March 6, 2022
- Start: Random trail junction (Mile 92.3)
- End: Sahaurita Road Trailhead (Mile 104.9)
- Miles hiked: 12.6 miles
The steady wind blowing across at my campsite didn’t die down after dark like I’d hoped. It was windy all night long, with frequent gusts frantically snapping my nylon tent fly. This lasted until 4:30 am, when the weather suddenly transitioned. The wind ceased almost entirely, and it was replaced by freezing rain.
I listened to the tiny icy stones pelting my tent and desperately hoped the storm would end before I had to get up and walk this morning. Being cold is one thing. Being cold and wet can be down right miserable.
Even with the freezing rain and hail swirling around my tent, it was still warmer than last night’s katabatic adventure in Fish Canyon. I didn’t ever have to pull my buff over my face even once to trap in the warmth. And, more importantly, my water didn’t freeze in any of my water bottles.
Shortly after 6:00 am, the rain pushed out, and I was treated to a sublime sunrise in between the layers of long stratus clouds. This little spot up on the ridge really was a special campsite. I’m glad I was able to snag it and enjoy the views completely to myself.
In fact, the only real issue I had with the particular campsite was the soil. The ground immediately under my tent was pretty flat and level, but everything else up on the ridge super hard and rocky. This little hurdle made it incredibly difficult to dig a cathole when nature called the morning.
And then, as I “took care of my business,” I had two curious cows staring at me from about 150 yards away. It was unnerving to be watched the entire time. It felt like they were trying to make eye contact. But at least they kept their distance and didn’t wander over to see what was happening. Now that would have been awkward!
TRANSITION COMING
After a leisurely breakfast, I was all packed up and hiking again by 7:45 am. The morning was still cold enough that I needed my rain jacket as an extra layer to keep warm as I started, yet I doubted I’d be wearing it too long today.
As I trod north, the terrain was filled with lots of little ups and down. The large blisters on my feet felt better with the Compeed bandages I’d scored from Cooper’s trial magic yesterday. However, the soles of my feet were still so tender from all the rocks.
As I shifted my attention from my feet to my surroundings, I noticed something new today. All the birds seemed to be serenading me. I don’t really have the ear for identifying birds, but according to the Tucson Audubon Society, southern Arizona is home to tons of them.
Right now, I’m kind of regretting that I didn’t downloaded some sort of visual “birding cheatsheet” to help keep track of what was around me. Today’s robust activity would have probably been a bonanza, if only I’d known what to look for.
By 9am, the sun was finally high enough in the sky to force me to pack my jacket away. As I climbed more small hills, the cactus, with its beaver-tail like pads lined the trail in thick clusters and ahead of me.
Today, I would transition from the Santa Rita foothills down to flat Sonoran Desert southeast of Tucson. I’d seen this stark geographic transformation from Mt. Wrightson two days ago. And now I was heading right toward it, and eagerly anticipating the flatness that lie ahead.
But first up, I needed to pass Twin Tanks, the two cattle ponds that served as the major water source between last night’s campsite and the Sahaurita Trailhead. As I neared this water source, I checked my bottles to see how much precious water I had left.
I still had 1.5 liters of filtered water from the shallow pools yesterday afternoon. If I was careful, it should be enough to allow me bypass this shared cattle water source and get to the town without filling up.
The first of the twin tanks was just an empty mud pit with no water whatsoever in it. Meanwhile, the second tank was like a small lake. Its water didn’t look nearly as brown as most of the cattle tanks I’d seen thus far on the AZT. But I convinced myself to keep walking. I probably had enough to get me to the trailhead this afternoon… and water was heavy.
Finally, MILE 100
As I climbed another hill, I saw an AZT gate waiting for me. This one was different in that it had a ramp next to it so mountain bike uses didn’t have to open and close the gate. Instead, cyclists and pedestrians could just walk (or ride) up and over the metal rungs that formed a ramp or bridge.
Cows don’t have the physical dexterity to walk on the rungs, so these ramps serve as a sort of cattle guard that block their egress. Honestly though, I’m kind of surprised some rogue cow hasn’t figured out how to simply jump over the bike ramps and make a break for freedom.
Barely ten minutes after the ramp, I was passing the 100th mile of my AZT thru-hike. Just six days ago, Mike and Angi were driving me to the southern terminus to begin this journey. And now here I am! Mile 100!
I looked around for something marking this milestone, but couldn’t spot a thing.
Often, on long trail like this, hikers will make small monuments to commemorate the achievement. Some sort of makeshift marker for other hikers who’ll pass by that year.
On other trails, I saw these markers fabricated out of rocks, sticks, sea shells, or sometimes just drawn into the ground with a trekking pole. But I didn’t spot a single one over the next half mile. Perhaps the handful of hikers ahead of me hadn’t made one yet.
And so, as soon as I found a flattish area beside the trail, I stopped and made one myself. I gathered up some rocks littering the side of the trail, and then built a hasty tribute to mile 100. Now all the other NOBO thru-hikers behind me would have something to celebrate their accomplishment!
RIDERS
Once I passed the 100-mile mark, I only had five miles left to walk until the Sahaurita Trailhead where I’d planned to hitch into town. Less than two hours more, and I’d be there.
