Our time in Tucson and the beauty of Sabino Canyon and Hutch's Pool had almost fogged our memory as to what was to come: another big climb through the Santa Catalinas to the mountaintop town of Summerhaven. It didn't take long for the morning chill to burn off as we almost immediately began our ascent from Hutch's Pool. The trail incline increased dramatically as we climbed over Romero Pass - we kept calling to one another asking what we'd done to deserve such suffering and remarking that this was 'some Adam's sh*t' referring to the incline being comparable to climbing the 12,276' volcano in Washington. In other words: it was hard.

Eventually the grade eased a bit as we entered the Wilderness of Rocks - an area that reminded me a bit of the fight scene between Wesley and Inigo Montoya in the movie A Princess Bride. Perfectly placed boulders in the sand soaring nearly 8000' in the Santa Catalina mountains. Looking along the ridge above me I couldn't help but wonder how exactly these multi-ton boulders balanced on one another so precariously. Nature is awesome.

Rock formations along the ridgeline of the Wilderness of Rocks

We were anxious to get to Summerhaven by 6pm so as not to miss our opportunity at the pizza shop in town, but the heat and challenging climb was working against us. As we neared town, the number of other hikers out for overnight and day trips increased dramatically. One group of 3 heading towards us called out before we had a chance to say hello, "you must be the two girls hiking the AZT." We nodded, unsure of how exactly they knew us. "The guy with the tattoo arm is just ahead of you. He was asking if we'd seen you." It had to be Sean, the thru-hiker we'd met in Vail on Easter Sunday. The hikers reassured us that the restaurant in town would be open if the pizza place wasn't, which was good because our arrival to Summerhaven - all 3 blocks of it - was 15 minutes before the pizza place was scheduled to close, but the doors were already locked. Who closes a PIZZA place before 6pm on a SATURDAY ?! The mind reels...

We proceeded to the General Store where we saw Sean standing with friends of his from Phoenix who had joined him for a section. Although we had only spent the time it had taken to eat a meal together in Vail, our reunion must have appeared to the locals around us like that of long lost childhood friends. We made a stop at the store for luxury items like skittles and their famous fudge before heading down to the Sawmill Restaurant where Sean and his buddy had already spread out on the outdoor patio. He mentioned needing a trail name, which Wildflower and I took as an unspoken challenge.

We had read about the General Store and their famous fudge. Somehow I justified carrying out a 1/2 lb of fudge

After consuming as many calories as we could and chatting with our fellow hikers for a bit, we decided to press on. We wanted to get to the outskirts of town to make camp before it got too late. Saying our goodbye for now to Sean, we hiked a few minutes out of town (did I mention it was only 3 blocks?!) and made camp looking East, hopeful the sunrise would encourage an early start.

Morning sunrise battling the waning moon for attention

It was cold that night. Not Patagonia cold, but cold enough that getting out of our sleeping bags felt like a cruel joke. Our saving grace was that the day ahead was hiking down... Easy right?

Wrong.

The cliché 'It's all downhill from here!" has a very different, very unpleasant meaning when going down means hiking Oracle ridge. A steep, rocky, overgrown trail where the only distraction from your aching knees is the cuts you are sustaining on your arms from the overgrowth. At least it was also cold and windy.

Wildflower descending Oracle Ridge along a rare open and grassy stretch

A highlight for me looking down at the Biosphere 2. I did not see Pauly Shore.

The terrain eased a bit as we walked into the afternoon. We were looking forward to our water source for the afternoon - High Jinx Ranch. We didn't know much about the ranch - only that they were hiker friendly, had water and that the temporary caretaker had hiked the AZT last year.

Taking advantage of the shade at High Jinx

Relics of old equipment used during the early 1900's and then again much later as movie props

Upon arrival, the ranch appeared to be vacant, but we could see a group of equestrians in the distance that were making their way towards us. We were sitting in the shade when a half dozen tourists on horses trotted up, led by a local cowboy and a woman who looked younger than her age and tougher than she turned out to be. It was Sandpiper, the temporary caretaker. She was assisting with a tour out of the YMCA a few miles away and had seen us arrive. She made sure we didn't need anything and said she'd be back in an hour and to stay as long as we like.

We took advantage of the water and shade and before we realized the time had passed, an orange Honda Fit came rolling up the driveway with Sandpiper at the wheel - a slightly different mode of transportation than what we'd first met her on.

