March 16, 2022
- Start: Gila River Trailhead (Mile 257.8)
- End: Stealth site near road junction (Mile 276)
- Distance: 18.2 miles
I was up before my alarm, ready to get showered and head back out to the trail. My zero in Kearny was a good one, but now it was time to get back out for the reason I was here. To hike the AZT. As always though, I worried I might leave something behind in the hotel, so I double and triple checked all my things before saying goodbye to the General Kearny Inn.
Volt, Max Max and I were supposed to meet Jodie over at Old Time Pizza at 8 am for our ride back out to the trail and I didn’t want to be late. The people of Kearny had been so good to me, and I wasn’t about to take advantage of their generosity and ruin it for the hikers who came after me.
The guys were already waiting out front of the pizzeria when I showed up, but the rest of the town seemed to be asleep. Kearny was like a ghost town. Then, at 8 am on the dot, an old pickup rolled up. It wasn’t Jodie driving though. Instead it was an older guy with a gray beard and a tie-dyed shirt.
He wandered over to our little group and introduced himself to us as Dr. Pizza. This was Jodie’s dad, Gary, the owner of Old Time Pizza, and he’d be giving us a ride in her stead. The entire ride back to the Gila River trailhead, Dr. Pizza regaled us with stories. Just one more addition to the trail magic that is Kearny.
GILA RIVER
We ran into another AZT thru-hiker topping off his water at the spigots by the Pinal County Maintenance shed near the trailhead. He shared that he was a National Park ranger who lived and worked in Denali National Park in Alaska. This was the low season for the park in terms of visitors, so he’d come out to Arizona to see how far he could hike during his vacation.
The four of us leisurely walked back to the trailhead together and eventually found our own paces. The Denali ranger strode out front at a real fast clip, and he was soon out of sight. Then Mad Max pulled ahead, followed by me, with Volt taking up the rear.
The next 15 miles of the AZT paralleled the Gila River, which led me to believe it would be much easier hiking that it actually turned into. Instead of walking alongside the river, I was following the folds of the terrain several hundred few above it.
Railroad tracks followed the water’s edge down below, eventually crossing from our side of the Gila to the opposite bank. And more often than not, I couldn’t even see the river.
This stretch of trail seemed to be filled with pointless ups and downs all morning as we walked under the sun on the exposed desert hills. Small lizards scampered across the dirt and rocks, and the mercury seemed to climb every hour.
It was supposed to be in the mid- to upper-80s again today! This was crazy warm temperatures for the middle of March. I’d probably need to break my sun umbrella back out again this afternoon just to get a break from the heat that was pounding the top of my head. For now though, I just pulled the hoodie of my sun shirt up over my hat in a small effort to protect my still-sunburned ears.
Up ahead of me, the views of the Gila River were mostly obscured by the turns in the trail. But whenever I turned around to look behind me, the entire landscape seemed to unfold around it. Weird how that this change of perspective can reveal so much. There’s probably a metaphor for life in there somewhere…
LUNCH TIME
I passed Mad Max while he was taking a quick break and kept on trucking along. I didn’t want to stop until I found some shade, and there was precious little along this exposed stretch of hills.
Eleven miles into the day, I made it to Walnut Canyon and decided it was time for lunch and perhaps a little siesta in the shade of the canyon walls. I only planned to hike 18 miles today, so I could afford to rest a bit during the heat of the day.
As I settled into Walnut Canyon with my my back leaning against one of the cool rock walls, my body seemed to recede into the dark shadows. I saw Mad Max walk by and he didn’t even glance in my direction. Fifteen minutes later Volt walked by too. The same thing occurred. He didn’t have a clue I was sitting there.
Another 30 minutes elapsed, and then another hiker strolled by. But this one stopped in the middle of the wash to let some OHV traffic move past him, and then he turned just enough to spot me in my hiding spot. It was Eagle. And once he saw me, he was coming over to visit. Dammit!
I made nice and talked to him for a few minutes, but it was mind numbingly dull. How is it that I could spend hours and hours of fun conversations with some hikers (like Mad Max and Volt), yet not find anything remotely interesting with others?? Was this a character flaw on my part? Or was I just old enough not to want to waste my time?
The sun was directly overhead now and the shade in the canyon was disappearing quickly. This shift was my excuse to break contact. I said goodbye to Eagle and wished him luck. Then I hoisted my pack back on and set off down the trail leaving him to eat his snacks solo.
Warthogs
After my stop in Walnut Canyon, I still had nearly five more miles before I would reach the trail junction heading away from the river. I’d tank up from the Gila River access point there, and then hike a few more miles and dry camp somewhere partially up the long 2,000-foot climb beyond it.
The AZT dropped closer to water level after lunch. Groves of trees and green grassy areas flanked the trail, and I could hear cow bells clanging in the distance. I could have gotten water here, but at what cost? The cows were probably crapping everywhere and I’d prefer to avoid as much ‘manure water’ as possible this afternoon.
