March 7, 2022
- Start: Sahaurita Trailhead (Mile 104.9)
- End: Boundary to Saguaro Natl Park (Mile 124.4)
- Miles: 19.5
Why do I always end up staying up way too late when I go into town?
Is the clamor of city noises keeping me alert and awake? The hotel air conditioning kicking off and on…the car engines starting up…the voices of neighbors in the next room? Or, is it simply the allure of the internet that beckons me to stay up past midnight watching videos??
And so, I didn’t fall asleep until several hours after I normally might out on the trail. But I still woke with the sun, and was ready to head down to the hotel’s breakfast buffet at dawn.
Yesterday’s fruitless experience trying to get a hitch convinced me that the easiest way back out to the trailhead would be to just grab an Uber again. My hotel was right on the edge of Tucson, so there were plenty of cars available.
My Uber driver turned out to be a really nice lady who grew up in Oregon, so we spent most of the ride chatting about our shared home state. All told, it was a relaxing (albeit more costly) means to get myself back to the trailhead before 8 am. I guess you could say I’m prioritizing expediency over money on the thru-hike.
RATTLESNAKES
The next six miles from the Sahaurita trailhead to the Gabe Zimmerman trailhead was some of the easiest hiking I’ve done sine I started the AZT. The ground was still smooth and (mostly) free of rocks, and the overall elevation gain was negligible.
Mountains curved into a semi-circle to my north, with Mica Mountain and Rincon Peak jutting upward toward the sky. And more directly ahead, across the flat expanse of desert, I could see the vehicle traffic on Interstate 10 steadily driving east toward New Mexico.
After a little over an hour after returning to the trail, I reached the concrete tunnel running under the freeway. Semi-trucks and passenger cars sped above me. Tucked out of sight, most of them had absolutely no clue I there. Or even that they were driving directly above one of our country’s 11 National Scenic Trails.
Several graffiti artists had been there though. They’d tagged the underpass’s entrance with colorful paint. Yet those images weren’t what held my attention. Instead, I was focused on the incredibly dark tunnel, and how it immediately felt about ten degrees colder than the morning air.
As I entered the murky abyss, I began to wonder whether this long passage had rattlesnakes resting inside it. How different was this tunnel it from an underground snake den? It was dark. It was sheltered from the elements. Was I voluntarily putting myself into jeopardy by walking in??
The more I thought about venomous snakes, the more I began to feel the anxiety creeping up. Dammit. I really didn’t want to encounter a rattlesnake in these narrow confines.
I used my cell phone’s flashlight to lead the way and began sweeping it back and forth across my path from one side of the concrete tunnel to the other. Only when I was sure it was safe to walk forward did I take a few hesitant steps.
This absurdly cautious technique is why it probably took me twice the typical amount time to walk through the tunnel. A normal hiker would have just put on their headlamp and hiked. But, not me. I was taking absolutely no chances in this dark. I despite and fear snakes that much!
At the tunnel’s far end, I emerged back into the bright daylight, and that’s when I was met by the only serpent present… a mural of a pit viper painted on the concrete’s northern opening.
Whew! I’d made it through without incident.
As I climbed up out of the sandy wash beyond the tunnel, I spotted a silver passenger train heading east across a large trestle bridge in the distance. It must be one of Amtrak’s southwestern routes running between Phoenix and El Paso.
One of these days, I really would enjoy riding across the country via train. But the U.S doesn’t have the best reputation for long-distance rail travel. We’re not even close to our European or Asian counterparts who’ve invested in high-speed trains over the past 50 years. Instead, we’re still languishing with clunky old passenger car, outdated rail infrastructure, and limited routes once you get outside the East Coast.
I suppose that’s why riding cross-country is still just an idea kicking around the back of my mind instead of a real adventure.
Who is Gabe?
As I walked the next mile or so to the Gabe Zimmerman trailhead, I silently hoped there was a trash can waiting for me in the parking area. I’d snagged a banana from the hotel right before departing, and eaten it as soon as I got dropped off at the trail. But now that meant I was lugging a decaying banana peel along with me, and the peel was only going to get softer and smellier as the day warmed up.
Unfortunately, I’d soon figure out there were zero trash cans at the trailhead. There were close to 15 cars parked nearby. Plus two port-a-potties and one shaded picnic table resting adjacent to the large parking area. But no trash. Not even one for pet waste. Sigh.
