Spring Break in AZ

With spring break time upon us I was reflecting on my past spring break experience.  I never really had an opportunity or desire to go to a place like Daytona or South Padre Island.  In fact I really didn’t go many places at all.

My most common spring get away was to visit my grandparents in Tucson.  I started going when I was about 16 and I may have made it a dozen times or so.  It’s warm enough to be hot for a Wisconsinite.  Plus I could see a few Brewers Spring training games.

But I mainly went down there to see my grandparents and to hike in the mountains.  My Grandpa Carl worked at the Catalina State Park for dozens of years and I got to know some of the rangers there throughout the years.

One of my favorite hikes was to start in the Catalina park and hike to the peak of Mt Lemmon.  Then I would hike down to Romero Canyon.  I did it a few times and it was a lot of fun to walk from the desert to the snow and back down again.

When I got into my 20’s I decided I would take 6 days and take a really long hike from the basin to the peak and back down.

I had just purchased an external frame pack and some new boots.  I thought I was set as set could be.  After packing it with food, water and clothes it weighed about 80 pounds.  The water was really heavy.  But there would be no water source for the first day and I would be in the desert.  So I had about 3 gallons of water. 

The first day out was hot and sunny.  About 5 miles in I was starting to think I had made a mistake.  The terrain was a rolling desert flat, pocked with Saguaros and not another soul.  My new boots were killing me and I was stopping to have a smoke every few miles. 

Because it was so hot I decided to take off my shirt and cool off a bit.  Exposing my shiny white Wisconsin skin to the AZ sun, this seemed like a great idea.  It was not.  By the time I got to the foot hills I was bright pink and blistering. 

It was getting dark so I decided to find a flat area to set up my tent.  I found what appeared to be the perfect spot and set up camp.  I took off the pack and noticed the bright white stripes where the straps had been.

I decided to cool the burn by swimming in a clear mountain stream.  It really helped the burn, but the water was freezing cold.  In order to warm up a bit I started to set up my tent.

I opened my pack and rolled out the tent.  Inside the rolled tent I was surprised to find a large bottle of tequila!  Score!!  So I opened it and drank a little.  Then I set up the tent and drank a little.

As I pounded in the first stake I noticed a few bees buzzing around.  I didn’t think much of it and pounded in the second stake.  More bees buzzed around and they seemed kind of pissed.  I got to the third stake and was stung a few times.  I swatted my arms around me and realized there was a swarm of very pissed bees all around me. 

I grabbed my smokes and the tequila and jumped into my little tent.  Up to that point I had been stung about 8 or 10 times.  It made me forget about the sunburn. 

I squished a few bees that had flown in with me and I sat listening to them dive-bomb the tent from the outside.  There was an eerie and angry buzz surrounding the tent.  It was kind of creepy.

So I opened the bottle and rolled a smoke.  Then I sat and thought about what the hell I was going to do.  As I sat I noticed there was a bulge in the center of the tent floor and it was moving.  I looked a little closer and realized it was a whole lot of bees!               

Seems I had set my little tent up on top of an underground bee hive.  Plus the pounding in of the stakes made them mad.  Of all the luck, I was pretty pissed. 

As I sat there drinking and smoking I could hear my grandfather’s voice in my head.  “By the way Todd, there are a little of killer bees up there now.  And they are pretty aggressive right now.  So don’t get your dumb ass all stung up”…

The bottom of the tent was withering and buzzing as I rolled another smoke.  I took another draw from the bottle and felt it warm my throat and fog my head.  I just sat and stared at the mass of pissed off “killer bees” outside of my tent.

The sun was starting to go down and the temps were dropping.  So I was pretty sure the bees would calm down soon, but I still really didn’t have a plan.  So I drank more tequila and rolled another smoke.

After the sun went down I decided I would make a break for it.  I unzipped the tent and was stung in the tip of my nose.  I zipped it back up and waited a little while longer.  The temps were really dipping now and my sunburn was no longer keeping me warm.

Finally I said, “fuck it” and unzipped the tent and ran out.  I pulled the tent from the ground and held it over my head as I ran through the dark landscape.  A cloud of very pissed killer bees were following me and stinging me.

I really wish there was a camera on me as I am sure it was comical to see a shirtless, badly sunburned, drunk guy screaming while he ran with a tent over his head.  After a few hundred feet I started to realize I had not really thought this through and I really had no destination.  Plus I had left everything but the tent at the “bee site”. 

I slowed down my pace and realized there were few if any bees buzzing around.  I looked around and could not really gauge what direction I had run.  But I was in a very rocky area and there was no place to set up the tent.

But I did hear water, which seemed odd.  So I went towards the sound and was shocked to find a rather large waterfall a few hundred feet in the distance.  As I walked up to it I found a little platform next to a large rock where there had obviously been several campfires throughout the years.

I figured this was the perfect spot and got to work setting up my tent.  But because it was all rock and I had lost the stakes I could not really set it up right.  But I figured it would be fine as long as I could climb into it.  So I left the tent and went back to retrace my steps to the “bee site”.

