It was an early morning. 7:20 a.m. I was wide awake staring at my tent sagging under the weight of the snow that had fallen through the night. This was one of those wake-ups that where you know, from the moment you open your eyes, that you're not going back to sleep. No more putting it off, I was finally gonna start ticking down the mileage.
Breaking down camp actually proved to be an adventure in itself. I couldn't keep my hands warm enough to do all the dexterous things necessary to get my tent packed away Even with my insulated leather gloves on, the metal of the poles would suck the heat from my fingers. It was to a point where I had to breathe on each of the joints of my poles just to get them seperated. To give you an idea of how long that would take, my tent has around 25 joints. Breaking camp took a bit longer than expected, needless to say.
I walked up the FR leading into the parking lot near the trailheads. It was easy walking and I made it in good time. In order to get the southernmost section of the trail, The Mexico-America border, The AZT makes you backtrack. If you're going S-N or even if you're going N-S, I'd recommend stashing your pack and doing the hike on foot. You'll come right back by. I brisk walked my way down to tag the border and made my way back to the parking lot and my pack. I got out my tent to dry and had the first dose of what would later become the absolute scourge of my entire existence, oatmeal. Thanks to oatmeal, I now have a serious taste aversion to the combination of Apples and Cinnamon. Anyways, at that time, I didn't mind as much so I jammed it down, packed up my tent, and set off north, north, ever north!
It was pretty good going. There was sunshine streaming from the sky and a pleasant chill in the air. The trail to Millers Peak is awesome. It's high elevation gain(Miller's Peak is 9,400 ft. and the trail goes to 9,100 ft.) with minimal switchbacks. The trail curves and bends it's way up the mountain which allows you to take in the nearly constant vistas of the surrounding area. To be fair, it is pretty tough. You gain around 3,000 feet over the course of 6 miles. There's no flat walking, but at least it isn't just a straight path up the mountain!
I want to say that this was my favorite section of the trail, really, I do. But my happiness was rather dampened by the ultra fresh powder that was on the trail from the trailhead.
I could see walking in snow to be a very fun endeavor. Find a cute winter boo and leisurely stroll arm in arm through the rolling dunes of snow. Even if the snow were maybe a foot deep, I think it would be fun. You kick out your feet as you walk and powdery snow crystals billow up sprinkle on the two of you.
My day was nothing like this.
From the moment I hit 7,500 to when I made camp at 9,100, it was constant post-holing. Like I said, that's all well and good for a little walk through town, but combine that with a 60 pound pack, decreasing oxygen levels due to elevation, and an incline and suddenly it is a very large inconvenience. Even more than an inconvenience actually. A serious problem. Since so much snow had fallen the night before, it made my going very difficult and slow. It got to the point where I was so exhausted and out-of-breath that I couldn't go 100 feet with out resting. This went on just about all day after 12. I finally reached the highest point in the trail at around 4:45. At this point I was at the junction where the AZT veers left and the Millers peak summit trail continues straight, bending slightly right. *Quick side note, During December in Arizona it sunset is at around 5:15 and headlamps are a necessity if you don't want to walk into a cactus of two at around 5:50. This was not where I had planned on camping and I didn't really want to camp here since it was covered with about 2 feet of snow evenly, but it would also be dark soon and the temperature was already dropping. At 9,100 I knew it would be very cold, very fast.
At this point something rather interesting happen. With a combination of my utter exhaustion from the day and the sharp increase in altitude, I began to feel what I have come to dub exhaustion/elevation sickness(clever aren't I?). I couldn't seem to maintain a steady train of thought and I kept thinking the wrong things. It gets weirder though. I seemed to sort of "zoom out" on my thought process. Like everything that was going through my head was in a spread out timeline. I could see what it was I was thinking and I knew it wasn't the right thing, but I just couldn't seem to stop thinking it. I forced my self to focus and be aware of my own exhaustion and how it would effect my decision making skills. I laid out all my options and weighed each one.
Thankfully, I was able to talk my self into throwing down my tent right where I was and crashing off the trail. I got everything set up at around 6 and popped back outside for a moment before settling down for the night.
Now, I've seen a lot sunsets, and what's more, I've seen a lot of beautiful sunsets. But there is definitely something to be said for the sunsets of the Southwest. I have never seen a skyline with so much imbued warm colors. There's an array of red and orange highlighted with a effervescent lilac. I won't try and convey it's beauty with words because, well, if you've ever seen a sunset, you'll know it's just never the same. I'll just say that if you ever decide to go to the Southwest, you have a treat in store for yourself every night. I stood and stared until my knees started knocking. My sleeping bag was a welcome experience.
