Worst Case Scenario

Let's say we're just tra-la-la-la-la, walking down the trail, and suddenly the rare desert Sasquatch jumps out from behind a saguaro, and threatens to eat us alive. Well, that's why I have my mommy with me, carrying a loaded .38.

In this post, I'll talk about the dangers we could possibly face while hiking through Arizona.

#1: Water

Thankfully, many trails are created due to the location of water in a desert, whether it be cattle tanks, natural springs, or creeks and rivers - some of which only appear briefly after rain. However, the creation of the Arizona Trail came with the difficulty of linking all these trails together. Some sections are very dry. If for some crazy reason, we ran out of water, there are ways to avoid withering away to a bag of bones.

First off, we have our maps which list water sources along with a reliability rating. We have had a very dry winter, but there has been snow and rain recently that we are hoping increases the reliability factor.

Secondly, enough people have done this trail to know about some water sources NOT listed in the guidebook. They may be a little ways off the path, but where there's water, there's life. Even if the water looks like this...

Filter it enough times, and although it still may taste like algae, it's usually pretty clear and without parasites swimming around in it. I once drank black stagnant water and just popped a few purification tablets in it. It tasted amazing.

I also know how to look for water by watching what the land and plants do. Our best bets are lower land, more cottonwoods, and creekbeds with "rock pockets" - indents in large boulders that hold water for long periods of time until they evaporate.

Regardless, we have done the research and know which areas are dryer than others, and we both have the capacity to carry 7 liters of fluid (plus whatever we can fit into our stomachs at one sitting). We'll simply fill up at one water source, assuming it might be 20 miles until the next one.

#2: The Creepy Crawlies

I'm very fascinated by the variety of insect and reptile species we have in Arizona. I don't think either my mother or I have any kind of phobia toward anything venomous, but our respect for those creatures is high. If bit by a brown recluse or black widow spider, the toxins can cause damage at the affected area along with neurological, respiratory, and cardiac effects.

The goal for treating this kind of experience would be the same as if bitten by a rattlesnake. This week, I talked briefly with my old survival teacher, Greg Guthrie, from Chandler-Gilbert Community College (though the terrific class is now at Maricopa Community College), picking his brain regarding what to do if bitten by something nasty. I knew the first two steps: 1) get out of more danger (these animals sting/bite/inject when about to eat, so they often follow what they've attacked), 2) get to a place where you can care for yourself...like not sitting in the direct sun in 100 degree weather... Then he added, 3) don't elevate the bite; put a filleted prickly pear on the bite after cleaning it, 4) drink lots of water to try and dilute the toxins, and take a Benadryl to help with any additional reactions, 5) stay calm and wait for help if any is coming. If no help is coming, then I'd probably just try to put myself in a meditative state and reduce my energy output, drinking as much as I could spare. Since my mom and I will be together with a GPS, which we'll use in an emergency to call in the Calvary, the chances of anything really serious happening due to insects or reptiles is very low.

#3: The Furry Non-Friends

There are black bears and mountain lions, javelina and wolves. They all avoid humans unless desperate or threatened. We'll make noise as we hike, and we store our food in scent-proof bags, hanging it away from our tent at night if possible. The bigger threats come in much smaller packages. Those dang squirrels and mice will eat through anything!

But if the noises aren't enough, and we physically encounter a bear or mountain lion, the fight is on. Black bears don't care if you play dead, they'll eat you. You fight with all your might against them, but only if they've begun to attack. Before that, you don't run if you see one. You make yourself look big with your arms and speak with a calm loud voice. I'd probably tell it to please not eat my last chocolate bar. You can then back up slowly without turning your back. If it attacks, I hope my mom can aim well. I've heard when attacked by a mountain lion, you're supposed to try and roll over and over. That it frustrates their grip on you. Who knows. I just hope we aren't stalked and surprised. I hate surprises.

#4: The Humans

If you think the desert is void of people, just check out the death map from the Humane Borders here. Terrifying notion of how many people are dying in Southern Arizona. Again, this is why we have one armed hiker, and one hippy hiker that loves everyone and knows how to deescalate a situation, lol!

#5: Getting Lost

Between paper maps, compass, our GPS, and common sense, I think it will be hard to get truly lost. I'm sure there will be times when we take a wrong turn, and say, "Wait a minute...", but I think it will be hard to lose our way completely. I've been out in the wilderness long enough to know how to stay on track.

I think the ultimate worst case scenario would be if something happened to my mom and I felt like it was my fault for getting her into this mess, never forgiving myself. Or if something happened to me and she thought she was supposed to protect me or something and never forgiving herself. That would be the worst. But I think we are prepared and ready and the level of fears we have are healthy and realistic. Our level of excitement and anticipation, however, is way overboard. 🤣