The AZT: Section 6: Payson to Pine

April 11th: Day 23. Leaving Payson. Hotter than the sun.

I checked in with our chai wallah at 7.30am, he sent me this:

Then he (Blink) soon arrived with coffee and donuts. We meggeled for a short while then began packing our bits and pieces. Blink had already packed, and, seeing as his pack is about the size of a 5 year old’s primary school rucksack, it didn’t take him long. 

Our tiny ultra marathon runner friend, Margret soon arrived to collect us, but not before our slight hesitation on leaving after finding out that today would be 99°F/37°C. Dang.

Margret drove us the 30 minutes up the road, having already done her morning run and before opening up the shop. What a hero.

We waved our goodbyes and she agreed to go and seek out Tick Tock and Camel who’d just messaged us saying they’d arrived at the trailhead on the opposite side of the highway having hiked South from where we are headed. Sadly we didn’t get to see them, but at least they didn’t have to get a hitch with a possible weirdo or get arrested, like we did. We did bump into MBF though! Our selfie didn’t come out but he took this pic of us.

The heat was immediate. It was 9.30am and felt as hot as noon. Our packs were the heaviest yet and I could already smell myself again.

We snaked up undulating chapperel with a general trend of uphill, which would get progressively steeper throughout the day.

The heat today was a serious business. We absolutely had to take this seriously so as not to perish.

Snakes was soon looking like she was perishing.

Luckily, as we head further north, we enter the land of the Ponderosa Pines and, every once in a while there is shade. Without that, we’d have to break out the umbrellas we’ve carried and barely used since Mexico. We stopped often. Luckily water was never far and we dipped hats, soaked shirts and wet our heads. We rested in the shade and drank water. Neither of us were remotely hungry but I ate my massive jalapeño bagel with cheese, tomatoes and tofu just to reduce my ridiculous pack weight.

Before long we met Zinc and Half n’ Half who we yo’yo’d for the remainder of the day. They were funny and I immediately liked them.

The air was thick and hot, I felt like I was eating and digesting every breath, and it wasn’t digesting well. I began to feel pretty sick as we launched (slowly) up a steep exposed climb. Nearing a false summit, a lone pine stood with clear space to sprawl out underneath, as we arrived Zinc and H&H left making way for us to collapse underneath.

A large proportion of our on trail chat has been us thinking of cat names. We seemed to have settled on a pattern of passing back and fourth, the first and last names of people we know, with ‘the cat’ tagged on the end. We find this hilarious and it can go on for quite some time.

But, mainly we focus in silence, it takes all our energy to not trip and fall. A huge part of the reason I like walking is that it allows me to drift off into my past, dwelling on memories and people, and future fantasy too. This trail has barely allowed that, for it is too demanding of my complete concentration on where to best place my foot. Step after step after step. Its exhausting.

Eventually we came to a clearing, a beautiful campsite with a flowing stream through it. We bathed our feet, collected more water and chatted with our new acquaintances. We were only 12 miles in. It had been a slow day. But, 1200m of accent in 37° heat, I think warrants a ‘well done’, don’t you?

We geared up for 5 or so more miles, we wanted to get most of the way up the next climb and finish it tomorrow.

The sun was setting and I took an obligatory picture. It was pretty, but I was far to exhausted to care. Snakes was perishing once again. We filled up water at a trickle of an old wash, and made it to 1.5 miles before the top where there was a suitable flat square spot.

Today was the hardest yet. Steep but not the steepest, long, but not the longest. It was the hottest so far and my goodness did that take it out of us and slow us down.

‘Tub time’ was not to be missed and even with our limited water we could have a good wipe down. We felt so much better for it too.

Darkness came quickly as it was 7pm when we stopped. We decided to set an early alarm as tomorrow could be as brutal as today. It was warm enough we decided to cowgirl Camp as the morning routine would be quick and easy without a tent. We ate noodles, rounded off with some M&M’s and went to bed. The stars were bright tonight.

17 miles on the day

April 12th: Day 24:

We woke to the same bright stars and a big moon had risen too.  It was 4am. We’d both rather not, but knew we’d be grateful for the early start if today was to be as hot as yesterday.