Rather than dwelling on the trash situation though, I spent a few moments reading some nearby signs and learning about Gabe Zimmerman. I had no idea who he was or why this trailhead was named in his honor.
As it turns out, Gabe Zimmerman was a Congressional staffer who tragically died in January 2011 when a gunman opened fire on a Safeway parking lot where U.S. Representative Gabby Giffords was meeting with constituents. Zimmerman was just 30 years old, he was just one of the 19 people killed or injured in that particular mass shooting.
I can still remember hearing about this senseless attack right after it happened. I was half a world away serving in Afghanistan at the time, and shocked at the depravity of it all.
I won’t go down the rabbit hole (in this forum) about how I feel about this issue, except to say the gun violence in this country has become a national disgrace!! Every time there’s another mass shooting, I find myself being pushed farther and farther into the camp that’s willing to do something radical to limit gun ownership.
RAILROADS & CACTUS
As I departed the Gabe Zimmerman trailhead, the trail dropped down to a nice, cool creek that was flowing beautifully this morning. The AZT only stayed down in the shady gulch long enough to pass under the railroad trestle I saw earlier. And then I was back up to the exposed landscape and sunshine.
From here, the trail took a sharp turn west and I could see the lovely Santa Rita foothills that I’d come from yesterday. A cathedral arch bridge sat in the foreground, and the desert landscape seemed more lush and green than I remembered.
Beyond this sat another set of elevated railroad tracks barely 20 feet above the AZT. These tracks were owned by Union Pacific Railway, where fast moving freight trains could rumble by at any moment. I didn’t see any trains on the horizon, but the rock guard above me told the dangerous story of what might happen if one suddenly appeared.
The brown metal screen erected above the trail had dozens of rocks resting atop it. Some were the size of eggs. Others were as big as oranges. Imagine if one of those rocks came hurling down from the tracks from a train traveling 60 mph. It could mean a cracked skull!
Thank goodness the Arizona Trail Association advocated for some protection for the hikers walking beneath this hazard!!
Just beyond this set of railroad tracks, I spotted my first saguaro cactus of the the hike. Up until now, most of the cactus have been spindly cholla or small beaver-trail cactus that sat low to the ground. But now, the giant arms of the saguaro cactus towered over me.
The saguaro is the tallest cactus species in the U.S. and can grow to more than 40 feet in height, but they don’t grow fast. It can take a decade for a saguaro to reach 1 inch in height, and another 60 years for them to grow to be 6 feet tall.
What’s more surprising to learn is – these cactus don’t even begin growing arms until they are 50-70 years old, and they can thrive in this warm desert environment for 150-200 years. Thus, the immense cactus (with their multiple arms) near me right now probably began their lives sometime before the U.S. Civil War! That is just mind boggling to think about!
As I took in my amazing surroundings, I crossed paths with a handful of trail runners and mountain bikers. Then the AZT began its gentle winding descent toward the historic La Posta Quemada Ranch.
The name of the ranch (which means ‘burnt station’ in Spanish) refers to the old Butterfield Stagecoach stop that once sat here. The station burned to the ground in the 1860s, and was rebuilt, only to succumb to fire a second time! Hence the name.
These days, La Posta Quemada ranch is part of Colossal Cave Mountain Park, and it houses a stable where visitors can rent horses for trail rides thought the Sonoran Desert. I didn’t see any horses actually out on the trail today, but several signs cropped up cautioning mountain bikers to slow down and stop for equestrians.
COLOSSAL CAVE
I was now well into Colossal Cave Mountain Park, which is one of the more unusual historical sights along the trail. Inside this desert park, there’s a giant underground cave which was rediscovered by a farmer searching for stray cattle in 1879.
The cave became legendary when a group of train robbers used it as a hideout after one of their thefts, and then it became a Hollywood backdrop for a nearly a dozen movies.
These days it’s mostly of a tourist attraction because it’s one of the largest dry caves in North American (meaning visitors can take photos of the stalactite formations).
A number of hiking blogs advised sending a resupply box to Colossal Cave and to avoid the long hitch into Vail. But clearly I hadn’t taken that advice, so I bypassed the cave and the 1-mile uphill detour up to the park headquarters.
This meant I was able to follow the AZT as it meandered through the park’s network of trails. But, if I squinted, I could see the outlines of the massive limestone retaining wall and park headquarters building up on the hillside. Built by the Civilian Conservation Corps back in the 1930s, this unique structure is now listed on the National Register of Historic Places.
