Trail Miles: 34.9
Daily Miles: 11.8
Starting Elevation: 5193
Camp Elevation: 5329
We sleep well, arising to a beautiful morning on the creek. We get a late start (which we later regret), and see that Ryman and the bikepacker are already gone. We will follow those bike tracks most of the day.
Just before arriving at Parker Creek last night, we finished Passage 1, and today are hiking Passage 2. Not a lot of inspiration in these hills...they are hot and dry. Every part of me is tired, tender, and in pain. But no one has yelled, "We're all going to die!", so I take that as a good sign. I'm taping my feet, but am pretty footsore and tired by the end of the day.
We camp at the end of Passage 2, and will begin Passage 3 in the morning. I'm too tired to eat, but force myself to eat something, remembering that food is fuel.
On a brighter note, I am no longer suffering from the insomnia that has plagued me the last few months.
Tuesday, March 20, 2018
Monday, March 19, 2018
Thursday, March 15th (McKenna)
Day 2: Woke up in a cloud. Literally. Trees dropped the collected condensation on our tent, but it wasnt raining. Terribly windy still. Packed up before dawn, and tried to find some sunshine lower down. Down, down, down. Painful. Met a few people on the trail. Then finally at the bottom, a beautiful, easy canyon trail. Yay!
A few hills, then made it to our Parker Creek campsite as the sun was setting. Super tired.
Thursday, March 15 (Heidi)
Trail Miles: 23.1
Daily Miles: 15
Starting Elevation: 8564
Camp Elevation: 5193
We give up on our night at about 0600, and pack everything up in a heavy foggy mist. Everything has stayed dry, except for the tent, which gets stuffed wet into its sack. We use our pack covers and McKenna wears her poncho. My puffy coat is adequate for keeping me warm and dry since it's not a downpour. We discover we're actually in a cloud, and after a couple miles we break out into the sunshine and stop for breakfast, readjust boots, and take pack covers off, readying ourselves for a long descent off Miller Peak.
The climb down is an almost 12 mile descent, with little relief in the way of level or even uphill, but I eventually realize I have more energy, so we must be below 7000 feet. My knees and shins are not happy, but everything holds together, which is all I ask.
Lunchbreak is sitting among the pines on the side of the trail to have yummy PB&J, a huge pick-me- up as far as energy.
After a long day with sore feet, we are only a couple miles from Parker Creek, our destination for tonight, when we are overtaken by Ryman who is also planning on camping at Parker. We learn he left the Mexican border at 9:00 this morning (!), covering the distance it had taken us two entire days to travel. He's trying to get to Patagonia by tomorrow to meet up with friends who are waiting for him.
We arrive at Parker Creek to find him already set up, as well as a bikepacker, who tells us there's plenty of water and plenty of sites. And there are. We set up down stream and after a quick meal of Thai curry chicken (yes, as good as it sounds) we settle in for a really good night's sleep, to the soft lullaby of the creek nearby.
Daily Miles: 15
Starting Elevation: 8564
Camp Elevation: 5193
We give up on our night at about 0600, and pack everything up in a heavy foggy mist. Everything has stayed dry, except for the tent, which gets stuffed wet into its sack. We use our pack covers and McKenna wears her poncho. My puffy coat is adequate for keeping me warm and dry since it's not a downpour. We discover we're actually in a cloud, and after a couple miles we break out into the sunshine and stop for breakfast, readjust boots, and take pack covers off, readying ourselves for a long descent off Miller Peak.
The climb down is an almost 12 mile descent, with little relief in the way of level or even uphill, but I eventually realize I have more energy, so we must be below 7000 feet. My knees and shins are not happy, but everything holds together, which is all I ask.
Lunchbreak is sitting among the pines on the side of the trail to have yummy PB&J, a huge pick-me- up as far as energy.
After a long day with sore feet, we are only a couple miles from Parker Creek, our destination for tonight, when we are overtaken by Ryman who is also planning on camping at Parker. We learn he left the Mexican border at 9:00 this morning (!), covering the distance it had taken us two entire days to travel. He's trying to get to Patagonia by tomorrow to meet up with friends who are waiting for him.
We arrive at Parker Creek to find him already set up, as well as a bikepacker, who tells us there's plenty of water and plenty of sites. And there are. We set up down stream and after a quick meal of Thai curry chicken (yes, as good as it sounds) we settle in for a really good night's sleep, to the soft lullaby of the creek nearby.
Sunday, March 18, 2018
Wednesday, March 14th (McKenna)
My favorite time to start any hike is before dawn. We arrived at the Coronado Memorial Overlook Trailhead just as the stars began to fade. We forced ourselves to eat some muffins and bananas despite the urge to vomit instead.
My incredibly supportive and loving boyfriend, hereto referred to as Wild Man, had driven Heidi and I down to Sierra Vista and would hike his second trip down to the border with us. I say "down" because it's a 500ft elevation loss over 1.5 miles just to reach the starting point on the AZT. Wild Man had hiked the full AZT by himself in 2015. He'd warned us of the rough day ahead, but schwoo-eee! We were in for it.
At the bottom of the United States of America, we took the obligatory oblisk photo.
And then we climbed. And climbed. And climbed.
We did take a few breaks...
And that was the last of my pictures for the day because we just had to put one foot in front of the other. At the top of the sky, we ran out of land to climb and we went down for a bit until we reached a spring piped into a cast iron bathtub.
