March 3, 2022
- Start: Canelo Hills Trailhead (Mile 34)
- End: TerraSol/Patagonia (Mile 49.5)
- Miles hiked: 15.5 miles (+ 2 non-AZT miles to resupply)
I fell asleep last night camped near Prov – a female hiker from Minneapolis who hiked the northern 500 miles of the AZT last fall. Unfortunately, we didn’t spend too much getting to know each other though. She was planning to get up early this morning and I was simply too tired to be social.
Prov wasn’t lying when she said she wanted to get an early start. She was packed up and on the trail by 5:30 am – nearly an hour before sunrise. Wow! Color me impressed.
Like Prov, I had a resupply package waiting for me at the post office in Patagonia. But the post office is only open Monday to Friday, and it closes early on the weekdays. Consequently, I made sure I was hiking by 6:45 am just to be safe. If I didn’t arrive before they close at 4 pm, I’ll be stuck waiting until 9 am tomorrow for another chance.
COWS
The first thing I noticed on the trail was how the morning was that nice and cool again. Not nearly as brisk as it had been yesterday up in Sunnyside Canyon. But it was cold enough to be considered “pants weather.” And after sunburning my calves yesterday, these long pants were going to be my new attire – no matter how warm it got. I didn’t need to burn my skin any worse than it already was.
My second observation was that the trail was pretty gentle today. There were some short climbs and rolling hills, but no major ascents to endure. And as I strolled through the ribbon of dirt winding its way through the tall yellow grass, I could see dozens of cows grazing up on the hillsides.
Even if I hadn’t spotted the cows, I definitely would have known they were nearby. There were hundreds of cow patties dotting every flat area I could see beside the trail. It felt as if I was walking through a massive bovine bathroom all morning long.
Up ahead, my first water source of the day was Down Under Tank. Unfortunately, this muddy tank was even worse looking than the one I’d had to filter from last night. The water was a deep brown and there were literally cow patties touching the edge of the water. Yuck!
I didn’t want to have to take water from this tank if there was any other option. So I briefly stopped to scan my map to see where the next water source might be.
There were some notes about a Cott Tank just another 1.6 miles further up the trail. It was described as a metal water tank with a solar pump and spigot. This sounded like a much better option than this muddy, feces-filled tank! But the notes also said Cott Tank was “unreliable,” and that it needed full sun for the pump to work.
I checked to see that I still had nearly half a liter of water left in my bottle. I wasn’t in dire straits yet. I’d take my chances and keep walking.
WATER WOES
I made it to Cott Tank around 8:30 am and was greeted by two metal tanks sitting beside a post with solar panels. The first tank was completely rusted out and filled with bullet holes. But the second tank seemed promising.
Unfortunately, nothing came out of the spigot when I turned it on. I guess it was still too early in the day to begin working. There must not be enough sunshine in the overcast sky above. Damn!
The next available water source was “Red Bank Well” just another mile away. The notes in FarOut indicated that the water was flowing at the well. But they also described the water source as having a “somewhat bad taste.” With no water here, though, I guess I’d soon find out exactly how bad Red Bank Well tasted…
As I started down the trail, I could see a sign for Cott Tank Enclosure up ahead. The AZT made a sharp right turn here, but a dark red sign near a barbed-wire stile just up the hill (in the opposite direction) caught my attention. I went over to check out the sign more closely, and that’s when I spotted a faint footpath heading down to some nice cool pools of water!
Holy moly!
I didn’t need the spigot at the Cott Tank or the “bad tasting” water from the upcoming well. There was perfectly good water right down this little side trail. I bet 99% of hikers make the right turn and walk right past here with no clue there’s a stealthy seasonal water source nearby. Score!!
COWS – PART II
After filtering three liters of water and leaving a note in the FarOut App telling other hikers about this “secret” water source, I worked my way back to the AZT. This next stretch of the trail was filled with tons of mama cows and spring calves everywhere I looked.
The sheer volume of cows today left me a bit apprehensive. I don’t tend to get overly concerned about cattle when I’m out hiking. I just clack my poles together to let them know I’m there and usually they’ll move away as I get closer.
But these were mama and babies – a duo I tend to give a wide berth to, regardless of the species. I didn’t want the heifers to see me coming and get overly protective of their nursing babies. I wasn’t a predator, and I didn’t want any aggressive cows charging me because of some maternal instinct.
As a result, I took it slow whenever I saw cows standing on (or immediately adjacent to) the trail. I tried to make a ton of noise so I didn’t startle them. And I spent more than a few minutes waiting for some of them to move (or just simply boxing around them).
As the number of cows eventually thinned out, I passed a windmill and another water tank. It was incredibly picturesque set against the red rock hills behind it, and I knew had to stop to take some photos.
It’s vistas like this one that make my hiking adventures so enjoyable. Here I am in the backcountry. I’m completely alone and surrounded by scenery that should be on a calendar. The Arizona Trail is just stunning, and I’m so glad I chose to hike the trail this year!
