The Arizona Trail: North from Patagonia

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This trip began with a couple of false starts. The most time-consuming one involved an alternate route (ostensibly due to road work) that turned out to be unnecessary. I’d been overly-dependent on GPS-app navigation and had trouble following the written directions for the alternate because I was still getting hip to the lingo (“Turn left out of the wash and follow the double-track towards the ridgeline”).

When I finally reached the trailhead I met a lady - a trail angel, as they say - who visits various places along the Arizona Trail to leave jugs of water for hikers. After a couple weeks of solo hiking with only brief breaks in a town where I didn’t know anyone, “my senses were sharp for any human contact,” as Kerouac wrote in “On the Road”.

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Temperatures began dipping below freezing overnight (it was now mid-November) and so I started sleeping with my water filter and phone inside my sleeping bag. I also built fires most nights, something I’d never done in New Mexico on the CDT. I’d come from Vermont, where the varieties of trees are vastly different for the most part, and yet ironically foraging was much the same: Dark wood that’s more stubborn and smoky and the lighter (both in terms of weight and color) wood that burns quicker.

Some of landmarks along this stretch included Walker Basin trailhead, Casa Blanca Canyon, Anaconda Creek and Bear Creek. Arizona had experienced an unusually rainy October and surface water - sometimes running over the trail - was plentiful. Sonic boom sounds sometimes reached me from the army outpost on the other side of the mountain, as well as the retort of hunters’ guns, all of these strangely surreal sounds to hear in the wilderness.

Another thing distinguishes traveling in Arizona from what I’ve experienced in the East: The roads ride along the crests of the hills. You become conscious of such things when you’re obliged to huff it up all of those rises.

A snatch of poetry written on the trail:

There’s no greater

Divinity

but where it’s

fumbling its way

forward with

your fingers in

the fertile

dark

Gropes forward with

your hands as the

verdant sun

Peers out of

your eyes at

its immaculately muddied

reflection

Meanwhile I wrestled with the core conundrum of how to proceed on the Arizona Trail when lodgings were scarce along the way. This may not pose a challenge for someone whose first priority is to thru-hike the trail, but it complicated my own desire to document the journey on video - a task that requires occasional downtime in places where I can recharge my electronics, get online to edit and upload, etc. I finally found a promising “second base of operations” - the little town of Oracle, just north of Tucson.