AZT Part 12: Flagstaff Slackpack
Day 34 | April 24, 2022
23.3 Miles
The day began with a satisfying breakfast at Martanne's where we discussed our plans for the next couple of days.
With wildfires still raging in the north and an approaching weather system heading towards the high mountains, we made a collective decision to extend our stay in Flagstaff. However, we didn't want to lose progress on the trail, so we came up with a solution: a slackpacking adventure. For those unfamiliar with the term, slackpacking involves hiking without carrying full backpacks.
Instead of resuming our journey where we left off, we were dropped off at Snowbowl, approximately 20 miles north on the AZT. From there, we embarked on a 20-mile southbound section with lighter loads, allowing us to make headway while enjoying an extra night in town.
Most folks were planning to hike the section, but I was excited at the opportunity to go on a trail run. The logistics were coming together seamlessly. I borrowed some running gear from Willy Wonka (who would be joining us for the day) and Cinderella, Space Case's friend from the PCT, kindly offered to drive us to Snowbowl in her van.
Feeling a little too excited, I slipped and fell within the first mile. My left leg was scratched, my right knee was bloodied, and my ego was slightly bruised. A few seconds later Space Case came surging down the trail, but luckily didn't see me fall. I got up and continued running.
Most of the section we were doing was downhill. Running through the mountains was fun, but also exhausting. Although I had been hiking daily for the past month, I hadn't run in a while and my muscles felt exhausted in different ways than when I hike.
I took a break at the Buffalo Park Trailhead. I ate a snack, spoke to Cosmo on the phone, and waited for the others. In the last couple miles, my speed dropped significantly, and I thought someone was going to catch up to me.
Significant time passed and nobody arrived. My sweat was beginning to dry and I was starting to feel good, all signs that I must keep moving. There were still several miles to go on the Flagstaff Urban Trail to reach my end point, the familiar and infamous Taco Bell.
Willy Wonka was waiting for me at the end. He drove me back to his apartment, and then went back to Taco Bell several more times to shuttle the rest of the hikers as they trickled in. Sitting on Alex's couch, I felt pleasantly exhausted.
After ordering a vegan pizza and watching some mindless TV, I sat in dazed bliss as the others came to join me.
Day 35 | April 25, 2022
21.2 Miles
In the morning, Alex drove us back to Snowbowl and hiked with us for a few miles.
We entered Passage 34 which traversed an area rich in biodiversity, from high elevation— briefly reaching 9,000 feet—down to typical Arizona high-desert terrain. We skirted the west side of the San Francisco Peaks north of Flagstaff, following a well maintained singletrack through beautiful pine, spruce, and aspen forests. We hiked through fields of ferns with towering aspens, and passed through picturesque alpine meadows with fantastic mountain views (most notably Humphrey’s Peak, the high point of the San Francisco Peaks and Arizona’s tallest summit at 12,633 feet).
There was a long stretch on a wide forest road amidst a hilly grassland dotted with juniper and pinyon pine trees. I listened to music as I walked, getting lost in my mind when suddenly I heard a noise from the bushes. I turned around and saw Haiku walking towards a man who appeared to be squatting down in the grass, leaning against a juniper tree, groaning and asking for water. I walked closer and realized that it was a fellow AZT hiker (not someone from our group) who was sick. I had recently completed my Wilderness First Responder training, and I felt a surge of focus and anxiety as I tried to recall my emergency skills.
Haiku gave him half of his remaining water and then walked back towards me. “What's going on?” I asked the hiker.
The hiker started to tell me he wasn’t feeling well and that he’d been throwing up and…before he could finish his sentence he said, “Uh, oh.” Suddenly, he stood up, faced the tree, and before he had time to walk away or get his pants all the way off, he began projectile pooping right there. I was stunned.
I turned to Haiku, who was now standing behind me, and said “Oh my.” It was clear this guy needed help, and I felt bad for him. Unfortunately, I couldn't get close enough to do an initial assessment due to the unpredictable explosions of pungent wet substance shooting from his body that made me declare the scene as “unsafe.”
I remembered seeing what might have been an RV in the distance not too far ahead, maybe half a mile away tops. We told the man to stay put (not that he was going to move anyway) while Haiku and I ran down the road to try and get help.
Fortunately, I was right. A camper van was parked along the side of the road and four adults (two couples) were sitting nearby eating, drinking, and talking. After a bit of an exchange, we felt confident leaving the situation in the hands of our new friends, one of whom happened to hold a medical degree.
Campsite of folks who helped our sick hiker.
The campers assured us that the hiker would be safe and that they would drive him to town if necessary. Feeling relieved we continued our hike north.
Haiku and I reached the day's designated endpoint, a trailhead with a bear box filled with trail magic from Silver Bullet. Silver Bullet stayed an extra night town and cached some treats in preparation for her upcoming on trail birthday celebration. As we approached the bear box, we took care not to disturb a drunk hiker who was sound asleep nearby.
We found a spacious spot for cowboy camping, ensuring there was enough room for everyone, and waited for the rest of the crew to arrive.
The energy was high that night. We were getting closer to the Grand Canyon, Silver Bullet's birthday was just around the corner, and the large group, which I had initially resisted joining, was about to get bigger. That night, we were joined by Babs and Sherbert, fellow PCT alumni from the 2021 season, who would be hiking with us for the next few days. Their arrival brought even more trail magic, amplifying the celebratory atmosphere.
Babs and Sherbert brought a contagious ecstatic energy that, when mixed with a healthy amount of alcohol, led us all to join our neighbor who lay in front of the bear box passed out on the ground under a desert sky, surrounded by friends and trail magic.