I'd love to say we then set up camp and rested, because that IS where we camped, but instead, I took us on an unintentional side trip. Only an additional .5 miles, but Heidi wasn't happy about it, lol! We learned to check the GPS at every non-marked junction.
We made it back, set up camp, built a small fire and worried we would burn the whole mountain down with the wind.
Eventually we got to bed. At 10pm, we woke to what we thought was a Border Patrol helicopter hovering overhead. They kept their spotlight on our tent for a while and kept coming back, checking the mountainside. We learned later that it was actually Search and Rescue looking for a lost hiker. They found him, but because of the wind, they could only throw down some gear for the night to him. He made it out the next day.
Glad it wasn't us, and it also made us feel SO tough. We made our first major climb with success!!
My incredibly supportive and loving boyfriend, hereto referred to as Wild Man, had driven Heidi and I down to Sierra Vista and would hike his second trip down to the border with us. I say "down" because it's a 500ft elevation loss over 1.5 miles just to reach the starting point on the AZT. Wild Man had hiked the full AZT by himself in 2015. He'd warned us of the rough day ahead, but schwoo-eee! We were in for it.
At the bottom of the United States of America, we took the obligatory oblisk photo.
We did take a few breaks...
I'd love to say we then set up camp and rested, because that IS where we camped, but instead, I took us on an unintentional side trip. Only an additional .5 miles, but Heidi wasn't happy about it, lol! We learned to check the GPS at every non-marked junction.
We made it back, set up camp, built a small fire and worried we would burn the whole mountain down with the wind.
Eventually we got to bed. At 10pm, we woke to what we thought was a Border Patrol helicopter hovering overhead. They kept their spotlight on our tent for a while and kept coming back, checking the mountainside. We learned later that it was actually Search and Rescue looking for a lost hiker. They found him, but because of the wind, they could only throw down some gear for the night to him. He made it out the next day.
Glad it wasn't us, and it also made us feel SO tough. We made our first major climb with success!!
Wednesday, March 14 (Heidi)
Miles: 8.1
Starting elevation 5908
Camp Elevation 8564
Wednesday morning arrives bright and early... Well, early because we leave our hotel parking lot in Sierra Vista in the dark at 0445. We arrive at the Coronado National Monument parking lot just as the promise of dawn is beginning to lighten the eastern horizon.
A quick breakfast of orange and cranberry muffins and a banana, with lots of water to begin hydrating, and there's enough light to begin the 1.8 mile descent to the Mexican border for the official start of The Hike. Mckenna carries her pack, but I elect to "slack pack" since we have to turn around and come back to the parking lot. I know it's going to be a hard day, so I'm not going to make it any tougher on myself.
And then, with very little fanfare, it begins. Once we get to the 7500 foot elevation, I have no energy. I'm hiking through jello. Or my legs ARE Jello. We take lots of breaks, McKenna has me lead and set the pace.
We enjoy a tuna sandwich at about mile 5. By the time we get to Bathtub Springs, almost at the top of Miller Peak, the wind is terrible. Hard and cold. We had planned to try and go further, but are afraid the wind will be even worse further up. Plus, I'm wiped out, so we set up camp and have spaghetti for dinner. I'm too tired too eat, but try to force myself. Food is fuel.
The wind is horrible all night, with every gust feeling like it's going to blow our little tent off the mountain. And then the helicopter with spotlights lights up our tent around 10:30, and we have no idea what's going on. At 2:00 it starts raining and its in the mid 30's. We stay warm and dry all night, but get no sleep.
Starting elevation 5908
Camp Elevation 8564
Wednesday morning arrives bright and early... Well, early because we leave our hotel parking lot in Sierra Vista in the dark at 0445. We arrive at the Coronado National Monument parking lot just as the promise of dawn is beginning to lighten the eastern horizon.
A quick breakfast of orange and cranberry muffins and a banana, with lots of water to begin hydrating, and there's enough light to begin the 1.8 mile descent to the Mexican border for the official start of The Hike. Mckenna carries her pack, but I elect to "slack pack" since we have to turn around and come back to the parking lot. I know it's going to be a hard day, so I'm not going to make it any tougher on myself.
And then, with very little fanfare, it begins. Once we get to the 7500 foot elevation, I have no energy. I'm hiking through jello. Or my legs ARE Jello. We take lots of breaks, McKenna has me lead and set the pace.
We enjoy a tuna sandwich at about mile 5. By the time we get to Bathtub Springs, almost at the top of Miller Peak, the wind is terrible. Hard and cold. We had planned to try and go further, but are afraid the wind will be even worse further up. Plus, I'm wiped out, so we set up camp and have spaghetti for dinner. I'm too tired too eat, but try to force myself. Food is fuel.
The wind is horrible all night, with every gust feeling like it's going to blow our little tent off the mountain. And then the helicopter with spotlights lights up our tent around 10:30, and we have no idea what's going on. At 2:00 it starts raining and its in the mid 30's. We stay warm and dry all night, but get no sleep.
Tuesday, March 13, 2018
Let It Begin!!
We are sitting at a BBQ joint in Sierra Vista, waiting for our dinner, knowing that it won't be the heartburn keeping us awake tonight.
The countdown will reach 00:00:00 tomorrow morning (very early!) and we begin!!
Keep your fingers crossed for the first leg of our journey and we'll see ya in Patagonia in just over 50 miles!
Keep your fingers crossed for the first leg of our journey and we'll see ya in Patagonia in just over 50 miles!
Friday, March 9, 2018
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. 🤣
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.
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...
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.
#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.
#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!
#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. 🤣
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