The trail was returning to the desert scrub and tall saguaro cactuses when I heard a loud noise coming up behind me in the air. Then an A-10 Warthog screamed overhead at low altitude. Seconds later another one came flying over behind the leader.
The were flying so low through here that the roar was deafening. It was like watching resistance fighters in Star Wars coming in low in preparation of dropping the perfectly placed precision guided bomb on a tiny target.
These aircraft were flying sorties so low and fast that I didn’t even have time to get my phone out to take a photo. But then I heard the roar behind me again. I was going to get another chance. There was a second duo of Warthogs coming in behind the initial ones.
I whipped out my phone, doing my best to snap a few quick pictures in the handful of seconds when they flew past at 300+ mph. Well, you don’t see this sight every day on the trail! After all, it’s not like any of us need close air support on the Arizona desert!
THE LOW POINT
With the excitement of the jets gone, I refocused my attention on the trail. Up ahead, rugged vermillion rocks rose out of the landscape creating giant knobby formations The desert was wonderfully beautiful and changing once again before my eye.
Near the 15 mile mark, I found the turn down a wash for the Gila River. This was the last access point for the muddy vein the color of chocolate milk that would be my sole water for the next 10 miles.
As I strode toward the water’s edge, I spotted a bloody white bandana fluttering in the wind on some thorny cat claw. I knew Mad Max had a nosebleed when we first hit the trail this morning, and he usually carried a bandana just like that on his pack.
Normally I would have left it a bloody bandana where it was and just walked right past. But I figured there was good chance I’d see him down by the river filtering his water. So I untangled it from the sharp thorns and stuffed it into the mesh pouch on the outside of my pack. I’d return it to him just as soon as I saw him again.
When I got down to the river though, I was completely alone. Neither Mad Max nor Volt were here, which seemed a bit odd. They weren’t that far ahead of me were they? The river seemed like where I’d most likely catch them because it was cool and shady here under the trees.
I pulled three liters of water, careful to pre-filter it because the water looked so silty that it was bound to clog my filter if I wasn’t careful. I hadn’t seen anything this brown since I tried to get water from the Little Missouri River up in North Dakota a few years back.
Filtering took longer than normal, and once I returned back to the trail, I passed a AZT sign telling me that I’d reached the lowest elevation on the Arizona Trail at 1,646 feet. It’s amazing to think the two weeks ago I was going over Miller Peak near the border at 9,465 feet. And just five days ago, I was going over Mt. Lemmon at 9,171 feet! And now I was on the desert floor.
I’d just passed past the sign, when I spotted Volt walking back toward me. What the heck?? Apparently, he’d missed the side trail down to the river access point and realized he’d need to double back.
PENIS ROCK
I planned to only go another three or four miles past the river and find a good stealth place to camp so I could break up the 10-mile climb ahead of me. The wind was picking up, and making it impossible for my to use my umbrella to block the sun. I just had to suffer in the oppressive heat and under the weight of a full pack with a full complement of water.
Despite these discomforts, the scenery during this stretch of the trail was truly stunning . More red rocks and cliffs towered over the landscape casting deep shadows that stretched to the east under the late afternoon sun.
As I continued climbing, a prominent rock emerged on the horizon. There was no diverting your eyes from this giant abnormality. Crowd-sourced comments about the rock formation on FarOut ranged from hilarious and subtle to sophomoric and profane.
There was not denying its presence though. It always loomed in the distance, growing bigger and bigger over the next few miles.
Just before 5 pm, I reached a junction where the trail made a sharp turn to the right. This was approximately 18 miles from my starting point this morning, and only 18 miles from the Picketpost Trailhead, which I hoped to get to tomorrow. I normally wouldn’t stop this early, but there didn’t seem to be much point in pushing further. There were plenty of flat tent spots near the junction. And if I was lucky, Volt would see me here and decide to join me too.
There were two downsides to this location though: (1) the heaps of *mostly* dry cow manure everywhere; and (2) the wind. I struggled with the elements to get my tent set up, and even had to wait a few hours for wind to die down so I could cook a bit of dinner. But at least it was warm and dry enough out that I didn’t need to bother with my rain fly this evening!
Highlights
- What a friggin gorgeous bit of terrain. The flowers were in bloom, the red rock formations were stunning, and the desert just seemed super vibrant today.
- Dr. Pizza was a hoot, and Mad Max, Volt, and I were super grateful for the ride back out to the trail. Stay classy, Kearny!
- Seeing the A-10 Warthogs whipping over the desert at 300+ miles and hour made my heart pound. What an awesome surprise.
Challenges
- The sole water source today was the muddy Gila River. I’m glad I brought a bit of nylon pantyhose with me to help pre-filter the silt out.
- The desert was a harsh mistress today. The temperatures soared into the mid- to upper-80s today and the wind didn’t do much to keep me cool. It just prevented me from using my umbrella for shade.