Well, that whole idea of camping in grass as some sort of assurance of comfort does not work in the desert. Even the grass wants to poke you here in the desert and it works its way right through the alicoop, burrowing its way into my mattress. Sometime after the frogs go to sleep, I wake completely crunched into the ground. And you know, it’s pretty lumpy and awful. That sand would have been a whole lot nicer of a sleeping surface.
Nothing to do now but try and sleep. But I’m also next to a beautiful, babbling brook. The tent is damp and the air is cold, differently than last night on the ridge in the wind. Here it’s damp-to-the-bone cold. Nothing to do but wrap in tighter – or trundle out to go pee.
The stars are glorious and the sounds of hooting and screeching along with this fresh water calms me. I crawl back in, tighten down and sleep until it’s light.
The routine continues, packing up a bit damp, tying my shoes and throwing on the pack. Off I go. It can’t be that bad to the highway where I’ll hitch to the nearest town, Payson. Oh yes it can, afterall this is the Arizona Trail.
Things are easy at first, I can hear the highway, I can see the highway! But nothing is straightforward. I go in and out of washes, up and down and around. And then I see a ’road’ heading straight for the highway, but two of the beautifully made iron AZT signs seem determined to keep me from it.
Up I go, and up some more. What now?!? So you send me on a road nearly all day yesterday but now I have to climb up on this cliff, further away from the highway for some trail builder ego trip?! This trail is pissing me off!! (obviously I need a break)
Truth is it is a well built trail and any road that might be down there next to the creek where the cows are mooing might not actually be passable even if from up here I see a wide path ghrough the sycamores.
The birds are singing, hummingbird trumpets are a splash of beauty in a drab landscape. I think about how when things go wrong I blame myself. I mean it was a dumb decision to set in the grass, but a test of character and fortitude – a test of smarts – is managing difficulties and finding a way through.
I want to cry about my bad luck but instead I make a plan. Payson’s a big enough town, they’ve got to have a sporting goods store. I’ll get this fixed or find a substitute. I just need to get to Payson and it’s thirty miles away.
Funny how a hike reminds me to make each step the priority. I can’t fix my mattress now, I need to walk now and definitely not fall on the rocks, which I do for the first time, sliding backwards on my butt.
I meet the road, but have to dive down and cross the creek before meeting a gravel road and the trailhead. There I stand trying to look friendly and harmless, as well as a bit needy with my thumb stuck out. I smile and even say, ”Please.”
What goes through people’s minds when they pass me? They’re driving cars far too big for one. Maybe they just don’t want to bother or don’t notice me. Or what they do notice is that I’m a pretty odd out here with a backpack.
I barely notice when a red sports car stops, way up the road. For me? I guess so. Wes lives out of that car, cups and bottles all over the place, a picture of his girlfriend taped above the visor, but there’s room for me and my gear as we drive down the roller coaster of a highway. I call a motel and they have a hiker discount – even for a room with its own private jacuzzi. I’m dirty, I’m sore, it’s just what I need.
I’m here so early, they work fast to clean my room – and even hand me breakfast. So many kindnesses here in Arizona. I call some local outdoor companies, but only one allows me to leave a message. And then the true trail magic happens.
Margaret, an ultra runner and owner of Rim Runners returns my call. She doesn’t sell sleeping pads or have one to loan, but she just happens to be at in phoenix at the REI at that moment and can buy me one.
What are the odds?!?
The rest of my day sending home the damaged mattress, shopping for food, cleaning gear and planning for the next section goes about the same and I’m rested up and ready to face more steep climbs, long water carries and a million rocks…well, I could do without at least a few of those rocks.
