Day 25. Saturday, March 25. Mile 216.1, elevation 5245, to Mile 332.5, elevation 4796. Walked 16.4 miles, 3124 up, 3648 down. Total grade 412 ft/Mile.
Dear Trail Friends,
I just added another number: total grade. I don't even know exactly what it means though clearly it's a measure of how steep the trail is. I just didn't feel that today's mileage and ascent and descent numbers did justice to how physically grueling the day was for me and how exhausted I feel.
It is increasingly clear to me that I cannot hike the 20 mile days that my plan calls for. Once in a while, when the mood strikes me, I can hike 20+ miles. But I cannot maintain that as a daily average particularly this time of year (not yet the long summer hours of daylight). I am a slow hiker and 2 miles an hour is my best - when I have to hike up steep rocky slopes I can be as slow as 1 mile an hour.
Clearly I have tried to reduce the number and length of rest stops to try to raise my mileage numbers. But in so doing I rob myself of my happiest moments on the trail. The moments when time seems to stop, I feel deep quiet, I listen to the wind or look at the flowers or mountains and just settle into that sense of "here I am."
I know it is hard for me to give up the destination of this pilgrimage Ribbon Falls and all it has come to mean to me. It is hard for me to give up my purist ideal of hiking the whole trail and to skip parts. And it is hard for me to figure out how to supplement my resupply boxes, packed for a certain number of days, if I decide to go slower than plan.
But as I lurched and stumbled up the mountain today, as I felt my exhaustion setting up my tent (and managed to lose my second spare stake - after losing the first last night - and search though I might, unable to find it), I realized I need to bow to my own limitations. It is all well and good to plan for 15 miles a day and then have the fun of beating the plan. But I got greedy in planning this hike and the plan is driving me too hard and robbing me of the joy of simple presence.
Therefore I have decided to revise the plan as best I can for 15 hour days. I think I can do this if I am willing to sacrifice the hike from Flagstaff to the Grand Canyon south rim. This is easier than to sacrifice the hike into and out of the Grand Canyon and to Ribbon Falls. The purist in me finds comfort in the idea that if and when I come back to hike the final part of the trail (south rim to Utah border) I can easily hike from Flagstaff to the Grand Canyon then. On the practical side there is an affordable shuttle from Flagstaff to the south rim.
So now my goal is to slow down, take the rests I need - and enjoy them, settle into a different kind of time. Usually my hiking has been a lovely balance between lost in the moment timelessness and rushing toward goals. This time the rushing has gotten out of balance.
Thank you for listening. My greatest logistical challenge is food. I will have to accept not having vitamins for every day of the week, sharing my food over more days and buying whatever I can find in the way of trail bars to make it work. It involves giving up a lot of control. I'm sure that this is core to the pilgrimage prayer for the people - me in particular- to emerge out of the darkness in which we don't see each other into the sunlight in which we can see each other and seek harmony.
Another aspect of that Zuni myth is that the people did not have mouths or anuses when they lived in the dark world. Those openings had to be cut in them so they could receive nourishment and release waste. That feels connected to what I am wrestling with.
Which makes me think of this morning' s hike. I began at 5:45 in the dark and it was beautiful to see first the crescent moon rise among the stars then the changing colors all along the horizon that precede dawn. I wish the camera (or photographer) was able to catch the crescent moon but I still hope the photo allows you to walk with me in imagination under that big changing sky.
I finished climbing Montana mountain (you may recall that yesterday I was also exhausted and stopped before reaching the top) and walked for some time along the dirt road. I loved this image of the morning sky reflected in a puddle on the road. There's something metaphorical there about what trail means to me, though I'm not sure exactly what it is, related to reflections and finding the big in the small.
As I hiked down from the top I heard some voices in the distance. My first thought was of Bruce and Cynthia, maybe I had caught up with them. But the voices were loud and male and multiple - and I felt a moment of fear of being hurt by them. When I got closer I realized they were a Boy Scout troupe with four or five adult men. I don't know how many there were. I do know that they hiked faster than me and I stood aside for them to pass me but the stragglers were behind me. And there I was in the midst of all that testosterone energy and boisterous noise - and they neither passed me (they kept waiting for their stragglers) nor went slow enough for me to pass them. There I was trapped in the midst of them, not my idea of a quiet solitary hike in the wilderness.
And then one of the dads and I began to talk. He was interested in my hike and asked for the address of my blog. He talked about being a father of 6 children, a patent lawyer biochemist who worked for a company being moved from Phoenix to Connecticut, which was okay for his younger children but not for the ones in college and finishing high school. He was an interesting warm sensitive soul and gradually the affliction of landing in the middle of a Boy Scout troupe turned into a blessing. Another dad told me about the apple orchard gone wild there, how good the apples were, how he and his wife had come in the fall when the grass was shoulder tall. Photo 3 shows a few of the scouts and dads just where the AZT is about to diverge from their trail.
I stopped for a meal and rest at a stream just beyond there, having hiked 10 miles by 10:30am which pleased me and seemed promising (for getting in miles and convincing myself I could push myself hard enough to follow my plan). As I rested a group of six horse people came. Amazing to watch those big animals negotiate the rocky and difficult path. I did something I had not yet done on the Arizona trail - soaked my feet in a cold creek. It felt really good.
Let's end with the view from my tent. I assume that is a Lake in the distance and that it is Roosevelt Lake where I am headed tomorrow. Though I hope more slowly and restfully than I have been hiking this hike up until now. Thank you for walking with me.
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