March 26, 2022

  • Start: Stealth spot near Polk Spring (Mile 430.6)
  • End:  Pine Trailhead (Mile 450.3)
  • Distance:  19.7 miles

I chose to sleep with my tent fly off last night to enjoy the warm air and star-studded sky. But that decision came with one unintended consequence. The bright beam of a headlamp hit my tent this morning around 6 am. The sky was still black, but someone was making their way up the trail with no regard for where their headlamp shone.

An older woman stomped up the trail from behind the beam of white light. She must have thought my lack of tent fly meant I was already awake or breaking down camp, because she stopped about 10 feet away from me and then just started talking at top volume as she swung her headlamp light between my tent and Volt’s.

Her barrage of questions ranged from asking us if we were hiking the Arizona Trail (which we were camped right beside) to how many miles we hoped to hike that day to what our names were.  When either one of us would respond to her questions, she’d just holler back at us with a loud, exaggerated “Whaaaat??” as if she was hard of hearing.

Then she announced she was heading into Pine tomorrow where she’d get herself a hotel in town and rest. I tried to gently break the news that there were no actual hotels in Pine. She’d either need to hike another 4 miles north to the town of Strawberry or hitch 14 miles south down Highway 87 to Payson.

My message wasn’t well received though, and I was met with another ornery and loud, “Whaaaat??” from her. I repeated myself twice more, speaking louder each time, before eventually giving up and wishing her good luck.

After she left, Volt and I both laid back down again and tried to get back to sleep. But we devolved in giggles, hollering “Whaaaat??” back and forth across the trail at each other until the sun came up and finally broke the spell.

Sunrise near Polk Spring

JUNIPER BERRIES

The morning began with a steep climb through more lava rock, jumping 1000 feet in elevation in less than a mile. I felt as if my calves were on fire while my lungs struggled with the effort.

Once at the top, Volt and I spent the next few miles together feeling grateful to have each other’s company again after yesterday’s separation. We were aiming to hike a 20-mile day, which would get to Pine this afternoon. And then we would meet back up with Mad Max and our little trail family would be back together again.

About an hour into the morning, we made it to Whiterock Spring, and caught back up with our early morning visitor, who we’d since nicknamed, “Whaaat??” She was laying on the ground using a pump filter to extract water from the spring and seemed to be completely in her own world.

The rest of the morning was pretty mediocre in my opinion and I was feeling completely blah. It started when I dropped my freshly filtered water bottle on the ground (before I got the lid screwed back on) and I had to watch as close to half of liter of water gushed out onto the ground in front of me. Then I hit another climb after the Whiterock spring that simply kicked my ass. I felt physically weaker today than I have in a long time.

Eventually the trail flattened out again, and wide juniper trees lined either side of the trail filling the air with an invigoratingly fresh smell. Small blue berries filled the green branches reminding me of the tiny blue berries I picked on the Appalachian Trail in New York and Maine. Though these ones were purely ornamental rather than a constant snack.

The AZT seemed flatter now, and the berries completely littered the trail in every direction for the next mile, with the pale blue in sharp contrast to the brick red color of the soil.

Juniper bows and berries
The ground simply covered with blue juniper berries!

NO MORE WEEKENDS

As the sun pulled directly overhead, the trail took a rocky descent toward Rock Creek and I cursed my worn out shoes for (hopefully) the last time. Today I’d get to Pine. Today I’d get my resupply box. And inside that box was a brand new pair of trail shoes with fresh tread that would keep me upright on these crazy slick descents.

At the bottom of the creek, I could hear voices coming from somewhere above me. At first it was just the animated chatter of several people volleying back and forth, without any ability to make out what they were saying. But as I sat there, quietly filtering my water from the creek, their words became more distinct and clear. 

The group of four hikers eventually appeared looking fresh faced and clean, and introducing themselves. The four of them lived in Flagstaff and they were just out on a weekend adventure backpacking in the mountains. 

Honestly, until they mentioned the weekend, I had no clue today was Saturday. After nearly four weeks on trail, weekdays and weekends have become completely irrelevant to me. Every day is a hiking day. There are no Mondays. There are no Saturdays. 

The only distinction between the days anymore is whether it’s a town day or not. Am I sleeping on trail in my tent and eating the food in my pack? Or am I heading into a town, where the potential for restaurant food, and beer, and a shower awaits? The actual day of the week matters less and less.

Finishing the Mazatzals!

MOGOLLON RIM

The hike back up from the creek took me through a canyon with a more gradual ascent filled with switchbacks. Then I was heading up the long, slow ascent to Alder Ridge heading back up to 6,000 feet elevation once again.

I stopped for lunch under the shade of one of the thick junipers, waiting for Volt to catch up to me and dreaming of cold beer. My resupply box was being held by THAT Brewery, a hiker friendly microbrewery in Pine. And I was going to quench my thirst with something stronger than water this afternoon.

