AZT – Patagonia to Mount Wrightson Wilderness Trailhead

Town of Patagonia, Arizona

Day 7 (continued)

After saying goodbye to Giggles, I spent most of the day running errands and getting in some blogging at the local library.

I developed a fond admiration for the small town of Patagonia. It has a real sense of community and seemed to genuinely care about the nature around it. I would have liked to have stayed another night.

On my way out, I noticed the reliable signs for the AZT began to disappear. There was one sign pointing down the highway, but none showing where to turn off. On more than one occasion I had to double check my route to be sure I was going on the right direction. Once sure I was on the right dirt road out of town, it was just a long haul to an actual Arizona Trail trailhead.

AZT Signs

The views in the grassy hills outside of town offered up some breathtaking panoramic vistas of the surrounding mountains, and even dramatic views of the Canelo Hills and Miller Peak in the distance. Ahead, Mount Wrightson dominated the landscape.

Hills Around Patagonia, Arizona

The trail soon dropped into Temporal Gulch, a pretty area, but not one I was keen on camping in. I pushed on and found a great ridge with perfect views in every direction, but couldn’t find a good place for a tent. I went a bit father down the road and wound up joining Salsa, Twix, and Olive Oyl at the trailhead.

The sun had already set so as they were brushing their teeth, I grabbed a quick dinner and made camp. We stayed up for a bit to do a bit of stargazing before I jumped into some night photography. I missed having Giggles’ knowledge of the universe there. I also missed hearing her giggles along the trail.

Evening Sky
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AZT – Canelo Hills East to Patagonia

Day 5

Most sites along the AZT are rocky. It’s highly recommended that hikers bring a light foam pad to put under their air pads to avoid springing a leak. We didn’t do that. As a result, my pad sprung a leak the night before, and while I still slept ok regardless, it could have been much better.

Outside the tent, some clouds had rolled in overnight that didn’t threaten any weather, but broke up the blue sky nicely. The others got on our their way and we weren’t too long in following.

After a few miles of hiking, we were feeling good and Tatiana had even begun to teach me some Spanish. We were laughing and enjoying our hike when we once again caught up with the other group at a water tank. It was a little bit dirty, but we filtered it easily enough. As we approached though, they gave Tatiana her new trail name: Giggles. They said they could hear her coming for quite a distance. They went on their way and again, we weren’t long after them, except when we reached another water source, we began to get confused.

We had assumed the previous was one on a map, which made us believe we missed an unmarked turn that wasn’t signed. We backtracked for .25-.5 miles and scoped it out, but it clearly wasn’t the right way. Concerned, we headed back down the trail, past the new water source, and found another AZT sign. The water source we had stopped at that we thought was mapped wasn’t mapped at all. The one we were only just now getting to was the one we were looking for.

Giggles’ leg began to act up a bit again, slowing us down slightly. We stopped for a lunch in Middle Canyon in the hopes that a short rest would help it out, but as we crested one hill after the other, it only began to bother her more. For a distraction, she put on her headphones and began listening to podcasts, which oddly enough, seemed to help. Our spirits lifted once again as we dropped down to the end of Passage 2, where shortly into Passage 3, ran into the group who already had camp up. Since we were both still feeling good, and seeing that there was a nice sunset in the works, we continued up the trail for another mile or so to watch sunset from a small pass where we would also have dinner. We both agreed on it and it turned out to be an excellent decision.

With daylight fading, we picked up our things and began the long descent down Passage 3 to find a campsite. We dropped through a small canyon which brought us out to open, grasslands hills. As we hiked on for another mile or two, the stars began to pop out overhead. It was quiet, peaceful, and sublime. We found a campsite soon enough and took our longest time to set up the tent since we were both completely distracted by the stars. As we crawled into our tent, a pack of coyotes began to howl only a few hundred yards away.

Day 6

I never could get my sleeping pad patched, so it was another uncomfortable night for me, though I still got enough sleep. Plus, once we got going, it was slow from the start because Giggles’ leg was now becoming a problem. We were descending into Red Rock Canyon, another subtly beautiful area of the Canelo Hills, when our pace came to a screeching halt around lunchtime where the emotional stress of the injury caught up with her. We plopped down under a tree for a siesta with bees buzzing around the top of the budding tree and cows staring at us just a few dozen yards away.

After a brief rest, we were both feeling better and were easily making up miles again. During another rest later in the afternoon, I discovered that we were doing much better than we ever thought would have been possible. Apparently my slow-and-steady pace was actually paying off. All of a sudden we were determined to make it to the end of Passage 3 that night, the end of it being the town of Patagonia. The thoughts of pizza, beer, and other foods were getting us even more motivated. Giggles had discovered a limp that she could do that wouldn’t hurt it as bad, but would still allow her to make progress.

