Arizona Trail: Third Time’s the Charm?

I am embarking on my third attempt at hiking the Superstition Mountains on the Arizona Trail…

In 2024, I was rained/snowed/blown off the mountains in a terrifying hypothermic SAR situation, prematurely ending my planned thru hike that season (and leaving the northern half for another time). 

In 2025, I returned to the trail to finish what I couldn’t in 2024. This time, I had a Garmin InReach, a rain jacket, and wasn’t juggling two jobs and an impossible timeline. I intentionally built in town days for work and buffer in case things didn’t go as planned on trail. However, I had a serious lung flare up right before embarking on my trip and had to take Prednisone to calm things down just to breathe. This delayed my start, which prompted me to start slightly north of where I left off in 2024 to allow my work/trail schedule to stay in tact. 

This left a pocket of 67 miles un-hiked in the middle of the AZT for me to come back for later. So here I am, 6 months later, coming back to finish these clean up miles (plus a few repeat miles, culminating in an 85-mile hike in 4-5 days depending on pace).

I’ll hike SoBo this time (‘tis the season) from Sunflower to Picket Post. I’m bringing extra warm layering options, a quilt AND a 10 degree sleeping bag, a rain jacket AND a rain poncho, rain pants(!), and most importantly, a hiking buddy: Dungadin (means “person who carries heavy water.”)

I met Dungadin at Sunflower last spring as we both headed NoBo. It was my first day back on trail since 2024 and she was just getting back on after a resupply. She’s my age, no children, and was thru hiking for the first time in her life, solo! It’s so rare to meet women without children our age who ALSO happen to be thru hiking solo! Seriously — we’re a rare demographic! We clicked immediately. We frog hopped on trail that day and she encouraged me to hike a little further than I wanted to. We camped together that night on a beautiful ridge, overlooking the vast Arizona landscape with a beautiful sunset. Ah! I was back on trail! And made a friend! 

The next day we parted ways, hiking our own hikes, going different distances and paces, but we kept in touch throughout the rest of our hikes, cheering each other on virtually. While I only spent one day with Dungadin in person, I’m excited to call her a trail buddy and tackle this section together, rain or shine!

Day 1: Sunflower to Four Peaks Wilderness sign: 20.1 miles

Dungadin and I started at around 7 AM with the sunrise. I hiked behind her for the first 7.5 miles as we chatted and found our trail legs. Then, somewhere along our big climb, I went in front so we could climb at our own paces. My hip right hip started talking to me around mile five. My pack weighed 28.4 pounds leaving the house, which is the heaviest that I am aware of! I am carrying double sleeping pad double sleeping bag situation for warmth and a few extra clothing layers than I normally do to be prepared for cold and wet conditions. I figured the extra weight would be “training.”

The trail was wet! It was clear there had been a lot of rain recently, and the water sources were plentiful and abundant. Water would not be an issue! The flowers were out and our pace was easy so I felt confident about our endeavor. The temperature was about 48° and humid for Arizona although my mouth feels much drier than it did back in Texas as I continuously sipped on my water hose. 

We have not seen evidence of another human out here and I wonder if we will see any hikers? It is probably too late in the season for SoBos, so I am doubtful we will see any thru hikers. I wonder if we will see any people at all? It is kind of wild that here we are in this beautiful, gorgeous, wild landscape one hour from a major metropolis, Phoenix, and it’s a weekend! How are there NO other people hiking, running, camping, or mountain biking out here? This checks my privilege as I realize just how incredibly lucky I am to be on this slice of wild earth on a beautiful picture-perfect day in complete isolation. I have this whole place to myself! It seems unfair. It serves as a spiritual guide for me to appreciate every step I’m able to take out here — even (and especially) the hard ones.

In an attempt to figure out or predict our pain points for this hike, Dungadin predicts it will be the rain and I predict maybe it will be the lack of daylight. Maybe a combination of both? I like to predict my pain points because they never turn out to be accurate. I am curious what the difficulties will be out here this time. I hope it is not my right hip because I would never have predicted this as I haven’t experience any pain around it prior to the hike and I’m feeling these sharp voices of pain quite early. I also had a very tender toenail on my right foot coming into this hike, but it hasn’t bothered me so far. I feel soreness in my calves and leg muscles and it is only about 8 miles into the hike… eeek.  

