A Sky Island Ending

Part 5 of the Arizona Trail resumes on the way out of Tucson up the Catalina Highway with Merianne. About 160 miles remain until the trail’s end at the Mexican border, traversing some of the many sky island chains that define the desert topography.

I was glad to set back out on trail with a friend in tow in Merianne. It’s always a little bit tough to depart good company to set back out, and I didn’t realize just how comfortable I could get with a mere day back home. On adventure, it’s a balancing act between resupply, laundry, gear repairs or swaps, the writing and photo editing, and then actually relaxing. It goes by in a flash, but it has to if I want to keep moving and finish this. A hike out together was a nice last activity to share after the rush as I prepare to test my resolve one more time.

After an hour or two sauntering in the midday heat (because I had errands to finish!), we shared a hug and intent to meet again at the end if our schedules worked out. I was then off on my lonesome. That goal on the first day out was to make camp somewhere up Mica Mountain, an 8,700” peak within the confines of Saguaro National Park I’d soon be summiting. It was only dusk and a dozen miles when I got there, but I thought I’d treat myself (“one last time”, I said to myself.) and save lugging up thousands of feet a weighty cold soak of instant rice I had for dinner, plus a can of beer. I settled at a flat stretch, at the mountain’s north base, Italian Trap, and saved the entire climb for tomorrow.

Saying a tricky day awaited would be an understatement, with a truckload of elevation smacking me in the face at dawn, and a 20+ mile march required to pass between the north and south borders of the Park due to camping restrictions. The entire day was some 6,000’ feet of gain, one of the largest I’d put down in a single day. The good thing about these grueling elevation changes is that they generally come with better quality water; sometimes even flowing! It took me well past dark before I made it near enough the park border and threw down, exhausted, on a pile of matted grass some kind animals had likely made for me. No more involved climbs for awhile was a nice solace to fall asleep to that night.

I thought I’d spend the next few days pushing fast through the lowlands between the Rincons, where I had just departed, and the Santa Ritas, that respectively make up the eastern and southern views from Tucson. Instead, I wound up bumping into Carrot and her crew, and taking them up on an offer to hit up the Tucson exurb of Vail. “Check out the most modern Safeway grocery in the nation”, one told me! Well, despite being provisioned for more days out to Patagonia, the Scavenger isn’t wont to turn down such opportunities. A short drive out and back from trail at the behest of their friend after kicking back the rest of the afternoon was the agreement. However, I soon found a poison pill in the fine print that soured any vegan ice cream I may have had my camp spoon in.

That was the crew’s intent to jump ahead to a different trailhead six miles further, in what is pejoratively referred to as ‘yellow blazing’ (an Appalachian Trail lingo). I declined that and got stuck taxiing my lonesome butt back to where I was supposed to be at dusk, and I was lucky to even have that option. I guess it’s still kind of a deal to get a luxury resupply in and only have to pay one way, but I wasn’t too happy in the moment you might imagine. I hold quite a disdain for skipping miles, consider it cheating and generally eschew anyone on trail who claims a thru-hike once outed. It’s galling, especially when it comes to easy choices like this one, where one could spend a couple less hours idling about a grocery store instead of pushing the miles needed to make any sort of deadline.

Alone again, I’d push a couple marathons in the low deserts sans further distractions. These were a couple of long days, void of camaraderie, though I did find little bits of trail magic each day on the way towards Patagonia, the last stop on the way to Mexico. A quick up and over through the Mount Wrightson Wilderness and an utter drudgery of a gravel road walk down from it (that the AZT Assoc. is soon rerouting!), and I got dumped out right into the charming little town. Tips on the FarOut app that we use out here for navigation and services led me to Goatlandia, an Airbinb with a side hustle of letting hikers sleep wherever for $20. Washing myself and my raiment was worth it mostly, for I determined my scheduling would work for Merianne to meet me the day after Thanksgiving. Don’t wanna be too wretched for that! I budgeted three days for the last fifty miles of the Arizona Trail, with a nice chill day exiting town following a true vegan breakfast at the chill cafè in town.

Even though I’d be getting a no-complication extraction with friends from the border, this chapter will still be defined as the only one I spent mostly alone. I mentioned previously my fortune in finding friends to hike with and the strength I draw from it, thus, a bit of a bummer for me. But, the cards can’t always be in it, for social thru-hiking is a constant roll of the dice for who you wind up around, and if you can stand them. A little bit of dedicated me time to think about the many ducks at home waiting to be put into rows was fine.

My last days featured the Huachucas, a formidable mountain chain in Arizona’s far south. I’d been once before with Merrianne a year prior, and it can get quite cold up there at 8,000 feet. I avoided camping at the apex this time around, finding a nice sheltered canyon instead. This year featured a nice dust of ice and snow to navigate around; great for when the tread on your shoes have utterly eroded.

I had a funny interaction up there with cross-border criminality, as dozens of camo clad Mexicans passed me on trail. I was politely, but urgently asked not to call the cops by one who spoke English. I obliged of course, having no service in the wilderness. I’d meet Wendy later that morning and on telling her about my encounter with such disciplined migrants, she clarified that it was much likelier they were drug mules. Boy, did I feel naïve. But, I learned how to ask for a cut next time from the narco-trafficantes en Español.

Merrianne, with Wendy in tow as a pleasant surprise, met me some halfway up Miller Peak, the high point of the Huachucas at its southern end and where people typically hike. With two great friends of my Tucson life by my side, we ventured down the Peak and to the terminus, just two more miles past the parking lot at Montezuma Pass. It’s a wonderful feeling, finishing one of these grand adventures, with people you love by your side. Unfortunately, the damage to the landscape from Trump’s border wall was immediately evident as we gazed upon trail’s end. A mile section of wall had been arbitrarily built here, allegedly to spite the Parks’ service. One thinks that the wall itself is the worst of it, but the roadbuilding required to put it in place is what’s left an even larger gash in the landscape. This monument to folly just evokes Ozymandias to me, and is a stark reminder of the consequences of Trumpism and Fascism we’re facing in American democracy.

We put the grim politics of the moment aside, got some vegan pizza at Mod in Sierra Vista, and then returned to Tucson. I’ve had my butt plopped happily on the couch at Merianne’s the last few days as my subletter finishes his term at my place. Exercise, productivity, and all those ducks needing alignment? I’ve dabbled, but mostly am content relaxing until I’m back in my own space.

I found myself a nice achievement in completing this trail. It took 46 days in total, with six rest days included, and I never felt like I was on a brutal pace. I found some redemption here after the fallout on Pacific Crest crossing this state I now call home, and was glad to renew my friendships with people locally, as well as make some cool new ones from my fellow adventurers. It’s been good times out on the Arizona Trail, and I’ll be seeing it again soon, the next time I’m called out with shovel or saw. Until then, AZT!