NEW TRAIL
Overall the trail was pretty easy walking today, and I was making good time. I’d make it into Patagonia in plenty of time to pick up my resupply box from the post office. Despite the mild terrain though, I was developing some more blisters on my feet. I’d taped up the one blister on the ball of my foot last night, but now I was getting a new blister on the outside of my right heel.
I’d genuinely thought my feet were well-conditioned and toughened up from all the training I did this winter. But these rocks and the dry, soft sand were making my shoes rub in completely different spots than they did on the moist dirt of the Pacific Northwest.
About 10 miles into my day, I encountered a random sign in the middle of a field. It was put there by the Arizona Trail Association to inform hikers about their plans to re-route the trail. Instead of heading to the existing Harshaw Road trailhead, the ATA was building 32 new miles of trail to bypass all the paved and dirt roadwalking in and around Patagonia and Walker Basin.
When this new section of the AZT eventually opens in 2023, it’s supposed to make this stretch of the trail more enjoyable and scenic. But it also will divert hikers 4.3 miles north of Patagonia instead of taking them right through it as the trail does now.
That future change might seem like a downside for a lot of AZT hikers looking forward to town. But then again, we already have to walk nearly three miles on a paved road to get to Patagonia on the existing AZT. Once this alternate is open, it will probably be easier to just get a hitch into town from the trailhead they are building Highway 82 instead of the desolate Harshaw Road trailhead hikers currently have to use.
As I pondered this change, my mind shifted back to Patagonia. I was still debating whether to stay in town tonight or move on this afternoon. I didn’t want to book a room at the sole hotel in town, which was charging $150/night. But also there weren’t a good deal of alternatives for stealth camping on either side of town.
As it’s currently routed, the AZT takes hikers into Patagonia on a paved road with private land lining either side of it. On the opposite side of town, the route out is a mix of paved and dirt forest roads all the way until the Temporal Gulch Trailhead – a full seven miles later. So I knew there might be slim pickings for camping today.
As I scrolled through my FarOut App, I noticed there seemed to be a brand-new campground in Patagonia catering to hikers and cyclists. The place was called TerraSol and only cost $20 – a relative steal compared to the hotel in town. It was located only 0.5 miles east of town too, making my resupply trip very walkable if I stayed there.
The notes in the campground’s description told me to text Mary for availability. As soon as I had cell service I would see if she still had availability tonight so I could call it an early day and stop there. If not, I guess I’d cross that bridge when I got there…
As I stopped for lunch near a dry wash filled with soft sand and boulders, I toggled my phone out of airplane mode. One bar of service. I texted Mary and crossed my fingers that the message went through.
Minutes later, a return text appeared on my screen. Mary replied that she still had plenty of space and asked for my ETA. She planned to head down to the border town of Nogales to pick up some supplies, but she assured me someone would be there to greet me and check me in whenever I arrived.
Score! I had a place to stay tonight.
Knowing I had somewhere to camp (and likely a shower too) put a real spring in my step. I was no longer focused on the blisters on my feet or the rocks on the trail. My mind was 100% focused on town. And eating pizza. Picking up my resupply box. And getting some aloe vera for my sunburned legs. Town, town, town!
PATAGONIA
Once I reached the Harshaw Road trailhead, all that remained was the 2.7-mile road walk to Patagonia. The exposed roadwalk was hot in the mid-afternoon sun, and there were a ton of cyclists out riding up and down the road. Only later would I learn (from Mary) that Patagonia is an up-and-coming cycling destination, particularly in the winter months when the days are warm and sunny.
TerraSol was right on the way to town, so I made a brief stop and dropped my pack off. What a relief! I immediately felt so much lighter!
A hiker named Nightcrawler was doing a work-for-stay at the campground and took me around, showing me where I’d camp for the night and where everything was located.
TerraSol was still pretty rustic. This was its first year in business, and Mary was just getting it off the ground. Nonetheless, there were picnic tables in the shade and places to set up tents on sawdust and wood chips. There was also a makeshift shower that pulled heated water from buckets, so I availed myself of that wonderful amenity, before setting off on the short walk into town.
Like many of the AZT gateway communities, Patagonia is a tiny little speck of a town. It’s just a few blocks wide. But that was fine with me. I was on foot and didn’t need to be traipsing any extra miles around town, even without my full pack.
Once I got to the post office, the clerk cheerfully handed me a guest book to sign, and I could see that Prov was the only other hiker to pick up a package that day. That wasn’t too surprising. It was still pretty early in the hiking season, and I knew there weren’t many others ahead of me – even before I saw the log listing out their names.
Truthfully, I didn’t need to mail myself any resupply boxes on the AZT. The trail goes near a town every 3-6 days. But, I’m trying to maintain a mostly vegetarian diet while hiking because I have high cholesterol. As such, I mailed myself vegetarian dinners (like my favorite dehydrated refried beans) and a few other staples that might be more challenging to find in a small trail town.