We finished the 1.5 mile climb from yesterday,  passed H&H and Zincs tent near the top. They slept on as we smugly crept by. Down gentley now, but straining to avoid rocks by the light of my head torch. I tripped and fell. We’re both exhausted and pretty over this now.

The sunrise was nice enough, it was light enough to turn the torch off by 5. We had another climb from here and made a few miles of it before stopping for breakfast. Via coffee sachets are the highlight of my life right now.

The trail is more often than not, overgrown with overhanging shrubs. Every living thing in the desert is either poisonous or aggressively spikey. To avoid the overhanging death plants you must slow down (yet more than we were already to avoid rock spills) and carefully pass through using poles as a barrier. After some time this gets tedious enough that just ploughing on through them is preferred. Allowing each branch you come in to contact with to take a souvenir of your skin.

After breakfast, we completed the climb and followed a ridge, loosely on the west side in shade (one redeeming feature of the day) for some miles. We completed 10 miles by 9.30am and had a much needed pause to soak feet and replenish water at 11.5 miles.

Thankfully it isn’t as hot as yesterday, though were still grateful of our early start. 3 more miles and a funnel of boulders now painfully bashing our soles and our souls every which way and the sheltered campsite promised was not appearing. We nestled under a less than perfect shade tree avoiding cactuses for lunch and a much needed moan about our feet.

After just over an hour which flew by in seemingly less than that, we moved on. The beauty of starting so early, is: many more breaks, but, if the trail wasn’t such a bastard we wouldn’t need them.

We went on for 2 more hours, ascending up a boulder field, the miles ticking over slower than I would have liked. Tea at three, such a welcome treat, hydration and a milky feeling of fondness and warmth from home.

Onward to finish the climb, a beautiful view at the top and the longest mile of my life on the descent. We collected water at the bottom, and walked a short 0.2 miles on to camp. A spot called ‘The Park’. Multiple flat spots among pine. There were a number of other tents there when we arrived and more hikers came out of nowhere not long after we got there. All of whom were far too chirpy and loud.

21.1 miles on the day

April 13th: Day 25: My feet hurt

Another early start, but after a much longer sleep we were ready for it. We packed up as quietly as we could under red lights and left by 5am.

It was a cooler morning. Moving through the dark, the eyes of hiding spiders are lit up in fluorescent green. They scurry away as I pass them. I’m always conscious that Dawn and dusk are prime mountain lion time. Luckily we’re so loud, stomping, slipping on rocks and swearing at them, our poles clicking against everything, I think we’d be (un)lucky to catch a glimpse of one.

We climbed into the early sun, and had breakfast spread on I nice rock with a vista of the valley below. I hope the next town has Via sachets, going back to folgers instant might just tip me over the edge.

Surprisingly no one else from camp passed us as I imagined they would (they were all very tall and long legged). We carried on to water, then up to a ridge. From here we needlessly dropped right down into the valley before climbing right back up to where we were before, rather than just walkingthe ridge along the top. For goodness sake. 

We stopped at the East Verde river, as it was about 20 metres wide and a metre deep. Luckily it was crotch deep and provided a much needed refreshment. Snakes exited on the bank, dropped her pack and reentered to fully submerge. The cool river provided a numbing medicine for our painful soles.

We collected water from a side stream and elected to do the first steep 1.5 miles of this next climb before lunch. Because, why would you stop for lunch at the beautiful bank of a flowing river?

The climb was vertical and surprisingly full to the nasty brim of boulders and rocks. Luckily, as it levelled off, there was a shade tree. Snakes made herself at home, stripping off and hanging all her clothes out to dry on the trees.

My lunch bagle was no longer fresh, this was disappointing as I needed to use two of my most valuable condiment sachets in order to lubricate both top and bottom. The rare dijon sachet was required for this. Bit of a waste on a stale bagel really.

After lunch we crossed the flatish mesa we had just ascended, and when I say flat, I mean, inclusive of rocks, so not flat. We descended one, filled up with water at a small alge filled tank then climbed another, the rocks now looking like skulls, or, ‘baby heads’ looking at us. A suitable creepy place to stop for tea at 3.