After wandering around in the dark, bumping into cactus and tripping over boulders I accidentally found the site.  The bees had calmed down a little, but there was still several hundred buzzing around the big hole where my tent had been.  I cautiously gathered my pack and assorted stuff.  I quietly put the pack onto my sunburned and stung shoulders and grabbed the half empty bottle of tequila.

As I walked back to the waterfall I decided it was time for a reward.  So I opened the bottle and took a long draw while I hiked.  As I enjoyed the warmth of the tequila I stepped directly into a waist high Teddy Bear cactus. 

Teddy Bear cactus sound cute and they actually look cute.  They are fuzzy and seem soft.  However, they are covered with little barbs that get stuck in your skin and clothing.  Then they break off and get stuck to you.

I, of course, was wearing shorts and had on no shirt.  There were maybe 5 or 6 Teddy Bear cactus balls stuck to my legs, stomach and shorts.  I instinctively reached for them only to have my hand get stuck to them like some sort of evil Velcro. 

So, now… here I was in the high desert, sunburned, covered with dozens of welts from being stung by killer bees, drunk and covered with cactus.  I was like the poster child of “What Not to Do in the Desert”.

I was able to pull some of the cactus off of me with a stick I had found.  But the cactus barbs were still imbedded in my skin.  I picked up my pack and the bottle of tequila.  I put the pack on and took another drink.  This time I was standing still.  I put the bottle away and hiked on to the waterfall. 

Once I got there I looked for my tent.  It was gone.  I set down the pack and looked around.  Because I was unable to stake it down it had blown away.  I found it about 60 feet down stream stuck in a mesquite bramble.

I had to climb down about 30 feet of rock in order to get to the stream.  I didn’t think it would be much of a problem.  So I set down the pack and started to climb down.  I was doing pretty well considering I was drunk, covered in blisters, sting welts and cactus barbs. 

Shortly there after I slipped and fell about 15 feet, landing on a nice jagged rock.  This, of course, cut my leg wide open.  Now I was bleeding, blistered, welted, barbed and drunk.  Plus I was getting a little pissed.

So I staggered down stream and got the damn tent out of the tree.  I walked back to the campsite and climbed back up the wall to the platform.  The tent was soaked.  I was pissed and I was starving. 

So I pulled out my little stove and boiled some water for some rice and beans.  I had a little beef jerky and some other stuff, while I pulled the barbs out with pliers.  Then I cleaned the cut and covered with a large bandage. 

I finished off the damn bottle of tequila and had a smoke after dinner.  Oddly enough I was feeling no pain as I crawled into my damp tent.  I had left my pack hanging from a broken branch next to my tent.

The sound of the waterfall was soothing and loud.  I laid there looking at the stars thru my tent and I thought to myself “I did pretty good considering”.  The sound of the waterfall lulled me to sleep in just a few moments.      

I woke the next morning feeling like hell.  I was hungover, sunburned, welted, bleeding and blistered.  I crawled out of the tent and took inventory of my surroundings.  I was shocked to see I had climbed down the jagged wall and I could see where I had fallen because of the blood. 

I decided I needed some coffee and turned to my pack.  I was shocked to see it was unzipped!  Even in my drunken and pissed off state I know I would never have left it unzipped.  As I got closer I realized something had unzipped it.  Plus it had also gotten into my food.  It had chewed through 2 layers of plastic and taken a bite out of 4 of my 5 bagels.  It also got into my granola and raisins.  Then I realized it also shit on the strap.

I dug out the coffee and boiled some water.  I made myself coffee and ate a half eaten bagel.  I decided I would just let it go and chalk it up to experience.  No big deal, I had lots of food to last 4 days.

I stood above the waterfall and decided it looked perfect for swimming.  Plus I needed the water.  So I climbed down the jagged wall (which was much easier to do in daylight while sober) with my water packs that I had tied to a rope.  I filled the packs and then decided to go for a swim.  I took off my shoes and clothes, and then I waded into the frigid water.  It was really very cold!  But it felt wonderful to swim under the cascading water.  After a half an hour or so I decided it was time to break camp.

So I walked out of the water towards my boots and clothes.  As I walked I felt a sharp pain in the bottom of my foot.  I looked down and the water had turned red with blood.  I limped to shore and lifted my foot up to look at it. 

I was shocked to find a huge chunk of glass stuck in the bottom of my foot!  I carefully pulled the glass out and the wound bled quite a bit.  I was so mad!  Why would some jackass have been careless enough to break glass in this stream??  What kind of a dipshit would do that??  Man I was livid!

Until I found a broken bottle of tequila, my broken bottle of tequila.  Seems I remember I had set the bottle next to my tent the night before.  It must have been blown over the edge or maybe whatever broke into and shat upon my pack pushed it.

So I tied a sock around the cut and carefully climbed back up the jagged wall.  I went to my pack and found my first aid kit.  However, the cut was too deep for me to bandage it up.  I realized I needed stitches.  But I was 20 miles from any trailhead and even further from the ranger station.

