March 12, 2022

• Start:  Stealth spot near High Jinks Ranch (Mile 193.4)
• End:  Stealth spot north of Mountain View Tank (Mile 216.2)
• Distance:  22.8 miles

When the sun woke me up this morning, it wasn’t nearly as cold out as it had been yesterday on Mt. Lemmon. There wasn’t any snow. I was 2,100 feet lower in elevation. And yet, the wind was gusting so strongly that I couldn’t even boil water for my coffee without using some nearby rocks and my foam sit pad as windbreak.

Later, I had to gather up even more rocks to hold my tent (and rainfly) down so they wouldn’t blow away as I broke down camp and tried to neatly roll everything up. It was like my tent was a giant parachute wanting to capture the wind and pull me across the desert with it. 

Little did I know at the time, this wind was to be my constant companion today as I skirted around around the town of Oracle.

ROCKS, ROADS, & FURNITURE

Heading down the remainder of the Cody Trail, it didn’t take long before I made it to the American Flag Trailhead where I’d begin the AZT’s wide semi-circular path through the desert and into Oracle State Park. A small water cache sat at the base of a giant wooden ranch-style entrance sign. And overhead, an engraved sign welcomed visitors to the Arizona Trail.

Over to my right, I spotted the American Flag Ranch House, which was completely quiet on this Saturday morning. It was too early for any visitors to the small museum that sat inside.

I spotted a sign that told me the American Flag Ranch once served as a headquarters for nearby mining and ranching operations, soon becoming the local post office back in 1880. Over the subsequent decade, the population shifted from American Flag over to Oracle. So the federal government discontinued mail service to the American Flag Ranch before the 20th century. Nonetheless, the historic building still stands, and it’s one of the oldest surviving post office buildings in the state of Arizona.

Back on trail, another wooden ranch-style entrance flanked the opposite side of the road. And from there, the AZT led north toward American Flag Hill, with its unusual boulder and rock formations.

As I hiked around the immense rocks and through the sandy desert, the views captured my imagination. One of the rock formations immediately reminded me of a nativity scene – with two narrow pillars on either side representing Mary and Joseph, and series of smaller pillars in between making up the three wise men. Below them, sat even more roundish rocks that could be the nativity’s livestock.

I’m not sure anyone else glancing at those rocks would imagine the same silhouette. But that’s how it struck me at that tranquil early morning hour. I can’t even specify why. I’m not a particularly religious person. But who knows, maybe I’m going to become one of those weird folks who tries to convince everyone I saw the outline of the Virgin Mary in a saguaro cactus next.

The following 6 miles through Oracle State Park were some of the easiest I’d hiked thus far. Mostly flat. Nicely groomed. What a wonderful contrast to all the rocks and the steep descent of Oracle Ridge yesterday! The trail through state (and national) park lands are always better maintained than the more rugged wilderness areas.

Over the next few hours, I was passed through several gates with rusty Arizona Game & Fish signs posted on them and crossed some lonely paved roads. There wasn’t a lick of traffic as far as the eye could see, and the asphalt seemed to stretched forever before disappearing in the distance. It was just so desolate out here this morning.

As I worked through of series of gates at each road crossing, I couldn’t see any cattle or other wildlife. Certainly nothing that needed to be contained by the miles upon miles of barbed wire fences surrounding me. However, I did find one unusual wonder out here in the desert… an abandoned sofa sat resting in the midst of the tall grasses and leafless trees. 

God only knows how the heck that furniture got way out here. Maybe it’s part of Ethan Allen’s new “Hikertrash Collection” and it was a put here on the AZT as a demo. But try as I might, I wasn’t going to approach the sofa once and give it a sit. Who knows how many reptiles might be making a home under those cushions this spring? 

CANNED WATER

About 6 miles into my day, I made my way down into Kennally Wash where I was looking forward to a break to eat my second breakfast – a sleeve of powered sugar donuts. Yum!

The general description of the spot in my FarOut App informed me that the nearby windmill was currently out of service, so I shouldn’t expect to get any well water there. Yet some of the comments left by prior hikers left me intrigued. These crowd-sourced remarks kept referring to “canned” water being present in the wash.