After lunch, the trail turned super rocky again, but soon I had views of the Mogollon (pronounced ‘muggy-on’ ) Rim. This 200-mile long escarpment loomed ahead of me on the horizon like a tangible line dividing the two halves of the state.

The southern half the trail was over officially over once we made it to the Mogollon Rim. We’d be done with bulk of the major mountains: The Mazatzals. The Four Peaks Wilderness. The Superstitions. Mt. Lemmon and Oracle Ridge. Saguaro National Park. The Canelo Hills. The Huachuca Mountains and Miller Peak.

These last 26 days seem as if they’ve been all about the mountains of Arizona. But in just a few more days I’ll be cresting over the Mogollon Rim and walking on the relatively flat Colorado Plateau, with promises of easier days, bigger miles, and ponderosa forests. 

Outline of the Mogollon Rim in the distance

PINE

I followed a strip of freshly created trail for about an hour this afternoon before heading up and down a few more hills. Small wildflowers emerged here and there, but felt as if I was literally just putting one foot in front of the other, eager to get it over with. 

Then the AZT passed through a some sort of ranch with flat grass-covered pastures and cattle dotting the landscape. Bradshaw Tank was nearby, but I didn’t stop for water. I would wait until I got to Pine to quench my thirst.

Volt caught back up to me here, and the two of us walked the final hour together to Pine excitedly talking about our imminent reunion with Mad Max and all the town food we planned to eat. This distraction was what I needed and my pace picked up noticeably.

Heading through the ranch near Bradshaw Tank

At Highway 87, we were barely a mile from the brewery, and could have road walked the short distance on the wide shoulder. But we chose to following the zigzagging trail as it crossed over to the east side of the road, then met up with the Highline Trail – a 55-mile National Recreation Trail blazed with diamonds that runs concurrent with the AZT for the next 20 miles. 

And then we at the Pine Trailhead, heading back west and crossing Highway 87, yet again, on our way to THAT Brewery! The Mazatzals were behind us. We’d made it to town!

All smiles for cold beer

WHERE’S MAD MAX?

I found us a table out on brewery’s patio as Volt looked around to see if Mad Max was already there waiting for us. Volt didn’t find him, but several other hikers arrived ahead of us and they were already hanging out.

Taejen, Clothesline, and Double Take were all there, and they were making plan to resupply down at the Ponderosa Market. Several more hikers told us the brewery allowed AZT hikers to pitch their tents on the outdoor volleyball court and sleep there, but we’d have to wait until after last call.

Everyone at THAT brewery was so damn nice, and they treated all the hikers like rockstars instead of the filthy, smelly guests that we really were. They even held resupply packages, like the one I was currently opening with my precious new trail shoes!

Comparing the bottoms of my old trail shoes vs. my new ones!

As our food arrived, I spotted the Elliott (aka Pepé Le Pew) sitting a few tables over. He was eating by all by himself, so I waved him to join Volt and me.  Over the next hour, we learned that Elliott was originally from Quebec but now splits his time between British Columbia and the Yukon where he works as a surveyor.

He’d hiked the southern half of the AZT last spring (2021) before heading back to Canada for work, and now he was returning again to hike the remaining distance from up to Utah. He even had a trail name that had nothing to do with French-accented cartoon skunks. Though I noticed he still signed all the trail registers as “Elliot the French Canadian.”

The three of us sat drinking beer as afternoon started to turn into evening. Volt and I both texted Mad Max repeatedly and wondered where the heck he was at. Four days ago, he said he planned to get back on trail here in Pine and would meet up with us when we got to the brewery. But now it was just crickets coming from him. Had he bailed on us? Was he still hanging out in Prescott with his friends??

By 5:30 pm, we were ready to give up. We needed to make a plan. I had no desire to camp on the brewery’s volleyball court like the other hikers. It was free, but I didn’t care. I wanted to wash the grime of the AZT’s last section from my body. I was going to hitch the 15 miles south to Payson and grab a hotel room.

Volt and Elliott were game to head to Payson too, so we wandered out back to Highway 87 and threw out our thumbs hoping to get a ride before the sun disappeared completely.

Elliott the French Canadian (aka Yeti)

Highlights

  • The trail was filled with tons of fresh smelling juniper today, and the berries were everywhere! Too bad they wouldn’t taste good like the blueberries on the AT.
  • Taking in the views of the Mogollon Rim in the distance. It’s amazing what a distinct visual feature this giant escarpment is out here in the Arizona desert.
  • I finally got my new trail shoes in my resupply box. I’ve needed them for a solid 100 miles now and I’m so glad to finally have traction with the ground once again.

Challenges

  • Our early morning wake-up call from a bright headlamp and the frustrating attempts at conversation with “Whaaat??
  • The tread on today’s trail sections were really hit or miss. There was plenty of new trail, but also lots of loose rocks (especially on downhills).
  • I think Mad Max may be done with the AZT. He said he’d meet up with Volt and me once we got to Pine, but so far he’s completely incommunicado.