The AZT Section 3: Vacationizationing

March 28th: Day 9: Pima Air and Space

Need I remind you that there is nothing wrong with Snakes whatsoever, but that she follows me off trail, into my sick bed as she took a solemn vow to do so. As her reward, and with our new (what we initially thought was huge but actually compared to everyone else’s turned out to be very small) SUV, I took her to the Pima Air and Space museum for a treat.

Those of you who know her personally or for those of you who read the CDT blog, know she has the interests of an 11 year old boy. If you ever find yourself in Tucson, and even if you don’t like Space, the military or planes, you’ll be hard pushed to not be impressed with the museum. They had a full display on Suffolk (where I’m from), they sold giant soft pretzels and, the planes were pretty impressive too. Snakes was in her happy place, and therefore so was I.

From here, we drove 3.5 hours on the awful interstate out of town, North, around Phoenix and into and over the great big mesas of Northern Arizona. Eventually landing in Sedona. The services are somewhat more intense here.

My good pal Hugo asked me 4 times on different occasions if we were going to Sedona on this trip. Each time I told him no. I think he just wanted it so badly for us he kept asking in hope of a different answer. Well, thanks to him for the tip, because it was our second port of call and it was outstanding.

We arrived at 5pm. We learned quickly that a lot of times in the US ‘campground’ or any sign with a tent on it, doesn’t mean you can camp there. Confusing ? I agree. ‘Camping’ usually means in an RV or motor home. We were kicked out of two of these sites on account of a tent not being allowed or considered actual camping. We drove a short way out of Sedona proper to Manzanita campground owned by the forestry commission where actual camping is allowed. However. They were full. We drove around the tiny campground feeling pretty hopless as it was not only beautiful, but our last option.

The campsite host waved us down and I looked helpless and pathetic at him through the window. He had a cancellation. This was about the best thing ever to have happened in the last 72 hours.

We drove back around to pitch 17, right by the river, popped open a little beer, pitched our tiny tent and lit a fire. What more could we have wanted ? Dogs. The campsite was full of dogs.

We ate a sizable bowl of salad and contemplated our AZT future while staring into the flames. There are most certainly worse things, I keep telling myself; but, I won’t hide that I’m distraught at the idea that this long awaited trip has crashed and burned after the first week, and turned into something we’re terrible at. Car tourism. I’m in an absolute majestic treasure of a place, steeped in history, mysticism and gorgeousness and I can’t bloody walk anywhere. Also, they actually really hurt, so just moving into and out of a bloody car is painful.

My knee hurt the worst yet overnight tonight. I am convinced we’ll be heading home before long.

March 29th: Day 10: let’s not talk about it and hope it goes away.

We woke at 7am, next to the sound of the rushing Oak Creek. We made tea. It was nice to slowly greet the day and not have to pack all our things away and immediately starting hiking. I’m clutching at straws here. We’re pretty sad, and the ability to convince ourselves were having fun goes up and down in waves.

We had booked 2 nights here, making the most of that cancellation, and left our tent while we drove back into Sedona West, to slowly work our way back seeing what we could see. I’m not often wowed by anything by car, but Sedona is impressive.

The trouble is, when I see something impressive, I want to go and stroke it. Sedona was surprisingly rammed full of folks ‘recreationing’ all over the place by car, so all the parking spots, overlooks and trailheads were full. Sedona provides a free trailhead shuttle service to hike from, but I can’t do that. For the old woman (me) who just wants to get out of the car and amble up a path and back for 10 painful minutes, there was no room. It was utter torture.

Eventually having had enough of the main drag that runs through the centre of town, and not being able to park anywhere, we spontaneously pulled off down a side road and drove the narrow lanes past the beautiful adobe houses, all the way to the end of the road, which was, conveniently a cemetery. From here, we could park, pay our respects to our long lost Arizonian relative, then take a quick stroll on a beautiful red trail up the hill until I could go no more.

The balance between resting so I may actually be able to continue this trip, and pushing it a bit so I can actually enjoy these few days which may be our last here, is tricky.

We collected firewood on the way back, so as not to pay for it at the campsite. Snakes instructed me to dump what I’d collected on the ground outside the hire car so she could assess it for dust and neatly assemble a stack of it in the boot without incurring the damage that I, if left to my own devices would be sure to incur.

Being that this is the land of healing and mysticism, we went, once again to an acupuncturist. Of which there were about 90 to choose from.

