Release of roads to Arizona, found an accident term. This is how my azt starts.

It started in Canada.

Before leaving to walk along the Arizona path, I spent July and August working as a fruit coach in British Columbia. We call the place «Peaches», probably because the word was printed in large letters on a sign nailed to the wall.

While I was there, I spent my free time looking for flight combinations, trying to discover the most sensible way to start my walk. I never imagined that I would end up leading Arizona. But since we were already planning to buy a car to explore more from Canada, we think: Why not go further?

Then we did it.

We bought a car, we built an extended bed and table, from which I am especially proud because I did it myself and obtained many compliments, and threw some less impressive curtains.

Then we headed south.

The poor and ancient Dodge Caravan had spent his previous life leading older people as part of a dissemination program in Lake Country, BC. I had probably ever gone further than the next city. And then, suddenly, I was rolling in Montana, Wyoming, Colorado, Utah and, finally, Arizona.

Terminals …

A couple of days ago, we visited Statelline Campground and played the northern terminal of Azt. Due to the recent fire of Dragon Bravo, and the closures that followed, we decided to start our walk from the southern edge of the Grand Canyon, about 100 miles south of the terminal. Then, we played the monument, we explored a nearby cannon, we went up again to our former dodge and we went to park it in Flagstaff.

The curious thing about that term is that I didn’t even know I was there until a day before. As we did not start in the term, he had not investigated his exact location and assumed that we could pass it later. We were in Statelline Campground to walk through the cannon, so discovering that the term was also a pleasant surprise. And another unexpected big thing while there is there? I have to shake hands with a man who had built the northern terminal of the Pacific Crest Trail. I was camping in the same camp. Encounters like that are one of my favorite parts of up to the level: knowing the people who support these paths, either keeping the roads, acting as angels of trails, storing water or doing the innumerable things behind the scene that make hiking so special.

Terminuses are strangely important for hikers. They are markers of time, progress and achievements. That wooden, stone or metal monument becomes its target for months. In the end, it is not the term that really matters, it is all that happens in the middle. You may not even reach one, and that will not make your walk or your achievements less significant.

Even so, the terminals are probably the most photographed structures on each long distance path, so it helps when someone like Loren strives to make them impressive. Every season, about five thousand to hikers sit, stop, bow and hang from them, and year after year, they stay strong, waiting to witness the beginning or end of someone’s adventure.

This is my third. This time I don’t start alone.

This time, I am not so afraid of bears and rivers (although Azt is not known for anything like that), still so scared to leave my store in the middle of the night to urinate and still completely terrified of being the highest thing when a lightning hits (he has been there, no thanks).

We’ll see how this time goes.

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