The Final Countdown: Superstition Mountains (my last test hike before jumping onto the PCT)

It’s hard to believe I’ll be embarking on my Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) hike in less than a month. Starting in March, I will embark on a six-month trip, from Mexico to Canada. God only knows why I find this self-torture so attractive. I’ve come to accept the idea that most hikers, like me, may have a few screws missing. Remember, admitting you have a problem is the first step.

If you’re also looking for a confidence boost before tackling the PCT, or just a cheap laugh, I’ve got it. I just got my butt kicked by the Superstition Mountains on a three-day backpacking trip, and I’m here to tell you all about it.

It was a much-needed test cruise before I head out on my big adventure next month. I mean, I had to test my gear, my skills, and my questionable life choices one last time. The Superstitions, as they are affectionately known, are a strange bunch. One moment I was trudging through a cactus-ridden desert and the next I was climbing a rock face with a prayer on my lips. It’s like they took all the leftover terrain from other mountain ranges and crushed it into a glorious mess.

Day one: don’t forget your lunch

The first day was to get oriented. I started out strong, playing my pre-hike songs and feeling like a total boss. That is, until I realized I had forgotten to pack my lunch. Who does that?! Luckily, I had some emergency Clif Bars stashed away (don’t judge). I mean, what’s a little forgetfulness when you’re about to tackle the PCT, right? The real challenge was navigating the endless sea of ​​cholla cacti—those spiky little shoots are like ninjas of the desert.

As I set up camp that first night, the desert sunset hit me like a ton of bricks. I’ve seen a few sunsets while on the trail, but there’s something about the way the light plays off the rock outcroppings and cactus arms that blows me away. I sat there, eating a late lunch (those Clif Bars), feeling pretty small and grateful for this crazy thing called hiking.

Day Two: Trail Treasure (Enjoy the little things)

The next day was all about “character building.” That’s what I call it when you’re sweating buckets, cursing the sun, and wondering why you thought walking long miles in the desert heat was a good idea. However, the views were incredible. I can’t complain about that. I reached the top of Miner’s Summit, where a pretty little cairn and a broken piece of pottery awaited me. The ceramic was a nice touch. It felt like the desert was saying, «Hey, good job, human. Here’s a piece of ancient civilization to make you feel better.» Moments like these are what I call “trail treasure,” a type of trail magic. It’s best to enjoy the little things, even when the trip sucks.

As the day progressed, I started to pick up speed (or so I thought). That’s when I saw a rattlesnake warming up on a rock and my «stride» turned into a flurry of awkward hops. Note to self: desert hikes = lots of snake checks. I mean, I’ve seen snakes on the road before, but there’s something about being in the Superstitions that makes you feel like you’re invading their territory. In reality, he was doing just that.

Day three: the final push

By the third day, I felt like a seasoned pro (or maybe just old and slow). The final push to the trailhead was tough, but those last few miles were filled with some of my favorite pastimes: walking along the trail while eating the rest of my snacks and celebrating the fact that there was no one around to judge me for giggling like a hyena with every step. Lihat juga hgtgdfgdtr19. I mean, if you’re not laughing at yourself along the way, are you really walking?

What did I learn?

As I limped back to the trailhead, sweaty and covered in dust, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment. I had survived the Superstition Mountains and was ready to take on the PCT.

So what did I learn from this glorious training camp?

• My gear is solid (I thank Hyperlite and Durston for keeping me dry and comfortable).
• I still have some legs left to walk (but don’t ask me to run).
• Hike through the desert = hydrate or die trying.
• And most importantly, if you can’t laugh at yourself along the way, you’re going to have a bad time.

All that’s left for me is to repack my food (not forgetting my lunch), tune up my playlist, and mentally prepare myself for 2,650 miles of trail. Bring on the PCT!

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