I looked around my bag and found a sewing needle and dental floss.  So now…  I was hungover, sunburned, welted, blistered, bleeding AND stitching up my own foot with dental floss.  Oh and something had broken into my bag, ate my food and shit on my strap.  I was beginning to think this whole trip had gone pretty badly…

I was able to get it stitched up and the bleeding did stop.  So I took down my tent and packed it away.  I hiked on a little while until I found the trail.  About a half a mile in I found a perfectly flat campsite next to the stream, above the waterfall.  It would have been perfect had I found it the night before. 

But I trudged on getting further and further up the mountain.  As the day wore on the air became more thin.  The cactus was replaced with poplar and birch.  It was getting cooler as well.  I decided it was a good time to have a smoke, which was dumb.  So I rolled one up and took a few drags.  Then I got really dizzy and almost fell over.  The elevation change was something I had not thought of.

After a while, I decided to just keep walking.  I could see the spruce and pine trees a little ways up.  It was like walking thru 3 very different eco systems in a day.  From desert to snow, cactus to spruce, it was a trip.

My foot was killing me as the day wore on.  I went through my bag looking for a pain killer.  There was none.  But I did find my one hitter and about two grams of grass.  Bingo!!  So I sat down and lit up. 

When I came too I was lying next to the rock I had been sitting on and my head hurt.  Seems I had forgotten about that whole “elevation” thing again.  Apparently I had blacked out and fell over.  I was beginning to think the whole trip was a bad idea.

I walked a few more miles until I could see snow.  I then looked for a space to set up the tent.  It was more like camping in northern Wisconsin than Arizona.  I set everything up and made myself dehydrated beef stroganoff.  I even gathered enough fallen wood to build a small fire. 

After the fire burned out I zipped everything up in the pack and climbed into the tent.  It was then that I realized that I had made another mistake.  I had not anticipated the temperatures dropping into the 20’s.  I had only brought along my summer bag.  After all, it was Arizona.

As I slept the wind was whipping and howling around me.  But I somehow fell asleep, freezing cold and hungry.

When I woke up it was silent.  I unzipped the tent and snow fell in.  Seems we got about 10 inches of snow while I slept.  This was unexpected, but I knew it could happen.  Of course, I did not plan for it.  I had only t-shirts, shorts and boots.

I gathered my stuff into the pack and walked along the trail.  I decided I would just push through and get to the peak.  I knew there would be people there and I thought I could maybe catch a ride. 

However the snow got deeper as I got higher.  It was well over a foot deep at this point.  But I didn’t really have much of a choice.  I could see the radio tower at the peak and it looked so close. 

I took a short break to eat and check my foot.  The rice and beans were bad and my foot looked worse.  So I put a fresh bandage on it and started to hike again.  It was getting to be kind of dark around then.  But I was very close to the peak. 

When I finally did reach the tower I was surprised to find no one there.  They had not even plowed the road to the ski hill.  I was pretty bummed.  But I set up camp and made myself a dehydrated omelet.  I put on a few more shirts and climbed into the tent.  I was pretty sure I was going to freeze to death. 

I did wake up the next morning, somehow.  I packed my stuff together and started down the ski hill.  My foot was throbbing as I went downhill.  This was not good, considering I had several thousand feet of elevation and quite a distance to go before I got to the rangers station.

Yet, I had little choice but to press on.  As I worked my way down the snow started to work it’s way into my boots.  Since it was such a steel hill I decided I would try to jump down as if I was on skis.  After the third or fourth leap I lost my footing.  Again, I wish there had been a camera on me.  Because I was pretty much a giant human snowball tumbling ass over teakettle tumbling down the hill.  My stuff was flying out of my pack as I bounced off of snow drift covered rocks.

I came to a stop, near the bottom.  I stood up and gathered what I could find.  But I had lost my tent.  I could see it, it was several hundred feet up hill.  I attempted to climb up to get it, but there was no way I’d be able to do that.  So I turned and started walking down.

As I neared the ski clubhouse I prayed that someone would be there.  Of course, no one was.  So I walked along the road down hill, hoping someone would show up.  After a few miles I sat down for a smoke.  But they must have flown out of the pack as well.  So I had a little bite to eat and kept walking.  After about 3 hours and several miles I came to a rangers station. 

I walked to the door with my fingers crossed.  I knocked and was overjoyed to hear someone inside.  The door opened and a look of horror covered the rangers face.  He asked, “what the hell happened?”  I started to tell him the story and he began to laugh.  I told more of the story and he laughed more.  He was about to pee his pants when I told him I stitched my foot. 

Yet he pulled himself together and asked to see my foot.  He was shocked to see that I had done a pretty good job.  He helped me change the dressing and then offered to make some food.  He explained that it was too late to drive down, besides the roads had not been cleared as of yet.

So I spent the night telling Ranger Bill funny stories and entertaining him.  The next morning he promised to get me to the other rangers station, where they could drive me down the mountain.  We loaded my stuff and each other onto a snowmobile and off we went.

The other rangers were entertained with my story as well.  After a short while we got into a truck and they drove me to Romeo Canyon.  When I got there I called my Grandfather and he came to pick me up. 

He said “did you have a good time?”  and the ranger said “he has a great story!”…

The next year I went I just drove to Nogalas and got drunk instead of the hiking thing.  That was another experience that seemed like a great idea…