And the closer I got to the trailhead, the more the traffic on trail seemed to pick up. Half a dozen mountain bikers zoomed toward me as they headed out for their weekend ride. Then a horseback rider trotted up behind me nearly startling the bejeezus out of me.
The trail tread transitioned from the hard rock of the past six days to a smoother, sandier trail. And while this meant I was now kicking dust up in the air as I walked, the change to soft ground felt lovely under my sore feet.
I wanted to stop for a quick lunch around noon, but there was little vegetation to shield me from the sun now directly overhead. After 20 minutes of searching in vain for some shade, I concluded the best option was a bit of spindly ocotillo, and that wasn’t much. So, I eventually just dropped my pack on the side of the trail and pulled out my sun umbrella. It would have to do.
As I sat and tried to pull together some sort of lunch from the limited choices left in my food bag, I could see the woman riding the horse coming back in my direction. The open desert landscape gave me enough fair warning this time. I was even able to get my camera out in time to capture a photo of them as they went by.
And then it was time to pack up and hike the remaining few miles.
WHO’S Up AHEAD?
When I arrived at the Sahaurita Trailhead, I was greeted by another metal podium with a trail register inside. There were a few more day hiker’s names, but it was essentially the names of the same crew of people who’d been ahead of me at Kentucky Camp.
What I found helpful this time around was to check out the dates when the other hikers passed by. Today was March 6th, and only one other AZT thru-hiker had come through before – someone named Leah.
I scanned my finger further up the register. Cheez-It, Salsa, and Ratio had come through yesterday (March 5th). And Carlisle, Dennis, Frauke, Helium, and Yoda had all come through the prior day (March 4th).
Ok, I should definitely be catching up to some of them soon. Stopping in Vail tonight and getting a hotel after a short 12.6-mile day wasn’t going to allow me to catch them quickly. But I’m sure we’ll cross paths as soon as I get my trail legs and begin to ramp up my mileage.
So far, I’m enjoying hiking the trail solo. I like having the freedom to speed up or slow down as my body needs it. But, I also miss being able to talk to people too. So I wouldn’t mind catching up to some of them soon.
As I closed the register, I saw a metal bear box nearby. I was now down to less than 0.5 liter of water and was hoping I might find a public water cache inside the box. But no such luck.
There were just three one-gallon water bottles sitting inside the bear box. But all of them were clearly marked with the name of other hikers they belonged to and had an ETA written on them. They were all hikers behind me. Oh well, I’d be in town soon enough.
As I latched the box and started to walk away, I noticed a yellow sign taped to its side announcing something called “Magic Camp” in just 16 miles. It looked like someone name Jim was going to be doing some trail magic up ahead for an entire week!
But Magic Camp didn’t start until tomorrow, March 7th. Maybe I’d swing by after I got back on trail.
Heading to TOWN
As I’d soon discover, the Sahaurita Trailhead was a less than ideal place to catch a ride into Vail. It was right at the junction of Sahaurita Road and the Sonorita Highway, but the trailhead was awkwardly aligned with the traffic.
The AZT parking area was on Sahaurita Road, but there were two problems: (1) there wasn’t a lot of actual vehicle traffic on that road; and (2) the road came to a junction with at the highway just about 100 yards away, but most of the traffic was turning south this afternoon instead of north.
Meanwhile, the traffic on Sonorita Highway (the road that actually went into Vail) was quite robust. But it was also traveling at 55-65 mph, and there was no shoulder for cars to pull over and give hitchhikers a ride.
The highway wasn’t exactly safe to roadwalk on this highway either given those conditions. I had no intention of roadwalking the 7.5 miles into Vail with such a high probability of a fast-moving, inattentive driver colliding into me. Nope.
After spending 35 minutes trying to get a ride on Sahaurita road (and being completely ignored by some mountain bikers who returned to their car and simply drove off), I decided to see if I had cell service.
Sure enough, I did. And even better, I even could even get an Uber into town!
I’d originally planned to head to the Safeway grocery store in Vail to resupply before heading to a hotel. But, I soon discovered there were no hotels was anywhere near the grocery store. The closest one was a Hampton Inn, another 9.3 miles west of Vail on Interstate 10. And so, I made a last minute decision to have the Uber driver take me to the Walmart that was just up the road from the hotel instead.
This turned out to be a big mistake! The Walmart absolutely sucked. The grocery section didn’t have half the food items I was looking for, and I ended up having to finish my resupply at the Flying J convenience store next to the hotel.
Sigh. Live and learn, I guess.
At least the hotel was awesome! I had somewhere to take a shower and rinse all the desert grime and sweat off my body. There was a laundry machine where I could wash my stinky hiking clothes. And I could sprawl out on the incredibly soft bed, eat delicious town food, and rest my weary feet until tomorrow.
HIGHLIGHTS
- The freezing rain ended in perfect time for me to appreciate a gorgeous sunrise this morning
- I passed mile 100 of my thru-hike today! Woohooo!
- I definitely enjoyed resting in a nice soft bed and eating tons of town food
CHALLENGES
- The sides of feet are so sore from all the rocks. Let’s hope the next 100 miles are a bit easier.
- The Walmart was one of the crappiest resupply stops I’ve done on any trail. In hindsight, I should have got to Safeway in Vail instead.
- After my shower, I can clearly see that I’m so sunburned. My face, the tops of my ears, and my calves are awfully red. Thank goodness for aloe vera and lotion.