AZT southern terminal. Border Day with Mexico.

Leaving Patagonia.

The last stretch to the border passed in the blink of an eye.

Bye bye…

We had our final breakfast of the trail at Hangout Cafe in Patagonia. Bottomless coffee is exactly how I like to start my mornings. And they have a vegan breakfast, not just vegetarian, vegan! There we met two other hikers and ended up having a long talk over breakfast. We finally remember that we have 30 kilometers to go, so we gather our things and head out.

There was one person we started with on the same day: Thunderbird. We saw it on the way to Tip Off at the Grand Canyon. Then we saw him again. And again. We climbed extra peaks, we took extra zero days at random, and we still kept meeting. A couple of times Thunderbird tried to say goodbye, but we would see him the next day. Or the next mile. In the end we stopped saying goodbye.

Until that night somewhere between Cueva Colosal and Patagonia, when we decided to take a longer break during the heat and walk further into the darkness. We passed Thunderbird setting up camp and I simply said “good night,” knowing we would see him the next day, but he decided to slow down and we arrived in Patagonia a day before him. When it was necessary to say goodbye, we didn’t say anything, and that was a little sad.

We left the cafe and got into our vehicle. I look ahead and there he is, walking with a coffee in his hand. Of course we had to run into Thunderbird!

Day 1.

We head out of town and my tired, arthritic knee doesn’t want to cooperate today, so we half limp, barely noticing the beauty until the sun starts to set and we reach the grasslands. All those golden grasses swaying in the fields of gold.

As the sun sets we arrive Canelo Pass trailhead and set up camp. FarOut’s comments warn about drones at night and border patrols waking people up, but none of that happens. Instead, someone parks on the road below the trailhead and blasts the TV so loud my deaf cat could probably hear it in Lithuania. I have to say, I’ve never had to fall asleep to the sounds of the NFL on the road before. I guess it’s not the worst thing to do to fall asleep.

Day 2.

The next day we slowly climbed towards the base of Miller Peak. The swelling in my knee seems to have moved from my knee to my shin, making my leg look like a weird bleeding sausage, but it doesn’t hurt any more than it has in the last ten years, so I take some preventative ibuprofen and start walking uphill. As much as I would love to take a helicopter ride over Arizona, I will only accept one from the terminal.

The day passes quickly. There is a lot of water in this last stretch, so there is no need to worry, just walk and enjoy the views. Or mentally put soft drinks in the cooler of your car.

We camped in a simple but very comfortable place halfway up the climb. It’s a cold night, but what matters is the last cold night.

Miller Peak and all plants

The morning begins with curves until we reach the first peak, where the ponderosa pines grow. It’s nice to see them again. We started with the ponderosa pines and are finishing with them.

We’ve been chasing fall since we left Canada. Not on purpose, but as we moved south, we somehow continued to extend our fall season. We left BC just as the leaves and larch trees were starting to turn yellow. When we drove to Colorado, the leaves had changed there too. Arizona greeted us with the heat and greenery of summer, but when we hiked up to Humphreys Peak near Flagstaff, the aspen trees were all perfectly golden. Then we saw them again on Mount Lemmon. The aspens were also here on Miller Peak, only now they had finally dropped their golden leaves, as if concluding our long seasonal chase.

Autumn, like our walk, had come to an end.

«It’s like we’re seeing each plant for the last time,» Kez says, and it’s true. On the way down, we seem to notice every plant we’ve passed through the state.

Border with Mexico

Soon we see the wall from above: that gigantic dividing line. The terrain appears the same on both sides. The San Pedro River and the trees along it cross the border and continue south. Nature doesn’t care about our imaginary lines.

We begin to descend the last 3 kilometers to the border and the wall disappears. Turns out it’s not finished on that section yet. We soon see the term. The wall reappears around the corner. There’s a little bit at the end and the rest is barbed wire. Recently, they also added concertina wire, preventing you from even touching the marker that ends your walk. It’s right in front of him. But that doesn’t matter. We extended our trekking poles to their full extent, marked the marker with them, and then sat in the shade of the wall to eat the celebratory orange I brought from Patagonia.

That’s it: After 39 days, we hiked 700 miles of the Arizona Trail, from the South Rim of the Grand Canyon to the Mexican border.

I didn’t have any revelations or great discoveries. They just reminded me once again that people are kind, the world is beautiful, and the mind needs a little space to learn.

And that I really like showers and coffee.

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