What the heck were these hikers talking about? Who’s ever heard of canned water? I’ve had bottled water. And tap water. Mineral water. Spring water. Distilled water. Sparkling bubbly water.  Well water. River water. Even puddle water. I’ve never heard of canned water though, so I was curious to see what the hubbub was about.

As I entered the wash, and made my way over to the sun-worn gray windmill, I spied a brown picnic table nearby. Sitting atop the bare table were four tall, 16-ounce aluminum beer cans. My heartbeat quickened when I saw the cans. The suggestion of a morning beer made my mouth water. Now that would be some awesome trail magic!

The front of the loose 4-pack had a logo from Four Peaks Brewing Company in Tempe, Arizona. But, instead of containing a nice hoppy IPA or a golden ale, their labels said they were filled with “hydrating, life-giving drinking water.”

Well, that answers that question. Water in aluminum cans. I suppose that method would hold up well in the desert (though it must get awfully warm in the sun).

It was an undoubtedly nice gesture by Four Peaks Brewing Company to pair with the AZT to ensure there was a water cache way out here. But honestly… a small part of me was disappointed it wasn’t beer. And since I still had plenty of water from the metal tank last night, I left the four cans of “Four Peaks water” for another hiker to discover.

MILE 200

Shortly after the canned water, the AZT took a jog up a small hill toward a lonely wooden bench with views of the Santa Catalina Mountains behind me. 

I didn’t stop to catch my breath or rest on the bench when I crested the hill. No, I used my time gathering rocks instead. Why? Because the section of dirt trail running directly in front of this bench was the 200-mile mark of my AZT thru-hike!

And once again, none of the other hikers ahead of me built anything to mark this monumental milestone. What was going on here? We just walked 200 miles!! One quarter of the Arizona Trail was complete. How could those hikers not do anything to celebrate this awesome moment?

I wasn’t nearly so apathetic as to allow this moment to go by like it was any other mile. The very least I could do was gather up some nearby rocks and build a marker alongside the trail to commemorate our massive accomplishment. Hopefully Mad Max, and Carlisle, and Cheez-it, and everyone else behind me would see it an be equally proud of themselves!

From the top of the hill it was just two more easy miles down to the Cherry Valley Wash trailhead, where I was surprised to discover another water cache waiting for me in the brown metal bear box. Man, the trail angels out here near Oracle are really on their game! There was water at the American Flag trailhead, at the windmill, and now at Cherry Valley wash. There’s water seemingly everywhere this morning.

Knowing the rest of the day only had three more potential water sources, I topped up one of my bottles here as the cache. I was hoping to make it 13.5 miles to the Mountain View water tank tonight. And the afternoon looked like it was going to be a hot one.

After departing the Cherry Valley Wash trailhead, the trail worked its way under the concrete underpass below Highway 77. A colorful mural covered one of the cool concrete walls, and sign near the tunnel’s entrance warned equestrians not to proceed. 

At first, this warning seemed curious to me. Clearly a rider wasn’t going to try to ride their horse though this 7.5-foot high opening. But couldn’t they just dismount and walk their horse in? 

As I ventured further into the tunnel, I didn’t take long to see why the warning sign was there. The underpass opening on the south side was over 7 feet high, but them the sandy wash sloped up toward the north side. As a result, the opening where I exited the tunnel was probably closer to 5.5 feet high, and I had to bend over so as not to hit my head on the way out.

Ok, it made sense to me now. You wouldn’t want to lead your horse into that tunnel and have it freak out when the ceiling starts to close in like a funhouse with sloping floors!

UGH, IT’S UNCLE DOUG

Once through the underpass, the AZT merged with Tiger Mine Road, and I set off to walk on the exposed dirt road that gently climbed for about a mile and a half. When I was nearing the road’s dead end (at medium-size parking area near the Tiger Mine Trailhead), a guy in a hat and sunglasses came trotting around the front of a black pick-up truck parked about 100 yards in front of me.

As he approached, the man announced in a booming voice, “I know what you’re thinking…You’re wondering, is that trail magic up ahead in the parking lot? Well, yes it is! Welcome!”