And now I needed to visit the two local stores – Red Mountain Foods and Patagonia Market – to buy my lunches, snacks, and breakfast items for the upcoming 60-mile stretch to Vail.
I was pleasantly surprised to discover that Patagonia Market was a much better resupply option than I expected. The people working there were super nice and hiker-friendly. Plus, they had fresh tortillas (in the refrigerator case) and even some individually wrapped Tillamook cheese snacks, which are my absolute favorite!
On the way back to TerraSol, I stopped at the Velvet Elvis pizzeria to order a pizza for dinner. Then I walked carefully back to TerraSol with my arms precariously filled with my resupply box, all my newly purchased grocery items, and a hot pizza box. I had so many food choices, it was unreal!
Back at the campground, I finally met Mary in person. Then I introduced myself to a young Canadian couple hiking the AZT for a month. And to an older couple from Michigan who was out section hiking in their van.
Mary had an outdoor kitchen set up so people could cook, and everyone settled in under the shade of the patio cover to sit around eating dinner and talking. It was a nice group of people and the vibe was very relaxed. Just like a hiker-biker camp should be.
As the sun started to set, Mary warned us all to store our food in a shed nearby rather than sleeping with it in our tents. Wild javelinas roamed the area and occasionally ran through her campground.
I’ve never seen javelinas, which are a boar-like mammal native to the American deserts. They can grow up to 50-55 pounds and often like to travel in groups. And, while javelinas are herbivores, they are a bit like raccoons in that they have no problem foraging for scraps in people’s trash and making a nuisance of themselves.
THIS AIN’T INSTAGRAM
After dinner, I returned to my tent to do a bit of journaling when I heard a bunch of loud voices chattering. It was completely dark now and most of the hikers were still over at the outdoor kitchen, so I grabbed my headlamp and walked over to see what all the hubbub was about.
When I arrived, I spotted a new hiker in our midst. It was the guy I’d seen back near Parker Lake wearing the shemagh to cover up from the sun. The scarf was wrapped around his ankle now and he had his foot elevated on an overturned bucket. Just then, Mary came out with a bag of Trader Joe’s frozen peas and put it on his elevated ankle while he continued to talk.
The new guy was just starting to repeat his story to the benefit of the other hikers. He said he was 10 miles from town today when he heard something in his ankle snap. He said he knew this was bad, but he slowly limped to the trailhead at Harshaw Road, then stumbled his way to TerraSol.
The new hiker said he’d broken his ankle once before while in high school, and he was concerned it might be broken again. Even if it wasn’t, he knew he was definitely way too injured to hike any further. He was calling his wife in Phoenix to pick him up tomorrow so he could go home and see a doctor. His thru-hike was over!
As the new hiker went on and on, his story didn’t seem to add up. Bones don’t just snap while you’re hiking along. But, whatever. This was his story, not mine.
As he continued to revel in the storytelling spotlight, this new hiker began to tell everyone how sad he was to have to get off the trail. He’d taken two months of vacation from his job to do this hike. And once he got off the trail, he’d have all this extra vacation time to kill.
Then he suddenly veered in an unexpected direction and began musing aloud how he’d probably just use the extra vacation time to take his kids to Disneyland. And if he was in a wheelchair to accommodate his ankle injury, they might even get to go to the front of the line instead of waiting like everyone else…
You could just see his mind churning with all the possibilities. I’ve never seen anyone quite so gleeful to be injured. Getting off trail after 50 miles was making him positively giddy.
Now, I’m not saying the hiker didn’t have some sort of overuse or soft tissue injury. But a broken ankle seemed highly unlikely to me. And his excitement to have an excuse to stop hiking was almost palpable.
In reality, I suspect this guy discovered over the last 50 miles that thru-hiking a long trail is really hard work. It’s not as magical and fun as the people on YouTube make it out to be. You spend the majority of your day completely alone. The terrain and elements are often harsh and uncomfortable. And hiking with 25 pounds on your back for 15 to 25 miles a day is work. It’s not nearly as glamorous as social media makes it seem online.
And with that, I went back to my tent to get some sleep. This guy might be off the trail tomorrow, but I had a big day ahead of me.
Highlights
- I got lucky today. I was able to avoid the nasty cattle ponds, dry metal tanks, and some supposedly bad tasting well water when I discovered a seasonal stream near Cott Tank.
- The views of that windmill against the red rock cliffs this morning was so picturesque. I’m elated to be hiking the AZT. The scenery is just superb.
- Patagonia was a lovely town that met all my hiker needs: a hiker-biker campground, tasty pizza, a good market, and even some beer!
Challenges
- I had to be extra careful today with all the mama cow and their babies. I don’t want to get trampled by an overprotective cow out here.
- Biting my tongue when the injured hiker started sharing his post-trail plans. I wish more people in this community could be honest and just admit thru-hiking is hard. There’s no need to come up with an “injury” to justify wanting to get off trail.