trails” to my fellow shuttlers and took off. Feeling both the excitement and nervousness of starting a hike, I quickly walked down the trail…until I came to a ramada and knew I had gone the wrong way! There is a junction only 500′ from the trail and I didn’t see it. I got caught up in the moment and hiked the 0.3 kilometer, 200 foot climb to the overlook. I was here ten days ago and walked (without detours) to the border and back with my partner. This was my third time here. How could I have made such a stupid mistake?
As soon as I realized my mistake, my first reaction was to get angry at myself for being so careless. Anger is such an easy emotion to slip into. Then I felt ashamed and ashamed. What would my fellow shuttle passengers think of me after seeing me make such a stupid mistake? Obviously they were going to think I was a terrible hiker. I was very nervous about running into them later on the trail for fear that they would make fun of me. Shame is another slippery emotion for me.
None of that happened! We passed each other greeting each other and wishing each other the best. As Jason walked past me, he asked if I enjoyed the view from there. I soon calmed down and reflected. What did this situation teach me? Was he trying to remind me to slow down and be present for the new moments of this second walk? Were you telling me to be careful because not everything will be the same as in 2024? Or was it a lesson to accept that I made a mistake and move on without being so hard on myself?
«Did you enjoy the view from up there?» Wait… no, I didn’t! I didn’t even look at the view. I got angry and turned around immediately. I climbed 200′ to an overlook and didn’t even look because I was angry. What if I had stopped, taken a deep breath, and thought about the situation with a rational mind instead of an emotional one? What if I opened my heart to the gift before me and enjoyed the view for a few moments?
Taking the wrong turn today was a gift of the trail and I can use it to grow. Today is the New Moon, the perfect time for new adventures and freeing myself from what no longer serves me. There was no better day to start this hike than the new moon.
Day 2: 3.19
The record heat wave will intensify today. I tried to get going early but didn’t start the trail until 5:55am. It was a glorious 48* and the sun didn’t touch me until I had covered almost 4 miles. As soon as the sun rose, the temperature immediately rose. By 10am, I was struggling to make the 1000 foot climb, stopping at every shady spot that crossed the trail. At the top I found a log to sit in the shade and cool off. I had another 600 feet to climb over the next few miles and I wanted to do it before the afternoon heat hit. At the top, I frantically looked for a shade where I could lie down. I put down my tyvek, ripped off my hat and shirt, and drank some water. It took me a while to calm down. It was 86* out. It was too hot. I lay in the shade for 45 minutes and then continued. The sun became less intense at 4 in the afternoon and little by little it cooled down. I walked until 6:30 pm when I found a clear camping spot between a pile of cow poop and a block of salt. I was tempted to lick it to restore some of the salts I sweated out today, but instead I pulled out a side of knorr paste.
I’m usually pretty risky with my water. I hate carrying too much. My strategy is to drink a lot at a water source, bring a little less than the bare minimum, and repeat. It’s too risky right now. I almost always carry 2 to 3 liters, even if there is possibly a water source 8 miles away. What happens if the fountain is dry? Water flows very differently this year than in 2024. And it’s simply too hot to risk running out of water.
I saw the most beautiful sunset followed by a small moon setting behind the mountains 45 minutes later. The sky is still orange and the band of silver light descends towards the horizon.
Day 3: 3.20
Today I started hiking at 5:20 and enjoyed the cool, dark trail. I was trying to cover the 13.5 miles to the highway leading to Patagonia before noon to avoid the high 90-degree temperatures. It was more of the same: frequent breaks in the shade and drinking as much water as I could.
I was less than 2 miles down the road, when out of nowhere, my audiobook began describing the main character witnessing cardiac arrest and the CPR and defibrillation used to bring the man back to life. Ugly, instant sobs. Literally crying on the way. As a nurse, I am taught to compartmentalize my feelings and get the job done. There is no room for feelings when you need to focus completely on the protocols that need to be done to save lives. To count compressions, keep track of the minutes between pulse checks, shocks, and epi injections. You disconnect from the human being under your hands and focus on the steps. Only after your turn can you take the time to put the pieces together and cry.
I find that the threshold between baseline and extreme emotion thins while I’m on the trail. I can cry so easily from joy and sadness. I love that about the path: how there is time and space to fully feel whatever there is to feel. And there are no limits to what you’re allowed to do: I can sing and dance or sit and cry. I can analyze my past or imagine an incredible future. I can completely zone out watching the plants as they walk past me or listening to my footsteps on the crunchy floor.
While I’m in Patagonia, I have the best cold cucumber and avocado soup I’ve ever had (the only one I’ve ever had). I head to TerraSol and find other hikers to hang out with. I enjoy your company and make some new friends. That night I went to the local bar and drank some local wine while listening to a local musician. I also love that thing about the trail: finding new friends and immersing myself in whatever small town I find myself in.
Water sources I have drunk from
Creatures seen in the last 2.5 days and 52.5 miles
10 hikers/backpackers, 2 tourists in the parking lot, 2 border patrol trucks, 1 runner with her dog, 2 coyotes, 13 lizards, 1 squirrel, 2 deer, 6 hares and 22 cows. The ocotillos have buds with some flowers and I saw 1 prickly pear with a giant pink flower. Lots of yellow wildflowers and some purple ones.
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