Trees? Never Heard of Them.

When I left the South Rim, spirits were high. I had resupplied, taken a zero to be a tourist, downloaded a bunch of banger playlists, got new shoes which I should’ve done BEFORE I started, and was ready to crush. First day out of Tusayan was pleasant. I’d heard the upcoming stretch was dry and exposed, but at the moment I was having a lovely stroll through the forest.

Well, as the old adage says, all good things must come to an end. The next day, while still in the forest intermittently, I arrived at a long stretch that had recently undergone a prescribed burn and resembled Mordor or the pride lands after Scar took over. Luckily, I put on my headphones, put on some bops, and boogied my way through the scorched earth.

The rest of this stretch was a hot, exposed slog with very minimal water. I saw my first snake of the trip, took a pic, realized snakes move really fast, let out a squeal, went for a wee jog, and then was on high alert after that.  Someone informed me this section was the driest of the whole trail and I believe it. Thanks to some awesome trail angels, I had water cached, but without caching it would have been rough(er). A few times, I arrived at my expected cache to find that my private water (labeled with my name and a public by __ date) had been dipped into. While I am all for sharing with others, I was disheartened to see poor trail etiquette when I had pushed longer carries in dry, hot conditions to make it to said expected water only to find it half depleted. Thus, (this is my one and only soap box moment)  I am here to say, “Don’t be that person!!” Karma by Taylor Swift plays softly in the background*

Heading into Flagstaff, I finally arrived back into ponderosa pine territory. It felt like a mirage when I finally saw the trees looming in the distance, providing cool respite against the intense sun. As I worked my way around the base of Humphrey’s Peak (tallest peak in AZ!) I was delighted by the Aspen trees intermixed amongst the pines and the sweeping views as I approached Snow Bowl (Flagstaff’s ski resort). Flagstaff has a camping ban surrounding the city, which made logistics for completing mileage interesting. I opted to complete the red line, which is considered the equestrian bypass, around Flagstaff. This adds about 13 miles ( 36 miles total through the camping ban) over the urban route which goes right through the heart of Flagstaff. While it is longer, it was extremely beautiful and routed me through Walnut Canyon, which was some of the prettiest scenery I’d experienced thus far. I didn’t see many people on the red line, and by many, I mean I only saw one person in two days.  However, it was a lovely jaunt in solitude due to pleasant scenery and a fire audiobook.

Alone, Not Lonely

One thing I thought I was prepared for but has taken more adjustment than I originally anticipated, is the solitude of going SOBO. My fiancé completed the AZT in 2021 NOBO and was quickly enveloped by a tramily. He had a significantly more social experience than I have had thus far. I may see one person a day, or I might see no one for several days. If I see anyone, it is brief and then I typically don’t see the same person again. At first, the solitude was hard for me but now I am really starting to vibe with it. It has taken several weeks for me to lean into this, but now I can honestly say that while I am mostly alone, I’m not lonely. Just me and the birds, cows, and deer. I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Snow my God, it’s happening. Everybody remain CALM!!

After surviving the driest stretch of trail and the dull but ever present stress of making it to my next water source, I was feeling like the next stretch out of Flag was going to be a breeze. More water, plentiful shade and flat cruisy miles. What could go wrong! Two days later I checked the forecast and much to my dismay a big cold front was rolling in complete with rain, hail, wind, and snow. The following day the wind began steadily  picking up all afternoon. I set up my tent hoping it would die down over night. It wasn’t supposed to be bad until tomorrow, right? *The narrator* “WRONG!!”  What happened in the next 18 hours was a series of unpleasant events that made for a good story, but at the time had me cursing precipitation with my whole chest.

Winds continued to rise overnight, resulting in some gusts reaching 50 mph. My tent was the little tent that could, withstanding a notable thrashing all night, resulting in a sleepless night and all of my gear (even inside the tent) getting a heavy dose of dirt in every nook and cranny. I’m pretty sure it was in between my teeth at one point. Rain that was supposed to start the following day mid-morning, started at 4 am and quickly turned to torrential downpour with rolling thunder. I stayed put, content to wait until it had subsided a bit before hopefully continuing on to Mormon Lake. I waited until around 9 a.m, for what I thought was my big break. The rain had subsided to a mild drizzle and the wind, while still gusty, had decided to have some mercy.  I quickly packed up camp, put on all my cold weather gear, and began to make my way down the trail.  If this were a book, this would be the part where the narrator chuckles at the naivety of the main character and the chaos about to ensue unbeknownst to them. Not even a half mile later, the loudest clap of thunder I have ever experienced outside sounded right around me, followed shortly by a violent streak of lightning. The light drizzle quickly turned to torrential, freezing rain which then shifted to hail. I was getting absolutely pummeled, and with a mild phobia of lightning, my heart rate was definitely picking up. Fortunately, I did not die! A major win 😉 Unfortunately, my rain coat was evidently not the best and I got soaked to my core. Due to the plummeting temperatures and my increasingly chattering teeth, I deemed proceeding not to be in my best interest and backtracked to a nearby underpass where I huddled in my mylar blanket (I call it my ‘hotdog blanket’ due to its resemblance to tinfoil) until a ride arrived. As I peeked between the folds of my blanket, I watched as the heavy rain turned to snow.  

*Mick Jagger voice* You Can’t Always Get What You Wanttt

The trail is always teaching me things. Sometimes, I wish it would take a break from all the lessons, and just let me LIVE. However, I did learn a LOT on this eventful stretch. One thing I am continually reminded of, is that I can plan all day but Mother Nature doesn’t give a damn. Being at the mercy of weather, and factors outside of my control, can be maddening at times. It has resulted in my fair share of tears. However, I feel that this is the lesson I need the most from my time out here. Shit happens and I can lay down and wallow, or I can adapt. I can plan, plan, plan until my little planning heart’s content and I feel like I have a semblance of control, but something will inevitably go off course. I can let my fear narrative win, or change my perspective and approach. For me, this lesson is HARD. I am an anxious queen that likes to know what lies ahead. If I could have one magic power, it would be seeing the future.  The thing is, just like in regular life, there is no way of knowing and that’s okay! That is what makes it exciting and challenging. After I  experience a particularly chaotic shit storm on trail,  is the time  I realize I am infinitely stronger, resilient and more capable than I originally thought. It’s when I realize that my plan may be altered, but I am making progress getting comfortable with being uncomfortable. It’s when I realize I can’t always get what I want, but I usually get what I need. Now if I can just remind myself of this once I have returned to real life! Should be easy. 😉