Although I didn’t visit the cave, I did take a short side trip down to the La Sevilla picnic area for a late lunch in some patchy shade.
I’d read there was a water spigot where I could easily refill my water bottles, and was pleasantly surprised to find bathrooms for the picnic area too. But the best perk of all? That definitely went to the trash can where I could finally dump my banana peel before it decomposed any further!
Where to Camp
As I ate my lunch, I pulled out my phone to review my hiking goal for today. My current plan was to hike right up to the southern boundary for Saguaro National Park and find a spot to stealth camp tonight.
Saguaro National Park is the first real logistical challenge most AZT hikers face due to the strict camping limitations within the park. There are only three options once hikers make it to this point of the trail:
- Camp somewhere outside the park’s boundaries;
- Try to book an overnight reservation to camp at Grass Shack Campground (8.3 miles into the park); or
- Make an overnight reservation to camp up at Manning Camp (13 miles into the park).
Of course, thru-hikers are at a disadvantage with this reservation system because we can’t really plan ahead or give an exact day when we’ll arrive at the park. Your pace might be faster than expected. Or you might get injured on need a day or two off, which could put you behind schedule.
All this uncertainly with your mileage makes it incredibly difficult to book an online camping reservation before you begin the trail. Usually, you just have to wait until you are a day or two away – and then roll the dice and hope something is available.
Unfortunately, when I looked at the recreation.gov website at the hotel last night, I was out of luck. Grass Shack campground was already completely booked up for the next two weeks! And, honestly, I had no desire to camp up at Manning Camp because it sat up at 8,000’ elevation, which I knew would super cold overnight.
So that left option #1, which was fine with me. I’d rather camp outside the park boundary and get up super early tomorrow morning to hike the 17.5 miles through the entire park in one fell swoop.
Many AZT hikers don’t have the endurance yet to hike the full distance in a single day — especially because traversing the park requires going up and over Mica Mountain in the process. But I was pretty sure I’d be fine. It was only uphill for the first 14.5 miles. With 5,500’ of vertical gain. Piece of cake, right?
MAGIC CAMP
After wrapping up lunch and reviewing my potential water sources for this evening, I was ready to knock out the final 6.6 miles of the day to the park’s southern boundary.
The scenery for the next mile of the park was truly remarkable. The rocks on hills ahead of me seemed to form wavy stripes, and a sign beside the trail informed me these waves were called the Posta Quemada Folds. Apparently the waves reveal the complex geologic forces in the area that shifted the rock back and forth.
Colossal Park park encompasses nearly 2,500-acres of essentially untouched desert, and its where the Chihuahuan Desert interfingers with the Sonoran Desert. This is a veritable crossroads for wildlife migration, and researchers have been able to count more than 100 unique bird species in the park, plus a vast variety of animal and plant species.
I was hoping to spot some of the more unique southern Arizona wildlife during my visit. Perhaps a Gila monster, scorpion, or tarantula. But none of them seemed to appear that afternoon as I hiked farther north through the park. I guess that’s ok — because also avoided seeing any snakes too!
Then, right around 3pm, I suddenly noticed a large camping van, a motorhome, and giant canopy set up in a parking area near mile 120.
It was Jim and Deb Hugo’s “Magic Camp,” just as advertised on the bear back back at Sahaurita trialhead.
When I arrived, the couple was still in the process of setting up for their weeklong trail magic extravaganza, and Jim apologized for not having the grill yet. It was more of a dinner and breakfast operation, he explained.
Nonetheless, they offered to let me make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and grab a cold soda from one of the coolers nearby. Yes please!!
I dropped my pack, and was just settling into camp chair under the canopy tent when two other hikers arrived to join me. The first hiker was Prov – the gal I’d camped next to the night before going in to Patagonia. And the second one was someone completely new to me. His name was Steven, and he’d layered so much white sunscreen on his face that he almost looked like mime! I really wish I’d take a photo of him. It was hilarious.
Prov and Steven grabbed some nearby camp chairs and we quickly began chatting about the last 120 miles of the AZT. Both of them mailed resupply packages to Colossal Cave, and they were pretty unhappy with their experience.
Prov had to go to some sort of postal annex in Vail because her package wasn’t at Colossal Cave. Apparently, the folks at Colossal Cave received so many AZT hiker packages recently that their mail box was completely full and the overflow of packages ended up at some remote location between the Vail post office and Colossal Cave.