I haven’t done a lot of research on FarOut regarding the quirks of our route, and I am kind of enjoying the element of surprise.

The trail was muddy at times, but it was a soft mud that was just squishy under the feet and gave the trail a soft texture. It was nowhere NEAR the kind of mud that would stick to my shoe like the Flagstaff mud I contended with in the spring. Hallelujah! I savored every muddy step because it was just “regular mud!”

The morning climb ended with a big stretch up a dirt road and I began to feel the weight of my pack as I marched up. I took a big break at the top. I put out my sleeping pad, took off my shoes and socks, and let my feet air out. I elevated them on my pack and ate my snack of chips while I waited to regroup with Gungadin. I loved just laying there in quiet and peace, watching the sky and the clouds. This is it — laying on the top of the world, with nothing to do, nowhere to be, no cell signal, after a tough climb. Nature has a magical way of letting the mind quickly erase challenge as I attuned to the pace of the migrating clouds, my heart settling down. THIS is what I miss about trail life. The quiet. The chatter inside me quiets too. I’m just here. At ease. At peace. Still. Silent. Expansive.

Gungadin and I left the lunch break spot together and after 1 mile, I ventured off to collect and filter water. We walked separately again for a while and miles later, I eventually caught Gungadin on a climb up the dirt road. The road was mostly cruisy and I felt pretty good. Hip and toe quieted down entirely now. 

Finally, after 11 miles on the road we reached Pigeon Spring trail head. We filtered water at the spring and pushed on another 0.5 mile to find a campsite. Our spot was barely established, but we found two spots in the pine trees (and cow poop) and made home for the night.

Omg I forgot my tent stakes! I figured out how to use rocks (and luckily there were a plethora of them around in various shapes and sizes), but in the middle of the night my vestibule collapsed. I somehow managed to think to use a hiking pole to hold it out, putting the hand part against the tent with some rocks to keep it in place. This solution held up all night!

Dungadin realized her water filter was broken (good thing we have a buddy system going!) and I lent her mine. 

I had my usual beans and rice for dinner, bus since it was our first day on trail, I had a difficult time getting it all down. I forced myself to eat it all, knowing these calories were for tomorrow, but it took me a while!

We were both laying in the pitch dark ready for sleep at 6:22 PM! What??!! Dungadin and I talked for hours. She had had caffeine later in the day and was a bit wired, but I eventually started to doze off around 9:30 pm.

Ugh - I coughed all night. I’m dealing with a dry cough but I can tell there is some phlegm that needs to come out. It seems impossible with this shallow/dry cough though.

All day both Dungadin and I dealt with drippy noses; not enough to have a satisfying snot rocket, but annoying enough to make breathing through our noses challenging. At night, my sinuses completely clogged up. Perhaps the altitude? I was not able to blow my nose w any productivity, but also not able to breathe through my nose. It was frustrating!

I woke up every 2-ish hours throughout the night. I would just tell myself “I’m warm, my legs don’t ache, I’m not uncomfortable,” and this self talk let me fall back to sleep.

Day 2: Four Peak Wilderness border to 0.5 mile past Hwy 188: 19.2 miles

I woke up at 5:40 AM and took my time organizing and packing up. Every time I get on trail I have to figure out new systems and readjust to how I want to pack my pack. We left camp at 6:45 AM and walked about 1 mile to a nice stream and collected water. Y’all, shoutout to the water sources. They are pristine! Not even just “great for the AZT,” but glorious in general!

We then hiked independent from each other the rest of the day so we could take breaks whenever we needed to and hike at our own paces.  

I took a break 5.3 miles into the day and waited to regroup with Dungadin. The stopping and sitting and relaxing helped me go to the bathroom! 

The trail had been entirely eroded in parts, leaving us with some sketchy traverses. I also had to deal with a lot of coughing all morning. It seemed to clear up as the day wore on.

