After a gentle downhill, ten mile hike we encountered the most beautiful waterfalls that I have every seen. We used Four Season Guides from Flagstaff Arizona to get permits (they are hard to secure) and to provide gear and guides. The guides were professional, helpful, and made the trip very enjoyable.
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A backpacking trip to the desert. A warm change from the cold weather in Green Bay, WI. We brought rain to the desert.
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Carl, Ed, John, and Mark flew from Green Bay WI to Phoenix AZ on an uneventful flight. Tim met them at baggage claim and the group proceeded to the parking lot of Tim’s office where we proceeded to fill water bottles, fuel bottles and to pack the backpacks for the trek. After a brief, but bumpy, ride down a dirt road we arrived at the trailhead. No problem parking – no cars for miles. So it was with high hopes and even higher spirits that the group of five began the trek that they would soon refer to as “The Mazatzal Death March”.
The saga begins at 5:00pm with a gentle uphill climb on an even dirt path. Upon reaching the top, the tread changed from dirt to fist sized rocks, loosely strewn on the ground every 4 to 6 inches. When stepped upon, these rocks move increasing the chance for a twisted ankle and blisters.
Fortunately, no twisted ankles but blisters were to play an important role in the trek. The next two miles were relatively flat with a slight downhill slope. After hiking for 1.5 hours we selected a spot to make camp for the night. Finding level ground without cactus and rocks was tough. The three tents were pitched very close together.
Supper was spaghetti which ended up being burned to the bottom of the pot, fortunately it did not destroy the flavor.
We were up with the first light, something that happens every day. Spirits are still high. After a hot breakfast of oatmeal, Mark discovered a scorpion crawling on his pack. Our planned route today takes us to the intersection of the Verde and East Verde rivers, a descent of 2600 feet and a hike of 8 miles. Footing remained treacherous throughout the day and by noon Carl and Tim were doctoring their feet liberally with moleskin.
The temperature was in the 80’s and the group thought they had plenty of water and planned to replenish water supplies at one of the 4 stock tanks shown on the map. Doubt began to creep into our minds when the first tank was dry. “Maybe the Forest Service ranger was incorrect” thought Carl “when he told us water shouldn’t be an issue.” After the fourth dry tank, open discussion about the planned route occurred but the best option was to continue forward.
There was no better sight than the lush Verde River valley. Yes, there was water and pools large enough for swimming. By this time we had been using the map long enough to make the connection between the term “hardscrabble” on the map and the treacherous rocks we had been negotiating all day long. For comparison purposes, walking on loose sand by the river was easier than the hardscrabble.
We woke to a clear morning with nice temperatures. However, Carl and Tim’s feet were a mess. Both had significant blisters and did not want to walk today. A group decision was made to stay put for the day since we had a nice campsite on sand right next to the Verde River. Mark, John, and Ed went for a hike while Carl and Tim stayed in camp. Swimming in the Verde River was refreshing.
Our plan was to hike out by a different, fifteen mile route. However, the lack of water on the way in AND Tim and Carl’s blisters led to disagreement. Should we stay on plan and take a chance of no water on the long route or stay with the way we came in and carry a lot of water uphill? After much discussion we set a deadline of 5:00pm. Stand on one side of a line drawn in the sand to return via the known route or the other side to stick with the plan. Fortunately for Tim and Carl the decision was made to return on the shorter, known route.
An uneventful hike out. Upon returning to Tim’s white mini-van we discovered that it was covered with dark marks and slobber. We speculate that the nearby cows mistook his white van for a salt lick! Since we came out a day early we headed for Flagstaff where Tim’s family had a condo that we were able to crash at, clean up, and get a nice meal at a nearby restaurant.
Tim actually had bloody toes and lost 2 toe nails a week after returning from the trip (thankfully no pictures to show). The trip is now referred to by the participants as “The Bloody Stump March”.