My top pick, with the best reviews, Robert, was fully booked for 2 weeks. Good for him. He was clearly the guy who could have fixed my knee. He recommended another guy, who we visited to find out he was also booked for 2 weeks. Excellent. He, recomened me Robert.

Given that there were so many acupuncturists in town, this didn’t leave me feeling great about my other options. The 3rd attempt, selected at random and absolutely not for her picture on Google, could fit me in tomorrow morning. Should I be worried that she’s not booked for 2 weeks?

Should I be worried that its called ‘Amazing Acupuncture’? The price was almost double of that in Tucson. I decided to visit them and get a feel for the place.

On arrival, they decided they could actually fit me in there and then. 50% elated, 50% why could they suddenly fit me in?

I decided the process was worth it if there was a chance we could finish our trip and hike more of the trail. The receptionists seemed like normal, nice humans and the new patient protocol was a). Required (unlike the last place) and b). Robust. So much so that working through the 18 forms on the ipad, I answered the same question multiple times.

The experience was pretty ridiculous. And while a lot of it verged heavily on unprofessional, worrying, laughable and mildly rude, they (I had the 2 practitioners working on me, together, at speed, arguing over who would continue to treat me and who would go and treat the old lady in the waiting room). They put 40 needles in me, stuck some electricity through them, put heat lamps on me, rubbed in some gel, burned me with mugwort snuff and tried to sell me (relentlessly and aggressively) some very expensive after treatment (the receptionist just secretly gave me some as I left and told me not to tell anyone). So I think I got the full works. This really is the last shot.

We drove home to our little camp spot in the valley. We lit a fire and cooked all manner of vegetables on it. It was delicious. We’re certainly starting to feel more positive, thought we’ve absolutely no reason to yet.

March 30th: Day 11: Jerome. The wickedest Town in the West.

In the early hours of the morning, it begun to hail on us. The weather, as we know, is being weird everywhere, but Grand Canyon National Park are asking where they can get a refund on spring as they enter their second winter. More and more AZT hikers are getting off trail due to injury and weather. Which, I’m sorry to say, makes me feel better.

We packed up and drove to Jerome, founded in 1876 it was once a booming copper, gold and lead mining town. Once a thriving mining camp full of miners, bootleggers, gamblers, and madam’s, its now know for being Americas biggest ghost town.

We drove out of town to the small community of Clarkdale as we were overdue laundry, Snakes was overjoyed at “having it to ourself’. I found a very flattering pair of dense American Jeans and a man’s discarded bleach stained top to wear in the loaner clothes box, while Snakes stuck to her waterproof trousers and puffy as she said she could wee in them, and no one would notice.

We went back to Jerome to check in to Connor Hotel for a much needed shower. Big fat soapy thanks to my amazing parents for the night in this hotel, we both really appreciate smelling better and looking a little less disgusting.

March 31st: Day 12: Alcantara

We left Jerome after a last wander about to the sliding Jail. The original town jail which has slid 200ft downhill since it was first built.

We drove south. Popping in to Cottonwood for breakfast and Alcantara vineyard on the way. We didn’t want to pay for a tour, as Snakes couldn’t think of anything more boring. Instead, while walking around the vineyard Snakes gave me a full tour herself. For anyone that didn’t know a single thing about vines or wine production, it would be an extremely convincing tour. She didn’t flinch when describing how the ‘foundlings’ are planted, the ‘productisation’ of the wine after fermentation, the galvinisation process, and the ‘Exit’ vines, being the older vines, on their way out, 4-6 years old.

We arrived back in Tucson. Tucson which we don’t seem to be able to leave. I got word nearly everyone I know on trail has quit, due to injury, being over the hardship or weather. This was encouraging.

We’re going to give it a chuck. My knee is still twingey, but that second treatment has improved it to the point that I’m not walking weirdly any more and the pain has definitely reduced. There is a huge dump of snow in the North, so this works well for us taking it slowly, reducing the mileage and seeing how it goes.

We resupplied for the next section and for the second box we need to send up the trail. (Optomistic, but necessary if this works out).

We managed to organise a lift back to the trail with a woman, Vicki heading to where we needed to be, as she was going to collect her husband (who was quitting due to injury). She’d pick us up tomorrow when we drop the car drop off.

Our good pal JulieWhite (all one word) very generously booked us a room in a hotel in Tucson with her proper job hotel points. Thanks JulieWhite!

Next time you hear from me, we’ll either be back in our happy place, successfully continuing this trip, or working out how to get home. Thanks so much for all the good knee vibes so far, I appreciate them.