The Tortoise and The Hares

After leaving Kentucky Camp, we stopped midday at a water source that required flipping a switch and climbing over a fence to turn on the spigot and collect water. Water will be our primary factor in all decisions we make on this hike: how far we hike, where we camp, and, in this case, when we eat hot meals. Today we would take advantage of this water and have a cooked lunch before continuing on as this would be our last guaranteed water for 27 miles.

The Cheez-it crumbles are what makes it gourmet

After eating our mashed potato and cheez-it concoction we opted to nap a bit in the shade before beginning our afternoon of hiking.

It was about this time - nap time - that we first met Scott, another thru-hiker from Phoenix. The three of us chatted for a bit - he'd started a day after us - and he continued on his way, noting that we would likely see him again soon.

After our rest, we took our time packing up to continue hiking, and made our way down the trail, meandering through the foothills of the Santa Rita mountains. An uneventful, but beautiful section of the trail.

Tall grass and blue sky were the primary characteristics of the Santa Rita foothills.

It was getting close to sunset when we saw Scott again. He was a distance ahead of us, but we quickly caught up to chat some more (this time about the obnoxious gunfire we'd been hearing for the last half hour) and then walked with him a bit. As sunset drew closer, we all talked about finding camp and Wildflower and I decided to pick up our pace to get another mile or so in before making camp. We said goodbye for now to our friend and scurried down the trail - anxious to get as much of our dry stretch in during the cooler evening. We made camp on a precarious ridge line above Mulberry Canyon, later deciding that although it ended up to be our best night's sleep - it was our worst campsite; barely off-trail and surrounded by cow-pies. The prolific presence of cow-pies on this trail is not exactly my favorite feature.

Sunrise from our Mulberry Canyon ledge camp

The next day was expected to be hot and relatively flat hiking. I believe we used the word 'easy.' That was silly of us. You see, flat terrain on this trail means open. Open terrain means no shade. No shade means hot. REALLY hot. Combine that with the fact that we were carrying nearly 7 liters of water (that's 15.4 pounds) to get us to our next source - still 20 miles away - and you have a very difficult day. It proved to be the toughest day on trail to this point. We decided to take another long lunch break - even though cooking a meal wasn't an option - just to avoid the midday heat. We found bits of shade under a mesquite tree and laid down. It was about then, as we were kicked back, elevating our legs on our packs and snoozing under the mesquite, that our new friend passed us again. We laughed that he'd happened upon us resting (again) and chatted for a bit - recounting our evening hike and discussing where we had all ended up camping after leaving him the night before. He continued on, leaving us to finish our siesta, noting that we'd likely cross paths again. Shortly after mile marker 100 we did, laughing as we passed him and again remarking we'd see each other at our next break.

Our destination for the day would mark the end of our 27 mile dry stretch at the water source of Cienega Creek. When Scott caught up to us later in the afternoon, we hiked together for a bit and after concluding we were ultimately headed to the same place he said, "Do you mind if I camp with you?"

We did not mind. We said we would see him at the creek and off we went.

The deep green of trees being fed by Cienega Creek was like finding the pot of gold at the end of a very long, dry, brown rainbow.

I've often heard the phrase 'the trail provides' from thru-hikers. I have experienced moments of this in my own hiking, but nothing quite compares to the moment I arrived at Cienega Creek. It had been our longest day so far - 19.6 miles - and our hottest. It was Easter weekend, a time normally spent with family, and I was beat down - physically and mentally. I was tired, I was hungry, I was homesick and I missed my dog. As the trail dropped down into the green we'd been tracking for nearly a mile we discovered a shaded Eden of cottonwood trees, sandy beaches and a clear flowing creek. All that had been weighing me down drifted downstream. Wildflower and I just looked at each other in awe - unsure if we should hug, laugh, cry or run into the water screaming like children at the beach. I can't recall now, but I think we did all of those things simultaneously.

It was as though someone had flipped my happy switch back on. We bounced around giddily finding the best place for our camp and began to settle in when Scott arrived. Although he's not as expressive as we are, I'm fairly certain his arrival to camp was of equal relief and we all started talking and laughing, getting to know one another as we unpacked and set up camp near 3 Bridges, named for the 3 railroad bridges and tracks just downstream. Despite it being our longest day in terms of miles, we still managed to get into camp well before sunset - a welcome change from the previous few nights where we were finding camp by headlamp.

It had been 4 long, sweaty days since we'd left Patagonia and our last shower. I knew it would be chilly, but there was nothing that would keep me from the cleansing creek waters. We took turns going around an embankment where there was a bit of privacy amidst boulders and trees. Our soaking tub - Cienega Creek style.

And oh how I soaked. I can't exactly describe my experience that evening as I bathed in the creek. I'm pretty sure it was something like this though:

We spent the rest of the evening chatting about gear, our journey thus far and trail names. Scott wasn't sold on the idea of a trail name, but he also felt that it should be given to him rather than selected. I smiled. "I already have a trail name for you."

Wildflower and I had found it entertaining that we'd played this leapfrog game with Scott for the last few days and even though we were faster hikers, we had all ended up at about the same place each day. We'd hop along the trail like bunnies and then when we were taking our long pack breaks along would come Scott, slow and steady. I told him it reminded me of the Tortoise and the Hares.

"You're Turtle." I said. We'd been referring to him as such for two days anyway, I figured it was a good fit. He thought about it for a few minutes and said, "yeah.... I like that."

And just like that - a trail name is given. Scott was now Turtle.

Easter Sunday

Easter is a big deal in my family and has always been my favorite holiday. My parents host a large breakfast with an egg hunt, sausage, the best coffee cake known to man and, of course, hard boiled eggs. My dad - I mean, The Easter Bunny - hides over 200 eggs for family and friends who wake up early for an 8am egg hunt. Sunday evening we spend at my Aunt and Uncle's house with a beautiful meal, and the traditional lamb-shaped coconut cake. I was anticipating a difficult day for me; I'd already been missing my dog, Astrid, and expected to be sad without the comfort of the traditions I held do close and the sangha (community) of my family and friends.

But waking up Easter morning at our Cienega Creek camp felt like a blessing. It was town day and we only had a half dozen miles or so to Vail for resupply which meant we were in no rush to pack up. It had been a good night's sleep and I felt rested and fresh - still in a euphoria from my creek bath the night before. Even the trains that we'd assumed would keep us up all night hadn't been an issue. I quite liked the sound of the train whistle in the distance and the rumble of the cars. It reminded me of my Uncle Fred, a model railroad man, and served as a reminder of my family.

After breakfast, I led the three of us in a yoga session. Although I'd tried to do bits of yoga here and there to cater to my sore muscles, this was the first time since leaving Tucson I'd really moved in a way that felt like a complete yoga sequence. It reminded me of my students who I missed dearly and gave me the space to teach - my passion.

After one of the toughest days, I felt like everything about this wonderful place was a reward. I was surrounded by my new trail family, practicing and sharing yoga in one of the most beautiful places I'd seen while on a life-changing and life-inspiring journey, all the while being reminded of my family - who I knew was with me in spirit.

Indeed, the trail provides.

Had we not had the bonus of Town Day in our sights, I'm not sure Wildflower and Turtle would have been able to get me back on trail. I could have stayed at Cienega Creek for days.

Peaceful Cienega Creek

Arizona Trail

The Tortoise and The Hares

Easter Sunday