Breaking down camp actually proved to be an adventure in itself. I couldn't keep my hands warm enough to do all the dexterous things necessary to get my tent packed away Even with my insulated leather gloves on, the metal of the poles would suck the heat from my fingers. It was to a point where I had to breathe on each of the joints of my poles just to get them seperated. To give you an idea of how long that would take, my tent has around 25 joints. Breaking camp took a bit longer than expected, needless to say.
I walked up the FR leading into the parking lot near the trailheads. It was easy walking and I made it in good time. In order to get the southernmost section of the trail, The Mexico-America border, The AZT makes you backtrack. If you're going S-N or even if you're going N-S, I'd recommend stashing your pack and doing the hike on foot. You'll come right back by. I brisk walked my way down to tag the border and made my way back to the parking lot and my pack. I got out my tent to dry and had the first dose of what would later become the absolute scourge of my entire existence, oatmeal. Thanks to oatmeal, I now have a serious taste aversion to the combination of Apples and Cinnamon. Anyways, at that time, I didn't mind as much so I jammed it down, packed up my tent, and set off north, north, ever north!
It was pretty good going. There was sunshine streaming from the sky and a pleasant chill in the air. The trail to Millers Peak is awesome. It's high elevation gain(Miller's Peak is 9,400 ft. and the trail goes to 9,100 ft.) with minimal switchbacks. The trail curves and bends it's way up the mountain which allows you to take in the nearly constant vistas of the surrounding area. To be fair, it is pretty tough. You gain around 3,000 feet over the course of 6 miles. There's no flat walking, but at least it isn't just a straight path up the mountain!
I want to say that this was my favorite section of the trail, really, I do. But my happiness was rather dampened by the ultra fresh powder that was on the trail from the trailhead.
I could see walking in snow to be a very fun endeavor. Find a cute winter boo and leisurely stroll arm in arm through the rolling dunes of snow. Even if the snow were maybe a foot deep, I think it would be fun. You kick out your feet as you walk and powdery snow crystals billow up sprinkle on the two of you.
My day was nothing like this.
From the moment I hit 7,500 to when I made camp at 9,100, it was constant post-holing. Like I said, that's all well and good for a little walk through town, but combine that with a 60 pound pack, decreasing oxygen levels due to elevation, and an incline and suddenly it is a very large inconvenience. Even more than an inconvenience actually. A serious problem. Since so much snow had fallen the night before, it made my going very difficult and slow. It got to the point where I was so exhausted and out-of-breath that I couldn't go 100 feet with out resting. This went on just about all day after 12. I finally reached the highest point in the trail at around 4:45. At this point I was at the junction where the AZT veers left and the Millers peak summit trail continues straight, bending slightly right. *Quick side note, During December in Arizona it sunset is at around 5:15 and headlamps are a necessity if you don't want to walk into a cactus of two at around 5:50. This was not where I had planned on camping and I didn't really want to camp here since it was covered with about 2 feet of snow evenly, but it would also be dark soon and the temperature was already dropping. At 9,100 I knew it would be very cold, very fast.
At this point something rather interesting happen. With a combination of my utter exhaustion from the day and the sharp increase in altitude, I began to feel what I have come to dub exhaustion/elevation sickness(clever aren't I?). I couldn't seem to maintain a steady train of thought and I kept thinking the wrong things. It gets weirder though. I seemed to sort of "zoom out" on my thought process. Like everything that was going through my head was in a spread out timeline. I could see what it was I was thinking and I knew it wasn't the right thing, but I just couldn't seem to stop thinking it. I forced my self to focus and be aware of my own exhaustion and how it would effect my decision making skills. I laid out all my options and weighed each one.
Thankfully, I was able to talk my self into throwing down my tent right where I was and crashing off the trail. I got everything set up at around 6 and popped back outside for a moment before settling down for the night.
Now, I've seen a lot sunsets, and what's more, I've seen a lot of beautiful sunsets. But there is definitely something to be said for the sunsets of the Southwest. I have never seen a skyline with so much imbued warm colors. There's an array of red and orange highlighted with a effervescent lilac. I won't try and convey it's beauty with words because, well, if you've ever seen a sunset, you'll know it's just never the same. I'll just say that if you ever decide to go to the Southwest, you have a treat in store for yourself every night. I stood and stared until my knees started knocking. My sleeping bag was a welcome experience.