She was thrilled to chat with us. We talked a bit about the trail and then the conversation shifted to yoga and meditation - as it tends to with me and Wildflower - and soon we were gabbing like old friends. At one point Sandpiper said, "I think I was supposed to meet ya'll"

She was definitely 'our people.'

We were thrilled when she asked if we wanted to see the ranch - a historic property originally built by Buffalo Bill Cody - and spent the next hour being shown the unique space that Sandpiper was, at least temporarily, calling home.

The main room of the ranch house - an extraordinary space kept cool by the rocks the home is built into, but lit by the incredible picture windows facing South and East.

The Crow's Nest of the house where Sandpiper gets to sleep. Imagine waking up to the sunrise every morning

Sandpiper led us up to an outbuilding turned hiker cottage where she often spends time reading and writing while taking in the open views out to the surrounding desert and mountains. There the three of us sat and talked - I mostly listened - about thru-hiking and the impacts this journey had on our 'real' lives.

The Arizona Trail is my first thru-hike, so I have yet to learn what my life after the trail will be like. I listened to Sandpiper and Wildflower share their experiences wondering what would happen to me after I returned home. Sandpiper, a lawyer turned high profile executive in the cancer research world, had taken two months off last year to hike the AZT. She was only home 3 months before deciding she wasn't ready to go back and, despite the objections of her colleagues and friends, took another year off to figure out her next steps. She'd kept in contact with the caretaker at High Jinx who, 6 months into her sabbatical, fell gravely ill and was in need of a temporary caretaker. And so, here she was: an executive turned ranch caretaker, unsure of what to do next. I asked her if she thought she'd go back to work once her year was up. She just looked at me and shook her head, "I just can't." I'm quite sure Sandpiper had done well for herself in her career, and the thought of building that career up to then abandon it completely seemed like a very scary prospect to me. But it was clear - by the pep in her step, her excitement over feeding the koi fish Winston and Clementine, her enthusiasm over the raised beds she was preparing in the garden, and her pride in taking care of the AZT Thru-hikers - that the life Sandpiper had spent years building was simply not her anymore. And honestly, as uncertain as she was about her next move, she didn't seem too worried about it.

I knew Wildflower's story already and that she had warned me many times what I've heard from other thru-hikers: 'Thru-hiking will ruin your life.'

I was already getting a sense of this in small ways - the simplicity of this life puts into perspective all of the nonsense of my life off the trail. When you are carrying everything you own on your back and your daily priority is where your next water source will be; it makes you realize what absolute bullshit most everything you worry about regularly really is. I had been thinking a lot in my walking about the vegetable garden I'd been putting off establishing, the excess clothes I could sell, converting to the non-processed Real food diet I'd been wanting to transition to. I'm actually strongly considering becoming a vegetarian... And I eat a lot of meat! I knew that if I was already making these considerations less than 200 miles in, my life would likely be turned completely upside down by mile 800. And, much like Sandpiper, I really wasn't too worried about it. In fact, I was looking forward to the unknown impact this experience would have.

It was hard for us to leave High Jinx. We'd already stayed nearly 2 hours longer than planned and the sun was beginning to go down. It was worth the schedule change to me; I left the ranch feeling newly energized about this 800 mile undertaking and excited to meditate and answer (and NOT answer) the 'what next?' questions I'd been pondering. Appropriately enough, we hit mile 200 shortly after leaving High Jinx - an extra exclamation point to an already exciting afternoon.

Our original plan had been to make it into Oracle, but as we got to the American Flag trailhead - our first of two options to head into town - we decided to press on and camp tonight, leaving Oracle for the morning. There was a sweet couple - Wendy and Jeff - at the trailhead who'd been completing day hikes along the trail. They had the AZT guidebook in hand and were curious and excited for us about our journey. We chatted in front of their motor home for a few minutes before continuing on.

As we made camp that night I reflected on the goals and intentions I had set for myself on this journey and the perspective I'd been gifted from Wildflower and Sandpiper. I didn't have a plan, or any answers. I still don't know how to do what I love to do and also pay my mortgage, I was still planning to eat meat at my next town stop and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't secretly desiring a night on the town in a dress and high heels. But I was starting to accept that my life as I knew it had been left at the Mexican border. I was only 1/4 done and already, thru-hiking had ruined my life.