We crossed the last pass about 30 minutes after sunset. All that remained was about a mile to a road that was two miles away from town. We took our time on the descent and sure enough, reached the road. We stepped to the side to refill water and were just about to begin the home stretch when Border Patrol passed by and turned around to ask us if we were ok. Before I could even open my mouth, Giggles went to the car and quickly said, “I have a hurt leg can you drive us to town!?” He accepted, and we were on our way to meet up with the others at the Patagonia RV Park. Awaiting us were two leftover slices of pizza, and more food than I would ever normally eat thanks to my first trail angel experience. We can’t thank Charles and Paulette enough. They were camped in the RV park visiting from Virginia and had been quail hunting from Montana to southern Arizona. Their generosity was the exclamation point on our arrival.

Day 7 (so far)

We woke up and joined Charles and Paulette for an amazing breakfast at the Wagon Wheel Saloon, and then bid them our farewells back at camp before packing up. Happy Tree was also having pain issues, so her and Giggles decided to head back to Tucson to rest up. I’ve just completed some errands in Patagonia and will be back on the trail shortly. Patagonia is easily one of the cutest towns I’ve ever visited. Everyone is overly friendly, and there are all kinds of galleries and shops. As the trail passes through town, it even goes by a Butterfly Garden, where I stopped to talk with a resident who reflected everything I was admiring about the town.


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A photographer writes: Lynsey Addario’s “It’s What I Do”

I have always been drawn to conflict photography.  If every picture tells a story, great conflict photographs speak volumes and the photographers behind each image have been the source of endless thought and speculation.  “How do they get access?  “How do they handle the stress?”  “What possesses them to put themselves in harm’s way?”  Last month I bought “It’s What I do – A Photographer’s Life of Love and War” by Lynsey Addario.  Addario is a foreign correspondent photographer who has spent her time behind the camera in the world’s most dangerous places, at the very worst times.

The book tells the story of a photographer coming to grips with her craft, competing in a world that does not favor her gender, and the balance between life in the trenches of war and the neighborhoods of her personal life when she returns from an assignment.

But for me “It’s What I Do” chronicles the evolution of Lynsey’s personal photographic style.  Cutting her teeth on last-minute assignments, dispatched by editors managing gaggles of freelancers, starting to travel to unfamiliar lands, navigating the landscape and making up the rules as she goes along, on to reaching journalistic heights with meaningful work that impacted governmental policy, to finally moving from deadline driven frenzy to creating art.  Ultimately the story is Lynsey’s journey to understand her subjects so deeply she finds beauty in despair – and captures it for all to see.

That part of the story resonates with many photographers who spend sometimes years evolving their photography into something that ultimately satisfies the reason they picked up the camera in the first place.  Lynsey’s search and drive for the truth is what turns this book into such a personal journey.

In a particularly poignant passage, Lynsey is on assignment for National Geographic and, just few months after her release from being held captive in Libya, she feels that in order to get the real story of her assignment, she must venture into Somalia, widely regarded at that time as none of the very most dangerous places a journalist can go.  And she does go, because she simply has to.

The book is liberally sprinkled with photographs and is tough to put down.  It’s What I do – A Photographer’s Life of Love and War” by Lynsey Addario is published by Penguin Press.

Photos used without permission and I hope its ok!

Waiting…

I spend a lot of time waiting.  Most photographers do.  I wait for the clouds to be just right.  I wait for the wildlife to do something other than yawn or chew.  I wait for the sun to get lower in the sky.  But I have found that patience is very often rewarded.  While I’m waiting I see other photographers come on to the scene, shoot and leave.  Then a few more.  Then a few more.  And I’m still waiting.  

Sometimes I think that the waiting is futile.  And, sometimes it is.  But often, something good happens.  What do I do while waiting?  I have to keep at least one eye on what’s going on, and a finger near the shutter, so reading and playing solitaire on my iPhone are out.  I catch up on the news on the radio, I think about my family and friends, I remember all the things I forgot to do yesterday and vow to remember them.  And then…

The sun just peeks over the horizon, and the shot is made.

And then…

The excitement runs right in front of you, and the shot is made.

And then…

The light streams through the window, and the shot is made.

The waiting is never fun, but the payoff is often there.  So grab your camera.  Find a good spot.  Then wait.  And let me know how it turns out.