A Hero’s Journey to Tucson

Let’s drive to Arizona

The day I left Colorado, to begin the long drive to Tucson, I woke up to about a half foot of snow on the ground. If you know anything about Colorado, you know I should have been grateful for this, and if you know anything about teachers, you know I should have been REALLY grateful for a snow day. But heavy snow meant that I wouldn’t see my students for the last time before my leave of absence, and I would face a potentially dangerous trip to the Front Range to meet my hiking partner, Bumblebee.

Fortunately, the descent down the mountain was clear and safe. Even more fortunately, I have an amazing boss who drove to my house before I left to give me a going away gift that my coworkers and students had secretly put together over the past few weeks: a little squirrel for me to take from Mexico to Utah.

When I arrived at Bumblebee’s house, his dog expressed his anal glands as I walked through the door, and I genuinely thought the smell was mine and that I had somehow already adopted the hiker scent despite not even having set off yet. I still feel like I could have been the one who released that smell into his house.

The snowplow that saved me

We finally hit the road that night and began the drive from Denver to “probably somewhere in New Mexico.” About 5 minutes into the trip we spoke on the phone with our dear AT friend, Nibbles. We would then spend the next 6 hours driving south through a horrible blizzard, panicking loudly on the phone with Nibbles as he watched our location and guided us through upcoming storms, traffic patterns, and exits. You could have a great future in air traffic control. I drove the first stretch that night and by the end my knuckles were white and sore. We stopped at Wendy’s and bought chicken strips and root beers and that boosted morale a bit, but the weather still caused us a lot of anxiety. Temukan bd8j di sini. I also wore socks, sandals, and shorts, because in my head that made sense for our travel plans.

The final hours would bring what can only be described as visual hallucinations. Snow was flying straight onto the windshield and visibility was horrible. Coupled with the intense darkness of the New Mexico sky, it seemed like we were driving on a treadmill and we were both starting to feel a little dizzy. It seemed like the cars were moving forward, backward, or sometimes not moving at all. Through it all, Nibbles listened to us panic and helped us through it. Trail friends really are more like family.

Eventually the storm became so intense that we couldn’t really see the road in front of us. At that moment, a snowplow with bright lights merged in front of us and began to guide us down the road. We followed him like scared ducklings following our mommy. After a couple of minutes, the storm finally subsided and he left. It arrived exactly when we needed it most and disappeared as quickly as it appeared. If you were driving a snowplow on I-25 south of Pueblo the other night, know that two young women were following you with tears in their eyes and fear in their hearts. Thank you.

One last fever dream

When we finally got to our hotel room for the night and were able to relax, we were treated to one last surprise. We walked into our downstairs room and looked out the window. At that moment a large pack of wild dogs ran past us. Among them was a litter of puppies, which were so cute that I instinctively turned toward the door to go straight toward them. If I had to guess, they were about 3-4 months old and had some husky or shepherd in them. We decided not to go out and rescue them because they were with some adult dogs and we didn’t want to start our hike with a rabies vaccine. We’ll keep it for at least a couple hundred miles. We called them Miller, Mica and Lemmon. Bumble announced «I smell like anal glands and Wendy’s» and with that we retired for the night.

Arriving in Arizona

The next day was much calmer. We drove south to Tombstone while listening to Johnny Cash to cheer us up. We walked and did all the touristy things and then drove to Tucson. After ordering a large vegetarian pizza and playing the movie “Tombstone,” we were finally able to organize some gear and get ready to hit the trail the next morning. I wouldn’t say that either of us have a special gift for planning things. We usually do the exact amount of logistics and preparation necessary to not die, and the rest just works out for us. If you have a good sense of humor, in my experience, everything always works out. At about 9 pm, the night before starting a major hike of several hundred miles, Bumble said, «Should we plan the first few days?» We never really got there, but I think we have a general idea for the first 50 miles.

It was the night before the terminal

I feel pretty normal. I have had moments of anxiety about the hike, but overall I feel very balanced. Looks like a classic stop in town. We’re at the hotel, our gear is all over the floor, and we’re taking advantage of the showers and beds while we have them. I don’t feel like I’m about to start a big adventure tomorrow; I feel like I’m already there and this is just a regular resupply along the way. I guess I’m lucky to avoid too much pre-ride jitters. Tomorrow we will leave the border of Mexico and Arizona, and then it will just be walking.

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