The guy was nearly shouting so I could hear him over the gusting wind, and he seemed VERY excited to be doing some trail magic today. It had only been about 24 hours since I last ate town food up at Mt. Lemmon, so I really hadn’t expected anything special up here at the trailhead after such. a quiet morning. But if he was inviting me, I’d definitely stop to see what he was offering…

As we rounded his giant pick-up truck to get out of the wind, there were three camp chairs, along with a little table with a grill, and several blue ice chests resting on the ground. 

I immediately shrugged off my heavy pack and accepted an ice cold can of Orange Crush soda from the guy, then I selected a snack bag of Cheetos to enjoy (a snack I probably haven’t eaten in the past 20 years because of my loathing of orange-stained fingers!). 

As I sat there enjoying the trail magic treats, I asked my benefactor his name, and he responded by saying, “Ugh.”  

“Bug?” I said. I wasn’t sure I’d heard him correctly over the loud wind.

“No. Ugh,” he replied. Then he went on to explain his real name was actually Doug. But when his niece and nephew were young, they would see him coming and teasingly shout, “Ugh, it’s Uncle Doug.” And then the two kids would crack up laughing – as if their rhyme was the funniest, most clever thing they could fathom. 

Over the years, “Uncle Doug,” affectionately transitioned to just “Ugh,” and that was the nickname he used on trail too.

Doug and I were the only ones there at the moment and quickly exchanged our hiking resumes, where we discovered we have some recent overlap. We both did northbound thru-hikes on the Appalachian Trail in 2019. Yet, despite this shared experience, we never crossed paths out there. Of course, that’s mostly because Doug started a full 2.5 months ahead of me! How could I possibly catch him with that big of a lead?

As I enjoyed the tangy citrus flavor of my Orange Crush, Doug told me I was just behind a pair of German hikers. Then after spending a few minutes describing them, he shared he only had two hot dogs left. But he said he’d gladly grill them both up for me if I wanted them. I demurred, and I told him to please save them for the two hikers not to far behind me – Cheez-it and Carlisle.

Doug’s excitement at hearing Cheez-it’s name was off the charts. They’d hiked the first few days of the AZT together before Doug injured himself and had to get off trail. He’d been in Tucson recovering for the last week or so, and Doug felt pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to resume his thru-hiking plans this season. That’s why he was out here doing trail magic now.

But seeing Cheez-it again would definitely be worth staying at the trailhead for a few more hours, he told me. Then Doug turned his attention to Carlisle, and asked me whether that was his trail name or real name.

When I said it was his real name, the news electrified Doug. His boisterous enthusiasm amped up from a 10 (after hearing about Cheez-it) to a 12! Then he announced that he was going to help Carlisle get a trail name, before proceeding to pump me for every detail I knew about the guy. 

Honestly I didn’t have that much to share. I knew Carlisle was in his late 20s. He was from Utah. He worked as an electrician when he was back home. Plus, the Arizona Trial was his first thru-hike. That’s pretty much the bulk of what I learned while we ate lunch together yesterday on Mt. Lemmon.

This was enough detail for Doug though. He immediately latched on to Carlisle’s profession as an electrician and started spitballing potential trail names. “Journeyman,” he announced loudly. “No. No. How about Amp?” He asked me. 

I shrugged in response. Whatever. This was his idea, not mine.

As I finished off the Cheetos and got up to throw my snack bag away, Doug got even more animated and suddenly announced, “Volt! Yes, that’s a perfect trail name, don’t you think?” 

I noncommittally shrugged and said, “OK.” Giving other people their trail names wasn’t really my thing. But Doug seemed to need something to entertain himself.

“I’m going to name him Volt,” he firmly announced, “and I’m going to tell him you helped me come up with the name.”

“OK,” I vaguely muttered. I didn’t want to be rude. Doug seemed like a nice enough guy. And he was doing trail magic. So the least I could do was humor him as he came up with potential trail names to amuse himself.