Meanwhile, Steven’s package was completely AWOL. It wasn’t at Colossal Cave. It wasn’t at the local post office in Vail. And it wasn’t in the annex either. So he had to get off trail and head to a local grocery store to resupply, which is exactly the situation he’d been hoping to avoid by mailing his resupply box.
I felt really bad for the two of them. Hearing about the Colossal Cave mail drama seemed to validate my own choice to just head into town yesterday. Plus, I’d gotten the added benefit of staying in a hotel, getting a hot shower, and washing my clothes.
The three of us just sat around talking with each other, and Jim and Deb. But, after an hour, I knew it was finally time to pull away from the vortex. I needed to put on my pack again and get moving so I could set up camp before dark.
Steven decided to remain behind and spend the night at Magic Camp. He knew of some hikers just behind him who scored a reservation for Grass Shack tomorrow. So his plan was to left them catch up tonight and he’d join them at their campsite in the national park.
Meanwhile, Prov was headed out with me. She planned to camp just outside the park boundary tonight, and had a reservation for Manning Camp tomorrow. So she wanted to get as far as humanly possible tonight before beginning the major climb in the morning.
And so, I guess I was the only hiker planning to go completely up and over Mica Mountain tomorrow – assuming there aren’t other hikers ahead of us already camped at the park boundary with the same idea.
GEAR FAILURES
As I got up to leave Magic Camp, I tried to take my rain jacket off, but I couldn’t seem to get it unzipped. I knew my rain jacket’s zipper was starting to fail before I’d flown to Arizona, but I really hoped I’d get one more thru-hike out of it.
I’ve had this lightweight jacket since 2014, and I absolutely love it. The manufacturer has long since discontinued the coral-rose color that I love, so I’ve been reluctant to purchase a replacement in any of the boring neutral colors it comes in now.
Unfortunately, each day that I’ve used this jacket on the AZT – whether as my warm up layer in the morning or just to block the wind – the zipper becomes slightly less functional. I’ve had to resort to using duck tape on the bottom to hold it closed, and it can take up to 2-3 minutes to get the zipper up or down adequately.
Jim came over to help me, thinking it was just a matter of the zipper’s slider being out of whack. But it’s a bigger issue than a pair of pliers can fix. The bottom zipper teeth are mangled and bent beyond repair.
After fiddling with the zipper for a few minutes, I finally got it up open and stored my rain jacket in the mesh pocket on the outside of my pack. It was time to thank Jim and Deb for their hospitality and head out. Otherwise, I might never leave.
Prov was several minutes ahead of me now, but I hoped to catch her within the next mile so we could chat some more. I just made it to an AZT gate and stopped to pee when I realized I was missing something. Oh crap! I didn’t have my sun gloves.
I know I had my sun gloves when I was sitting in the camp chair at Magic Camp. And I thought I’d grabbed them when I got up to leave. But my hands were now completely bare and my gloves weren’t stuffed in any of my pack’s outside pockets.
Dammit, I need to be more deliberate with where I put them whenever I stop for breaks and took them off. Now I’ll have to walk back the 0.7 miles to Magic Camp to retrieve them and hope I didn’t get pulled back in the vortex for another hour.
I walked south on the trail almost the entire way back to Jim and Deb’s camp, when I suddenly spotted my gloves sitting on the edge of the trail! I guess I hadn’t forgot them after all. I must have simply tucked them somewhere random when I was struggling with my jacket, and then they fell out during the first few hundred yards of the trail.
Well, at least I didn’t have to walk all the way back. And I was 100% glad they were recovered, because I don’t think I could endure the long days in the Arizona sun without them. My wrists and hands would be completely baked!
And so, with my second gear calamity of the hour resolved, it was time to hike the final 4.2 miles to the southern boundary of Saguaro National Park.
Highlights
- Finding an unexpected trashcan (and toilets) at the picnic area in Colossal Cave park made lunchtime even sweeter!
- Jim & Deb Hugo. Although I was a bit early for the full highlights of Magic Camp, I’m so grateful to see some trail angels out here supporting the AZT hikers.
- Meeting up with Prov again. It’s been five days since I’ve seen a familiar face out here on trail.
Challenges
- Heading through the dark tunnel under I-10 was nerve wracking. I was sure a rattlesnake was going to jump out at me at any moment.
- My jacket is clearly near the end of its lifespan. I sure hope I can made it though the next few weeks of the trail without breaking down and getting a replacement.