I took another break at the water stop at mile 13. It was a water cache full of countless gallons of filtered water left in a resupply box from trail angels! I was there for over an hour and enjoyed letting my feet breathe, the 1 bar of LTE service to do a little work, and the relaxed snacking and hydrating. We met two other weekend hikers going the opposite way. These were our first hiker sightings and they would be lucky to get 20 miles in two days according to their pace and what lie ahead (a TON of climbing!).

The whole day was breathtaking!!!! Views and views and then suddenly… a glorious view of the four peaks! And then, more views! We had so much downhill and some of it was steep and a little technical (which I find fun!). I jogged maybe 70% of that because I was feeling it.  After the water cache, we entered into saguaro cactus grove and I became a photographer. This of course slowed me down significantly, but I didn’t care. 

We had SUNLIGHT for most of the day! It got to about 70 degrees and the day was Idyllic! The weather and trail and scenery today was world class. And yet, again, we had the trail primarily to ourselves! My body was feeling good and I felt strong and proud. About a week prior, I had been dealing with some sadness in my personal life, and through my tears I sobbed to a loved one “but what if the mountains don’t save me this time?” Rest assured, the mountains indeed saved me. They always do. Nature is my greatest teacher and it shocks me how quickly I was able to unplug from all the chatter and distractions of “life and work” and tune into my heart and the present moment. 

We had been watching the clouds roll in all day as the moody sky created a gorgeous backdrop to my nature photography passion project. The more I stalled and savored, the more I knew I would get rained on. The rain was clearly coming and I had been hoping to get to our destination before the rain, but that was looking unlikely and it was worth every photo and every moment of gratitude along the way. I felt as if each flower was waving and smiling at me. The saguaro left me in awe of their wisdom and everything became insignificant in their presence. 

Eventually, with about 2 miles to go, the rain began. I stopped and put on my rain jacket and pack cover. There were some very steep rock slabs that were slippery to maneuver downhill in the rain. Thankful for my poles!

We had to walk on a highway for a brief bit to cross the river on a bridge by Roosevelt lake. My task was to find our camp spot for the night. We had read some comments on FarOut that there were some flat spots about half a mile from the highway, so I hoped that to be true so we didn’t need to walk in the rain AND the dark. 

I got to our camp spot and found a little spot next to a bush and saved the bigger spot for Dungadin because she uses a two person tent. It took me a while to figure out how to use the rocks as stakes to hold my rainfly down as I knew it would rain ALL night. Luckily, when I was setting up my tent and cooking the rain let up! But just as soon as I finished cooking, it began raining again. 

Dungadin was able to set up her tent before the rain began as well, but she had been hiking slower and struggling more today. She is hurting and is contemplating bailing at the marina (about 2 miles into the morning). Her husband could easily come get her from Phoenix and she was able to confidently say she was proud of the two days and 40 miles of untrained hiking! We threw down big days that would be “easier” for someone in thru-hiking shape, but she hadn’t hiked with her pack in months, so of course the challenges were real.

She and I had had a conversation while hiking about if it’s not a “hell yes,” it’s a “no.” I have been mulling over this idea for months and have yet to find any scenario where a “begrudging yes” is a good idea. "Begrudging yes's" are seeds of resentment. Dungadin was struggling to convert her hesitancy about continuing to a “hell yes.” I told her the most important thing to me was that she choose to do what was right for her, and not to press on ‘for me.’

I had no issues getting my dinner down tonight. I also drank some smoothie. I was hungry tonight!

The rain was loud in the tent. It was soothing at first, but then I felt a drop on my face. My rain fly was dripping water slowly and it prompted me to conduct a full inspection and my tent. I concluded that the leak was very slow (and there was a second one by my feet as well), but that I could just pull my buff over my face and not feel it so I could quiet the paranoia and get some rest. The wind was INTENSE all night and I was so grateful Dungadin was camping there with me in case my tent didn’t hold up!

As we shouted through the rain, her last words of the night were “I’ll think about continuing or not” and before she had an answer, we both passed out.