[Day 22] To the Gila

I do not know how this trail features 110,000 feet of elevation gain. There have a been a few days of climbing — the south rim of the Grand Canyon, the Mazatzal, Four Peaks, the Superstitions. Now that I come to think of it, those four days add up to about 25,000 feet alone. Maybe this trail is on track for 110,000 feet of gain.

My mission this morning was to make it to the primary water source: a rainwater collector. I say the collector is my main source over the Gila River, because… well… the Gila is said to be not too clean once out of New Mexico. After five miles, I collected up from this oasis in the desert. I decided no filtration or treatment was needed on this rain water.

En route to the Gila River, the trail winded down Alamo Canyon, which was a stunning desert landscape. I very much enjoyed it — it’s the Arizona I imagined.

I took lunch at 1pm, 14 miles into the day, at the most westward part of the AZT along the Gila River. It’s the low point of the AZT at about 1,650 feet above sea level. I ate on Slim Jim’s, Cheez-It’s, and a Hershey bar under the shade of the trees in the Gila river wash.

I was walking again by 2pm. Trail dipped in and out of the washes and canyons alongside the Gila River. The river, unfortunately, was hidden under tree coverage when I came atop canyon hills. Additionally, barbed wire fence ran the entire length of the Gila River, separating the water from the trail. This made access points more intentional and less leisurely. This walk along the Gila wasn’t terrible, but it certainly isn’t a highlight of the AZT. I’m not going to recommend people to go hike the Gila section of the AZT. In my opinion, there’s more inspiring elements of Arizona and certainly more entrancing parts of the Gila.

Around 5:30pm, I walked down a wash to the Gila to fill up for camp. I had traveled 24 miles on two liters from the rain collector — not particularly healthy. The water from the Gila didn’t look terrible, but it tasted like cow. The barbed wire fence limiting access to the river — mainly to prevent cows from contaminating the water — apparently was porous. Plenty of cow pies littered the shorelines of the river. I heard other bad things of this portion of the Gila — that the water was contaminated upstream by the mines, smelters, and the leaking septic tank of an RV park. Maybe a mile after this fill up, I decided to make the push to a spigot at the hitch point into Kearny.

Into the night, I put in the miles. Since I had good cell reception, I walked on autopilot as I researched questions that came to me during this stretch of trail. Getting close to the Centurian Road (the trailhead access road), I noticed exhaustion mentally, but not physically. Dehydration was setting in. Carrying a liter of undesirable river water, I was fully prepared to down it. I made it to the spigot dehydrated, but not in critical condition.

Promptly, I inhaled a liter of water, then put in a pizza delivery order to Old Time Pizza in Kearny. Within 30 minutes, I was sitting in the dark next to a potable spigot going to town on a pizza and a two liter of Pepsi. Since I had no accommodations in town and didn’t want to be a late night scrounging vagabond, I decided to sleep the night outside of town. A bridge arching over train tracks offered a bit of shelter. Check that off the list — I’ve slept under a concrete bridge. This small-town Arizona bridge is a hell of a lot safer than a California highway underpass. I’ll need to step up my game at some point. There’s a few bats hanging above me tonight.

I’ll hitch into Kearny tomorrow. New shoes and a couple big meals are in the plans. I’ll have to decide whether I get a shower in town tomorrow. It’s been 22 days without laundry or a shower, beating my previous stretch of 19 days on the Washington section of the PCT. Also, wow — I (and Chairman and Cabana Boy) managed to hike the entire 500-mile section of the PCT in Washington in 17 days, then 50 miles out via the PNT in two days. But then again, the PCT is a manicured, glorious single track of excellent grading. I’m reminiscing now, under a bridge — I’m too young to be reminiscing. Here’s a video of our boat taxi on Ross Lake from the PNT. What a way to end a trail.

Signing off,

Zeppelin

“Freak on a Leash”