We were passed by all 4 ladies from last nights camp , Cow Girl, Smash, Toast and Assassin. They stopped for a chat, then powered on. Today is the day before town, so, getting as many miles in as possible, to reduce the miles to town tomorrow is the main objective.

The bottoms of our feet were so very tender, I have multiple blisters and sore spots and we’re both taped up to the nines. We wanted 3.5ish more miles today, so we needed the distraction that only headphones and external input could bring. I’m listening to an excellent podcast about people who live on the rails in America, hopping trains aimlessly and surviving, by choice. This made me feel better about my life choices. It’s narrated by a woman who lost her daughter to the rails and is trying to understand the life she now lives. I do recommend it.

We topped up on water for a dry camp overnight, and 7 miles until the next source tomorrow, then we climbed a mile up, onto the next mesa and managed to find a convenient flat spot right where we wanted it.

Tub time.

After our bath from the flat tops of the mesa we watched the sun set, ate noodles (I’ve taken to always asking Snakes what she wants for dinner, luckily, she always wants noodles) washed it all down with some instant mash and called it a day, cow girl style.

Minutes after I’d snuggled into my sleeping bag and pulled my hat over my face, Snakes decided we should set up the tent. Dark clouds were above us, and while I did my best effort to convince Snakes I was meteorologically smart enough to know they weren’t going to rain, she wasn’t fooled. The tent felt small after a few nights on the open ground, we were perfectly warm though.

22.5 miles on the day.

April 14th: Day 26: Pine

Another early start, headtorches firmly aimed at the ground. Only a single minute after I’d been thinking to myself I hadn’t seen a coyote yet (we’d heard them a number of times) I turned  my head to the left to see a set of flashing yellow eyes looking at me from about 5 metres away. His little pointy ears darting up and down, trying to work out if I’d seen him.

After we finished the bulk of the climb, a pack of cyotes were cheering for us down in the valley below. The sound could be ominous if it wasn’t so majestic and comforting to me.

The dawn light came and the temperature dropped, we marched on stopping for breakfast afte 6 miles. My podcast did a lot to curb the pain in my feet, but it wasn’t lost on me that all of a sudden the trail had become easier, smoother and dived into dense pine (my favourite).

We took off shoes to cross the knee high and freezing cold Pine creek, with its top layer of morning snow melt, numbing our toes. We powered the remaining 0.5 miles to the highway, the same highway we crossed 4 days before, hitching to Payson. A mile down the highway into Pine and we walked straight into the Early bird cafe. Acting like we weren’t in desperate need of a shower, laundry and had just woken on top of a mesa having hiked 13 miles to get there. I think we were convincing.

Having woken at 4.30am, by 9.00 I was devouring an omelette, by 10.00 we were resupplyong at the Ponderosa market and by 10.30 I was in Mike Beck’s shower. Who’s Mike Beck you ask? Well, I’m almost as familiar with him as you.

He and his wife Kathy open their home to hikers, let them shower, launder and have full use if their kitchen and supplies. Why? Well, I asked Mike this, he likes to contribute. God I love Mike. We cleaned up, were given pads on the floor of his office , while a hiker G-Punk was in the room next door and Blink, having given up his place in the office for us, valiantly slept in the garage. What a guy! We sat with Mike and shared beers and got to know him better.

Before long we were hungry once again, we hiked the mile trip back to town and ate at THAT brewery. We must have warmed our server up somethin’ good as by the end of the meal she’d given us happy hour prices on everything we ordered and pretended it was two of our joint birthdays, sang happy birthday to us and gave us birthday discount cherry cobbler. Needless to say we left a big tip, which is probably her MO.

We bought a nice bottle of wine back to Mike’s and shared it with him while we stayed up late (8.40pm) talking for what felt like hours.

April 15th. Day 27. Leaving Pine.

We woke in peaceful bliss. Mikes house had a isolated calm about it. We surfaced and sat ourselves in the lazy boy chairs with coffee and spent some time mappings next section of the trail.

