
I was pretty pleased the next day with how I put into place the lessons I’ve been cultivating on the trails these past few years. I still had no idea how I was going to get from the trail’s end in the middle of nowhere on the Utah border to a paved road, and then from there back to my car in Santa Fe. I also wasn’t sure what I was going to do for water. There was no water at the end of the trail where I was expecting to spend the night. That meant I’d have to carry water for perhaps a couple of days as I wasn’t sure what I was going to do when I reached the end. There was a slot canyon that everyone was raving about and I thought I would take time to go in it. But that meant carrying enough water to last me for at least two days. Yikes!
I’m pleased to announce that I didn’t spend one minute worrying about any of it. I knew that it would all work out. I did what I could to try to move things along and then let go of the rest. I posted something on the Arizona Facebook page to see if anyone would leave water at the end. I contacted a trail Angel to see about getting a ride out from the trail, I was in touch with someone else who was trying to help me make arrangements to get back to Santa Fe and I focused on putting one foot in front of the other, cultivating curiosity about what miracles would come my way.

I felt a little lazy when I woke up that second to last morning on the trail. I spent time looking at the pattern the pines made on the roof of my tent. I thought about all the variables this trail had brought me, from times I was concerned about hypothermia to just a week later of being concerned about overheating. I thought about how hard the southern part of the trail had felt and was grateful that the northern part felt so much easier. I knew it was a combination of easier trail and of being in better shape. I thought about the importance of going with the flow and bending in the wind rather than always fighting and breaking. And I hope as I continue to age, I remain open to new ideas and don’t become a ridged old lady.

My hiking started very pleasantly by running into Bard and and Treking Pole, two hikers. I had really enjoyed spending time with a few weeks back. After not seeing them for weeks, I saw them on the north rim of the Grand Canyon and it was nice to see them again.

For a second day in a row I had to walk through extensive burnt areas, looking for beauty among the charred ruins.

Each time I went through another gate I wondered if it would be the last of this trail. I wish I had counted them when I started. I had more blow downs to go over and was ready for a stop when I reached a water cache box that hiker Laurie had left water in for me when she was caching water for herself and her 100 pound dog Chaco, who had been her constant companion on the AZT. Laurie was one of the few other older women hiking solo that I met out here. The impressive thing was that she was in her 60s and this was her first ever long hike. She encountered many difficulties doing it with such a big dog, and spent many more months on the trail than most of us in order to ensure Chaco’s safety.


I had a lovely lunch at the resupply box chatting with a Treking Pole and Bard who soon caught up to me. I also met a hiker called the Austrian, (for obvious reasons) who was putting in some big mile days, as well as a hiker named Musk who I hadn’t seen since Southern Arizona. While I was there, a trail angel named Forest came by and informed us he had refilled the next water box and had left a few gallons at the end of the trail. This was so perfect! I was glad I had spent time cultivating curiosity about what I would do for water rather than wasting my time by worrying.
When Forest told me he had just dropped Laurie and Chaco off across the road, I quickly packed up and headed out. I first met Laurie heading into the South rim of the Grand Canyon and then I camped with her in Cottonwood. I was looking forward to seeing her again.
I spent the rest of the day leapfrogging with some of these hikers, including Laurie. It was lovely to reach the next box that Forest had refilled and to find that not only had he filled it with water, but he had left some cold sodas in there. The only caveat was that we carried out the empties, which is more than fair and is the standard rule at these boxes. Since it was late in the day, I picked the ginger ale rather than the caffeinated cola, though I could’ve easily have downed one of each. It is hiker courtesy to only take one treat out of a box to ensure that as many hikers as possible share in the trail magic. It’s one of the special things about being on the trail. Hikers can cache water for themselves in the boxes and as long as they put their name and expected date of arrival on it, they can trust it will be there for them when they arrive.

I had a lovely chat here with Musk before we both filled up on water and walked on down the trail to find a place to camp for the night.

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