Heck, now that I considered the matter more closely, I realized Doug might not even see Carlisle today. I had absolutely no clue how far he was behind me. The last time I saw him was during our descent on Oracle Ridge yesterday afternoon. And, for all I knew, he’d gone into Oracle today like Mad Max. 

As I looked down at my watch, I was surprised to see 45 minutes had flown by as I’d sat there chatting with Doug. It was time to get moving. Despite the wind, the temperature was now well into 70s and it was going to be a very hot afternoon in the desert. Lingering here was not going to help me get to camp.

Doug encouraged me to fill up my water bottles before leaving. He had several gallon water jugs resting beside his truck, so I downed the half-liter I’d just taken from the Cherry Valley Wash cache, and then topped myself back up. If I was lucky, this water would get me through the afternoon and I wouldn’t have to get off trail to visit either of the tanks between here and my intended destination this evening. 

Then Doug accompanied me over to the Tiger Mine Trailhead and graciously offered to take my photo for me. We parted ways with a fist bump – with me heading north, while he looking south to see if there were anymore hikers heading his way for some trail magic. I sure hoped so! He clearly needed some people to talk to.

CHOLLA

The bulk of the afternoon was filed with wildflowers, cactus, and rolling terrain that vacillated between hills and sandy washes. Ahead of me, flat-topped mesas spread toward the horizon. It was all quite beautiful in its subtle way, but I was getting hotter and hotter with every mile.

After my pit stop in Tanque Verde a few days ago, I’d decided to swap my loose hiking pants with my sleep pants (a pair of form-fitting Nike running tights) to give my thighs a break from the chafe. But now that the mercury was climbing, and there was absolutely no shade, I felt as if I was overheating in my black tights. 

As I dropped down into one of the low washes, I dug through my pack and found my shorts. Hopefully, shedding the long clothing and wearing something with more airflow would cool me down a little. I coated my thighs with a layer of baby powder (to keep the chafe from getting worse), then I set off north across the desert toward the water tank where I hoped to camp tonight.

In the middle of the afternoon, I passed signs warning me about a nearby gas line, then soon thereafter it seemed like I was passing through a grove of 6-foot tall cholla. There were so many different type of cholla out here. Spindly Buckhorn cholla. Puffy Teddy-bear cholla. Purple cholla. It was a veritable cholla smorgasbord!

The types of wildlife I was seeing in the dry desert changed too. Small cotton-tailed rabbits scurried across the trail and I kept my eyes (and ears) alert for rattlesnakes. This seemed the idea place to cross paths with one, but luckily, none emerged.

Around 4:15pm, I came across two hikers sitting beside the trail looking weary and exhausted. They’d plopped themselves right off trail in the brutal sun because there simply was no shade to be had. 

The guy had a badly sunburned looking face that was peeling in several places under the brim of his hat. Meanwhile the lady had chapped lips and looked ragged and tired. It was clear from the expression on her face that she was completely over being in the hot desert.

I stopped and asked their names, and learned they were Dennis and Frauke – the two Germans that Doug had talked about. Ok, I recognized their names from the AZT trail registers at Manning Camp and the Sahaurita Trailhead too. I was slowly catching up to the people in front of me. First Cheez-it. Then Carlisle. And now Dennis and Frauke. Who would be next?

They looked so miserable sitting in the dirt that I really wanted to offer them something to lift their spirits. But I was down to my last half liter of water, and I still had nearly 4 miles until the Mountain View Tank. So I did the next best thing I could think of, and I offered them each a piece of hard candy. It wasn’t much, but any kindness matters out here. 

Not long after I left the Germans behind to rest, I arrived at a challenging climb, and the ligaments on my right ankle started acting up. The pain and tenderness was just as bad as it had been on my descent down Oracle Ridge yesterday. Ah man, I knew this particular pain intimately. It always cropped up whenever I was overdoing my physical endeavors.

Too many miles and my ankle gets angry. It’s my body’s way of telling me it’s time to take a zero. I’ve come more than 200 miles and my body needs some rest. So I’ll definitely need to stop to take a day off in Kearny. Just two more days of hiking and I should be there.

