Frolics of the Tonto

Part 3 of the Arizona Trail resumes with a morning ride out of Pine and a pledge to catch Marmot that night at the East Verde River.

“I should have no problem being in around last light. Have a fire going for me, will ya? I’ll make it worth your while” I texted him as my service started to flicker out.

I had packed four beers out with me, the remnants of a 12-pack of Barrio Blondes that I had brought back to a suddenly empty hostel, and I was to meet Marmot 21 miles ahead.

Well, on this first day out, Halloween, I’d awaken to the new reality on trail as I walked into low elevation desert for good save a few islands in the sky far south. Gone are the ice cold nights (why am I still carrying a zero degree sleeping bag?), and here to stay are hot days, and a stickerbush symphony to boot.

It was quite trivial to bag twenty miles walked in these increasingly brief days in flat forest, but now it’s become a dawn to dusk task as the elevation profile has spiked through the multiple wildernesses of the Tonto National Forest. Or past dusk, really, if I’m not disciplined on starting early or take long breaks. It’s a change from siestas on too-hot PCT days to fill up the hours.

That first day, last light became full darkness. The four beers had become two as I drowned them for midday electrolytes; it’s super effective! And after hearing a spooky animal call way back, I saw a headlamp in the dark behind me before reaching the descent to the Verde River.

While waiting for a steer in the night to pass, the light revealed itself as belonging to Jet, a speedy hiker who agreed to do spooky portraits with me. He had lost his friends leaving Pine, made that animal call to me expecting a response but only got my signature “angry pigeon”. We teamed up and met up with Marmot shortly later, who had the bonfire lit and earned his beer.

We decided to keep the twenty pace again, a somewhat ill advised goal with over a mile of elevation gain. Marmot left predawn to make the miles and I didn’t find him until after dark making my inappropriate bird calls off the ridges. I always try to make my waypoints, but I also am pretty bad at estimating the right amount of miles to walk for a day (I always shoot too high), and we both were beat. Jet was fine, but he is aiming to finish by Thanksgiving and would part ways with us the next morning anyway.

Fortunately, we’d trade his companionship to fall into pace with Monkey & Birdbath who we momentarily met back at Pine. The four of us all have Arizona ties, and thus, a most convivial campfire. These cats were even rewarded with a morning fire for my last day with Marmot, as he alas, had to go back to the ancestral home (Tucson) to say farewell to his ailing family cat.

As this essay continues out of the first wilderness of this section, the Mazatzals, I’d be loathe not to mention my wonderful time spent up here doing my very first trail work events a year ago where I met wonderful people like Merianne, Roger and Jake who all have been a boon to me on my PCT attempt this year and continued in aiding me as I have hiked our meticulously maintained trail.

I’d also like to not omit the scary amount of thorned overgrowth that has taken over with the bountiful rains of Summer; some parts of this area may have seen up to 20 inches of rain. Slashing, angry plants have subsequently grown across trail and some of the rugged sections are ever more so with angry plants ripping at your arms and legs. Another reason to rock the long sleeves and pants, but even they are casualties of this war of motion. I’ll take great relish in taking some of them out by the root over Winter.

With Marmot’s departure, I was bummed to lose the banter of a mathy Bay Area research type, but met new friends in Sam and Jenny, a determined couple of Michiganders, they along with Monkey who had a ridge campfire lit as a beacon to finish after dark. Birdbath would follow and the five of us would be a unit for a few days through the unique, brief Four Peaks Wilderness and down to Lake Roosevelt before splitting ways.

Birdbath and Monkey were fairly close, and figured out plans between them for days off and gear tweaks. After a quick resupply from Trail Time Jake, Instacart style direct-to-trail, and a night of piña coladas at a decidely not vegan friendly marina restaurant, I’d make my way out with Sam and Jenny. Not far behind and were Lucky of Quebec & Squatter from Oregon, Jet’s lost friends and nearly as speedy.

A late start & hellish overgrowth made even a 15 mile day into the Superstition Wilderness a challenge that would separate me from folks. My woes would continue, with my sleeping pad malfunctioning in a process known as delamination, where the pad blows up round, like an egg, instead of flat. Try sleeping on that! I dare say, I didn’t too well.

So with mounting problems, fatigue and uncleanliness, I opted for a stay in Superior with MJ, the purple trail angel. This lady runs a really nice operation and is so kind to hikers. It’s easy to forget that people go out of their way to help us accomplish these feats, since it’s a bit rarer than out East on the AT.

With her shelter, I was able to arrange return of my pad, buy a temporary new one (thanks again, Jake!), enjoy some fantastic baking and relax. I wonder if I’ll ever be doing something similar for other generations down the line. It definitely would be scratching an itch, but I’d have to be comfortable planting roots somewhere “out there” that most of these trail towns inherently are and not where I’m typically happiest living. Dilemmas and quandaries for another day!

Tomorrow, I pick back up and venture into the true lowlands. I’ve under 300 miles left now, and am feeling super optimistic about finishing in a timely manner and with high morale. I’m not isolated out here like I was left struggling with on the PCT, my body feels good and it’s always fun out here exploring. I just gotta hope the water situation holds out and I ain’t stuck drinking nothing too vile. My next waypoint ought to be in Tucson with Merianne. ‘Til then!