From here, we go rouge. The AZT onwards is mainly underwater, and seeing as that water is likely hiding rocks, and will be fresh snow melt ready to give us frost bite (or “hoof foot” as Snakes calls cold feet) we are diverting on a piecemeal trail which may, or may not be of better quality than the AZT. Ultimately still heading North, but, with a sprinkling of West to aim for Sedona, the Queen of hiking. Rock free (on trail, naturally Sedona is all about big rocks).

After an adequate amount of meggle time, Blink, Snakes, G-Punk and I walked a mile back to town to the Early Bird cafe for a whopper of a breakfast. Made by chefs who proudly state one shouldn’t trust a skinny cook. And, by the look of the cooks, they were very trustworthy.

Mike, who was running an errand in town, picked us up, saving us a slow wobble up the hill, bellies full and prepped for a few more days of calorie deficient eating.

Back at Mike’s we packed up, and Snakes and I headed out, west, off and away from the safety of a well-known trail and into a bit of an unknown. The dirt road was immediately a pleasure, steeply climbing up into the pine forests, not a rock in sight.

We arrived at the top, crossed a flat plateau and wound down to the outskirts of the small town of Strawberry. Here we sat and ate lunch and made tea. A few ATV’s passed by, with one stopping to bellow “YOU HIKING THE TRAIL?”. Sat with our backpacks, hiking poles and with no vehicle, bike or horse in sight, I really fancied responding “no”.

Blink arrived and joined us for a rare (for him) sit down. We left together for Fossil Creek trailhead where weekenders and dayhikers were all leaving for the day. A big sign warned us of the upcoming perils.

We turned down the hill and descended to the creek for 2 miles. Meeting many returning day hikers on the way. Some of whom didn’t look like they were going to make it and would surely be one of those 200. Nearly all of them asked if we were camping, to which we responded “no” as it was illegal to camp in Fossil Creek.

Once at the bottom, it was left for fossil creek or right for the Mail Trail, we went right. Clearly it hadn’t been walked since the discovery of the United States and we were bushwhacking our way through thistley mayhem, scratched and slapped to buggery by all the bloody overhanging greenery. We crossed the creek,  gathered water and completely lost the trail.

It was getting on for tub time, and we weren’t yet in Camp. I found a suitable spot, then ventured off like a brave hero to find the trail. I did, but came back in a state.

Snakes suggested a possible alternative way to find it, she ventured off, and came back having found it, quicker and without bleeding legs. Well done Snakes.

A quick tub time and camp set up, followed by a meal of Lobster thermidor, with a spicy zesty lemon au jus, dauphinoise potatoes and pan fried garlic green beans, before bed.

11 miles on the day.

April 16th: Day 28. Mogollom Rim

By 4pm today, we would be at a private, million dollar residential airstrip, in the annex of a hanger at Barbra Elkin’s aunts House, with beer, salad, hummus, wine and an iced white mocha triple shot coffee, after an extremely hard day. When we woke this morning, that scenario was what my wildest dreams would have been made of, never could I have imagined that’s where we’d end up.

The trail provides.

We woke when we fancied, which is the best way to wake. It was 5.45 and we were in the fly of our tent, in the only flat spot by the river, nestled off the banks out of sight.

Blink was snoring away, the first time we’d woken before him. I was pretty disappointed he hadn’t brought coffee to our tent door.

We completed the usual pack down routine and felt confident we’d be able to find the mystery ‘Mail Trail’ which we’d managed to lose (or more accurately it had disappeared) last night.

Snakes and I set off first, Blink travels at the speed of blink, so he’d catch us.

We followed the river around the corner where it split. Then followed a boulder filled tributary of it, with some effort, uphill. The Mail Trail, according to my map, was up to our left but every time I ventured to check if I could see it, more blood would poor from my legs from the invisible bastard thorn bushes that stood blocking our every access point. Eventually, I thought I saw something resembling a trail, we left the river for it and continued a painful, blood drawing bushwhack along what was possibly the trail, possibly deer tracks or possibly the road to hell. We always ended up at a dead-end. Our clothes were being ripped apart, along with our legs and hands. We’d both had enough. The nail in the coffin for Snakes? Her nose blowing device, her hanky, or, Hank as he’s known, was missing. Left for dead, ripped off her pack somewhere in the wilderness behind. She was over this shit. So was I.

