Pine to Superior. All the mountains.

Statistics:

Miles: 338.6- 495.3

Days: 15- 22

The Mazatzal Mountains.

“The Mazzies will kick your ass,” the ladies tell us, heading north, over the next Mazatzal mountain range. I don’t even doubt them: all the climbs kick my butt.

The first day we walked 22.1 milesthe last six of which are uphill. At the end I rest and put on some music. I usually prefer to walk in silence, occasionally listening to an audiobook, but when I need to take my thoughts away from the suffering of an uphill climb, that’s when I need music.

I listen to the soundtrack of one of my favorite movies, The hunt for the wild people By Taika Waititi. If you’ve never seen it, do it, it’s fantastic. There’s this song, «Skux Life,» with lyrics that say:

«Majestic

And we are the wildest.

Skux life.

Majestic.

And we’ll be on the run forever.

The life of the skux.

I imagine a drone shot getting closer and closer to me, until I’m a small dot and everything around me is just green hills. Nothing but green. My little problems uphill, far away, also come down to a point. I feel better. The song helps.

The peaks are now below us, shaded by the orange sun that covers them, a rich dark green and blue. They extend further and further, until they disappear in the fog, covering the horizon like a transparent white blanket, from which only the tips stand out.

They say your eye can see about 100 miles, even on a mountain. I’m going to walk there, beyond these blue-green mountains, beyond the fog and the peaks that jut out of it. Every time I stand on a mountain and look into the distance, it amazes me. I never thought I could walk so far. However, each time I walk even further.

Lightning again?

We pitched our tent on a saddle, just below the top of the climb, and slept with the setting sun. Flashes wake us up at 04:30. I stick my head out. Lightning flashes here and there; It’s hard to say exactly where. No thunder. Our alarm is set for an hour, but we won’t fall asleep anyway, so we walk. It’s dark but warm. Little white moths flutter around my headlamp and I move like the sleepy ghost of a moth whisperer among the dark, bowing mountains, while distant lightning flashes in the night sky.

It starts to rain, which reminds me that I’m actually thirsty. The scratch marks on my legs start to itch a little when they’re wet.

It soon clears up and we hit the highway, where Trail Angel Scott picks us up and takes us to Tonto Basin, where Scott and Becky have this garden paradise, bunnies hopping around, birds and lizards visiting us, pomegranates thriving and cracking.

How many churches!

We walked to resupply food and left Kez’s phone charging. It’s easy to find a spot, right behind the church. Well… it gets dark. We find a church, we go to the right, then to the left. It doesn’t look like what it’s supposed to be. We keep track. I still feel like we were never there. But it’s right behind the church, how come we can’t find it?! Finally, I call Becky using my international phone number to ask for the address. Turns out we went after the wrong church. The one on the right is a little lower. Scott comes out onto the street near the right church with a hand torch to greet us. I don’t think I have ever felt more lost among the many houses of God.

The four peaks

Four Peaks kicks your ass no less than the Mazatzals. It is full of brambles and badly devastated by the recent rains. A couple of miles later, I get nervous, as always, without warning, just as I get close to the snake warming itself in a bush. A little later I see a bald eagle.

This is what got me the name of my route on the PCT. Pinion. Crazy about those pine trees.

The Tonto Basin marks approximately the Edge of the Sonoran Desert for AZT Hikers. This is where the elevation begins to decrease, the ponderosa pines are no longer present, and the saguaro cacti begin to appear. At dawn we walked through entire forests of these limbed giants. I’ve never been close to one before, and suddenly I’m surrounded by tall, prickly figures.

The hunting season has begun, so we meet more and more hunters. “Have you seen any deer today?” is the common question. “No,” is the common response. We rarely see more than one or two. «You?» «Just a couple. There are more people than deer.» You’re right: We’ve definitely seen more hunters speeding around in their little UTVs, kicking up dust and most likely alarming the wildlife world.

Superstitions

roosevelt

After ice cream and coffee at rooseveltthe town where a dam was built in 1911 (and where former President Theodore Roosevelt came to dedicate it), we went up to the mountains of superstition. The name carries many legends. The Western Apaches called the mountains “The House of the God of Thunder”and believed that the peaks housed powerful spirits.

In the late 19th century, Jacob Waltz, a German immigrant called «The Dutchman,» supposedly found a gold mine in the area. He kept the location a secret and it was never found. Apparently, quite a few people have disappeared or died mysteriously in these hills, whether searching for gold or simply traversing the Thunder God Mountains.

Heroes of the trail

We went up in peace, undisturbed. Recent storms have washed away much of the trail. Cottonwood Canyon looks like a giant river runs through it, smashing trees, rocks and walls. We met two teams working to restore the trail: one from the Forest Service and one volunteer. Thanks to them, the path is much easier to follow: they clear debris, build stairs and place milestones. Between the crews, the road is not maintained and the difference is stark. If you didn’t know how to walk along the stream bed, you would get lost among rocks and broken branches.

The team of volunteers sitting on the steps they have just climbed on what was once just the edge of a steep cliff. True heroes of the trail!

We climb and climb, and the sun sets, painting the peaks orange and pink. Tomorrow is city day. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, but somehow we routinely walk 22 miles instead of 20so our plan to camp seven miles before the city becomes: «Why not hike 25 miles tomorrow and have a full day off in the city the next day?» Well, why say no to that?

It’s hot. It is very feasible to cover twenty-five miles in the spring or summer, but in the fall, when the days are short, you have to finish by 6 pm. It is a very tight deadline. To quote a character from the office: «Somehow I manage.» we arrived Superior at 6 pm Trail Angel MJ picks us up and takes us beyond the Apache Leap Cliffssharing his legend. Tomorrow we rest.

Things I learned along the way.

I decided to add this part to the end of my blog posts because I like to learn about the places I walk. I’m not a local, so if you notice I misunderstood or missed something, feel free to point it out in the comments.

1. Can you tell the age of the Saguaro by looking at it? Rapproximately. They usually do not grow limbs until they 50-70 years. Scientists also use ribs and horizontal growth bands, although they are less reliable than tree rings. Saguaros can measure up 200 years and they are protected by federal law: you cannot cut, move, or damage them without risking fines or jail time.

2. Legend of the Apache jump. Legend has it that in the 1870s, during conflicts with the American army, a group of Western Apache Warriors He was chased to the cliffs of Apache Leap. With the army cutting off their escape and a steep drop on the other side, the Apaches opted to jump off cliffs instead of giving up.

Those cliffs are the Apache Leap.

3. The word “Fool” comes from the Spanish word meaning «crazy» or «wild», probably applied to local Apache groups.

4. Word «Apache» comes from the word Zuni (a Native American tribe from western New Mexico) “Apachu.”meaning «enemy» or «stranger.» The Spanish adopted it as “Apache” and English speakers did the same. The Apache groups were not initially called that: they were Dinner, Dinel, – but today most officially use “Apache” in their tribal names.