WATER & SUNSET

Around 5:30 pm, I finally reached the dirt road that led to the Mountain View Tank – a tall metal water cistern in the middle of the desert. Unfortunately though, it required a quarter-mile walk west down a dirt road to get there – none of which would be progress on the AZT.

The sun was now dropping low in the sky, and it was directly in my eyes. I averted my eyes slightly north where I could see a hiker setting up his tent near the junction of the trail and the road. And while the dirt road down to the water tank was wide and well-groomed, it felt so much longer than a quarter mile.

It must have been the fatigue setting in near the end of a long day. This same feeling used to hit me when I was on the AT. A sign would announce that a shelter was only be a short distance down a side trail, but it felt as if it took an eternity to get there.

When I eventually arrived at the Mountain View tank, I discovered a new challenge. I wouldn’t be able to reach the tank’s open top unless I climbed up a tall metal ladder propped myself against its side. 

I carried my soft water bladder up with me as I scaled the ladder to take a peep at my potential water source. I kept my fingers crossed that the tank was still full. If the water level was more than a foot or two down, I wouldn’t be able reach it to scoop it out. And I was now down to just a few swallows of water and was relying on this source to be abundant.

As I reached the top, I peeked over the lip of the metal tank and I held my breath. And then I was rewarded with the most beautiful sight. Copious water filled the metal cistern within just a few inches of the edge. I was totally in business! 

Back down on terra firma, I sat in the shade of the tank while 3.5 liters of water slowly gravity filtered into my clear plastic bottles. It was time to figure out where I was going to camp for the night. 

I’d hiked nearly 21 miles today, and I only had 43 miles to go until Kearny. If the terrain stayed like it was today, getting there was almost certainly achievable in just two days. Yes, my ankle was throbbing, but if I hiked just a little farther before dark, that would make those next two days just a tiny bit easier.

So I packed up my freshly filtered water, and told myself I would walk just 30 more minutes. I’d take the very first decent campsite I spotted after 6:15 pm. 

On my way back down the dirt road back to the AZT, I met two older guys named Dennis and Tom on their way to the tank to get water too. They said they were camping in the first wash up the trail. I sure hope they had better luck with katabatibc washes than I did back near Kentucky Camp. That was the last place I planned to camp again.

Then I passed the guy who’d been setting up his tent near the trail junction. He introduced himself as J.Z. and told me he was having some serious hip issues. I didn’t know how to respond other than to agree that this trail was a rough one. Perhaps he needed to dial it back and take it easy for a few days. He agreed, and told me he was going to try to backtrack to Oracle tomorrow, so I wished him the best of luck and set off north to find my own camp spot.

A few minutes later, I passed Dennis and Tom’s tents in the wash. Then I saw a few more rabbits hopping across the trail near sunset. And finally 6:15 pm came. I selected a spot about up on a hill near a giant saguaro, and was pleased with the superb views. 

As I made camp and cooked my dinner of refried beans and chili cheese Fritos, I couldn’t help but notice it was a warmer night. The wind had died down to nearly nothing, and I was able to make my dinner without wearing my puffy coat for the first time this entire trail!

Later, as I lay there in my tent trying to fall asleep, I kept hearing some sort of noisy animal nearby. It was hard to tell whether it was some sort of bird chirping or a mice squeaking. I sure hoped it wasn’t the latter. I had my food stored in an OPSAK, but the last thing I needed was for some hungry mouse to gnaw its way into my tent in search of wayward crumbs.

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HIGHLIGHTS

• Passing the 200-mile mark filled my soul with joy. I’m a quarter way done with this hike, and while it’s been hard at times, it really is everything I’d hoped it would be!
• The trail magic at Tiger Mine Trailhead was a total surprise. Doug was quite a character to talk to, and I appreciated his generosity.
• Seeing all the wildflowers and cactus, plus some new wildlife (bunnies) today.

CHALLENGES

• The wind this morning was definitely a frustrating additional to my morning – from trying to cook breakfast (while keeping the flame lit) to breaking down camp (without my tent flying away). At least the wind died down by the end of the day!
• My right ankle and the arch on that same foot were really bothering me this afternoon and evening. My body is definitely ready for my upcoming zero in Kearny. Only 42 miles to go!