Day 6: Tortilla Mountains to Picket Post
AZTR 300: 5 days, 17 hours, 13 minutes
Worst day of my life, I think somewhere in Alamo Canyon. (Well, perhaps second worst, since at no point am I lying on the ground incapacitated.) So many dark places visited today. There is a crash on the descent to Gila River, resulting in a broken bar end and grip that spins freely. I run out of power on the Alamo Canyon climbs before later running out of food and rationing water. There is utter frustration with even more hike a bike forced not by technical trail but darkness and sheer drop-offs and a spectacular, just plain stupid, fall turning up the jeep road out of the canyon. And then there is the epic final push to Picket Post, mindlessly plowing onward through exhaustion, hunger, and more wobbles. My watch reads 2:15 when I reach the trail head and although I am very glad to finish, putting the 300 in the bag does not, at that moment, feel like a high point.
High point: mountain top sunrise in Tortilla Mountains. I take a little extra time to appreciate the moment, aware that this singular experience may never again be repeated. Finding oneself in such places is one of many reasons to love bike packing. The panoramic vistas of Gila River Canyon are stunning and the 24 hour CircleK in Superior cause for great celebration.
Most interesting thing: I keep slamming on the brakes, afraid to hit the twee little birds that keep turning up in the middle of the trail at night. They are about the size of my fist and do not fly off until the wheel is right on top of them. I suppose they must be out to catch little lizards looking for a warm spot after dark. If you like eating lizards, then you need to move to Arizona because the whole state is overrun. I find out later they are not owls at all but common poorwills.
High point: mountain top sunrise in Tortilla Mountains. I take a little extra time to appreciate the moment, aware that this singular experience may never again be repeated. Finding oneself in such places is one of many reasons to love bike packing. The panoramic vistas of Gila River Canyon are stunning and the 24 hour CircleK in Superior cause for great celebration.
Most interesting thing: I keep slamming on the brakes, afraid to hit the twee little birds that keep turning up in the middle of the trail at night. They are about the size of my fist and do not fly off until the wheel is right on top of them. I suppose they must be out to catch little lizards looking for a warm spot after dark. If you like eating lizards, then you need to move to Arizona because the whole state is overrun. I find out later they are not owls at all but common poorwills.
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Day 7: Picket Post to Apache Junction
Low point: fighting a relentless headwind on my way to Two Wheel Jones, the Apache Junction bike shop.
High point: the intoxication of forward motion after a brief crisis of conviction. (THANK YOU chica, for being an early riser and ardent spot watcher.) The latte at Mountain View Coffee House in Apache Junction and my first shower in six days are mighty fine as well.
Most interesting thing: I get a call from Rich shortly after arriving in Apache Junction. He says yesterday was the worst day of his life. “You too, huh?” He has decided that 300 miles of the AZT is enough fun for him. I will miss seeing his smiling face on trail. And I am disappointed that our friendly battle for lanterne rougue is now ended.
High point: the intoxication of forward motion after a brief crisis of conviction. (THANK YOU chica, for being an early riser and ardent spot watcher.) The latte at Mountain View Coffee House in Apache Junction and my first shower in six days are mighty fine as well.
Most interesting thing: I get a call from Rich shortly after arriving in Apache Junction. He says yesterday was the worst day of his life. “You too, huh?” He has decided that 300 miles of the AZT is enough fun for him. I will miss seeing his smiling face on trail. And I am disappointed that our friendly battle for lanterne rougue is now ended.
Day 8: Apache Junction to Payson
I get to ride my bike all day long (almost) and I am loving it! I wish I had packed a couple more bars and planned for a meal in Tonto Basin instead of going off route to the Roosevelt Lake marina. Turns out to be a major time suck and the grill isn’t even open. I do manage to cobble together a lunch from limited options at the sad little store but a burger sure would have been better.
Low point: getting hit with brutally hilly, rocky and sandy crap dirt roads the final 8 miles into Payson at the end of a triple-digit day. Worst part? Being able to see traffic lights on Beeline Highway, which I appear to be paralleling.
High point: the screaming fast descent into Fish Creek Canyon on State Road 88; and also the entire gravel grind from Apache Junction to Roosevelt Lake.
Low point: getting hit with brutally hilly, rocky and sandy crap dirt roads the final 8 miles into Payson at the end of a triple-digit day. Worst part? Being able to see traffic lights on Beeline Highway, which I appear to be paralleling.
High point: the screaming fast descent into Fish Creek Canyon on State Road 88; and also the entire gravel grind from Apache Junction to Roosevelt Lake.
Day 9: Payson to Highline
Starting up Highline Trail
Low point: a spectacular fall while hauling the bike through a rock garden on Highline Trail. I had hoped to knock out half of Highline before camping but make it only 5 miles or so before quitting in utter frustration. The trails around Oak Spring actually seem steeper but at least I get to tackle them earlier in the day while relatively fresh.
High point: hearing “Woohoo! Go Sheila!” as I roll into That Brewery & Pub parking lot in Pine. My first Spot fan on the AZT is Sirena, who works for the Arizona Trail Association. I’m sure she has NO idea how much this makes my day. Scoring fresh socks at the 24 hour Walmart back in Payson is also cause for celebration.
Most interesting thing: I get to sample the Arizona Trail Ale at the brewery. I’m dying to order a whole pint but know it will slow me down even more than the huge meal. Resupply at the market takes forever because I am so sleepy and brain dead.
Day 10: Highline to Blue Ridge
General Springs cabin
Low point: chilly arrival at Blue Ridge Campground on two angry feet and one broken shoe. The last bit of climbing up to the Mogollon Rim on Tunnel Trail is also pretty heinous and the absence of a good view a major disappointment.
High point: afternoon break in General Springs Canyon for a water refill, icy foot bath, fresh bandages and clean socks, the whole time being serenaded by a cacophony of chirping frogs. Early morning ride of middle Highline is also quite nice.
Most interesting thing: There is a mountain bike parked near East Clear Creek that is sporting both a child seat and a gun on the handlebar-mounted rack. The owner appears and starts describing what a great set-up it is for turkey hunting. I hope that is the only thing he’s hunting as I double-time it down the trail. I wish I hadn’t heard the word turkey because now I can’t stop fantasizing about a Thanksgiving feast.
High point: afternoon break in General Springs Canyon for a water refill, icy foot bath, fresh bandages and clean socks, the whole time being serenaded by a cacophony of chirping frogs. Early morning ride of middle Highline is also quite nice.
Most interesting thing: There is a mountain bike parked near East Clear Creek that is sporting both a child seat and a gun on the handlebar-mounted rack. The owner appears and starts describing what a great set-up it is for turkey hunting. I hope that is the only thing he’s hunting as I double-time it down the trail. I wish I hadn’t heard the word turkey because now I can’t stop fantasizing about a Thanksgiving feast.