We dropped our packs, made one last attempt to scramble up the raised knoll to our left, both taking different approaches, if we found nothing here we’d be turning back.

On our GPS, we were knew exactly where the trail was, but in reality, nothing.

On the tops, the brush cleared somewhat, and there was hope for the journey. Even if there was no trail to follow, at least if I could follow the GPS without being attached by the devils garden, we could progress.

Unfortunately we had to drop back down to collect our packs, back through the brush knowing that returning with the extra width and height of our packs would be even harder.

Snakes, not wanting to give up on Hank, ventured even further back through the thorns to find him if she could. Before long, she saw her disgusting cloth hanging from a tree, she ventured back and collected him. This brightened the mood somewhat. Blink arrived and we three climbed Satan’s rock, with yet more skin to be claimed by the bastard thorns.

On the top, I saw the same footprint i’d seen yesterday at the moment the Trail vanished before the river, so we were, quite possibly on the right track. Or, we we’re about to die with the last hiker who came this way. The thorn bushes , which amongst grass were invisible and therefore hard to avoid, lessened. Cairns appeard at random intervals as I lead the way through thick grass which hid rocks and divets in the ground. Needless to say the going was slow.

Now we had to climb up and out of the valley, summiting the Mogollon rim, which, for whatever geological reason is a massive Game of Thrones type rock wall escarpment, a break in the earths topography, which spans 200 miles across the Northern half of Arizona. It is shear and impressive. It hosts sedimentary, volcanic and metamorphic rock dating back to the land before time.

We were off trail, climbing steeply through thick grass, avoiding the covered rocks and prickly pear cactus thorns. The day was heating up, we felt like we had sunburn on our screaming blood stained legs. With no assurance the trail would ever emerge, we plodded on, up to a saddle in the sky which we hoped would be our summit.

The climb turned into a scramble, the scramble eventually,  remorselessly gave way to a ledge, a trail or a semblance of such a thing, a distant memory to us and blissful to follow for the short remaining distance to the top.

We marched across the plateau, on top of the rim, found a shade tree, made coffee and cursed the name of the man who suggested this would be a good idea (Gary, or ‘FU*@£^G Gary’ as he’s now known).

Now on blissful dirt track, able to converse, reminiscing about our brilliant decision to take this side trail, we encountered a sign:

Why the duce this wasn’t made clear to us the moment we STARTED the Mail Trail, but only AFTER, is a hopeless useless infuriating question we’ll never have answered.

A few more heavenly (rocky) miles on dirt road and we arrived at the highway. From here it was 9.8 more miles into Camp Verde town. Blink announced he was going to hitch. We parted and hiked on, valiantly, comitted to the  miles, assured we would enjoy a road walk after this mornings hell.

When all of a sudden, the realisation that, I really, really didn’t want to do this, came apon me. I stopped and turned to Snakes and offered her the idea, that we didn’t have to.

Trucks pelting at us at 70mph, dirt, dust, danger and tarmac to ruin our feet once again and for what? To connect our already broken footsteps to Sedona?

The alternative, hitching to Camp Verde? Or, contacting Barbra, a lady who i’d caught the name of online who may be able to help?

After immediately receiving my message Barbra called and said “stay there I’m coming to getcha”.

We did what we were told. We slumped down on the highway. I made a sandwich and we awaited Barbra who was 20 minutes .

She scooped us up, drove us to get soda, then up and slightly out of Camp Verde town to a private, residential air base where folks with a lot of money and an interest in planes (her auntie) can open their garage (hanger) and fly off in a thrice.

Before long, Barbra, the absolute legend, had situated us so we were comfortable in her annex, the laundry was on, the greatest shower on trail yet had been had, we made a huge salad, were drinking a beer, we’re being highly entertained by her and I had Charlie the chihuahua on my lap with calypso the puppy running about.

Barbra to the rescue.

We had a very relaxing evening, with Blink and his friend Cash (who hed met on the CDT)  who’d made it a couple of hundred miles from the Mexican border, got lonely an frustrated with the trail and skipped up to join us.

1,000 miles on the day (or much less but that’d what it felt like)

The next stop, Cottonwood, or it was, until Barbra came up with another idea….