March 7th- Ripsey Wash to Wash Near Antelope Peak

Desert Hare

     I woke up at six o'clock because I had to fill up a couple of the water bottles I'd drained last night, especially with an 18-mile waterless stretch ahead of me.  A minor amount of water had accumulated in the muddy trough after the black pipe continued dripping all night.  At least the cows will have something to drink.  Following the same routine as yesterday evening, it took a full forty minutes to top off two liters, which meant I didn't start walking 'til around 7 a.m.
     There is an initial climb out of the wash, then open desert with an orangish gravelly path running between sage, cacti, yucca and creosote bushes- nothing tall since the saguaros have all faded away. The only animals I've seen today are a few desert hares and some brown lizards.  The survival tactic of freezing in place as employed by one of the beige hoppers doesn't work too well when it comes to humans, as it was easily seen amidst the wildflowers and desert cobbles.  Perhaps the strategy works better against its natural enemies like coyotes and birds of prey.
     The best area today was a spot called "The Boulders", a place where a small group of weather-rounded rocks protrude slightly above the surrounding desert plain.  Just before reaching it, I crossed a beautiful, sandy wash lined with lavender wildflowers and graced by several small, shady junipers, which were so inviting that I stopped for an early lunch.  With the day heating up and shade at a premium, it was ideal for a short break.
     A mix of trail and road led me to the Freeman Road water cache two hours later, where I enjoyed a long break and a welcome respite from the afternoon sun beating down from high in the sky.  Laying my groundcloth down near a scrawny mesquite tree, I took the time to get rehydrated.  The cache appeared to be fully stocked in anticipation of the Arizona Trail thru-hikers that will be making their way up from the southern border some time over the coming weeks.  It really is a boon to have fresh water out here in a long arid stretch.  A big thanks to the volunteers who take the time and effort to stock it.
     While lounging around waiting for the clock to strike four, a pair of section hikers arrived, scouting the area in advance of their week-long trek starting next week.  Over the past few years they and a couple of friends have been slowly making progress along the AZT, knocking out segments when time permits.  One of them shared his unique story about how the trail had marked him.  Coming down on the Oracle ridge he had stumbled and fallen head first into a boulder, absolutely mashing his nose.  He realized just how badly he had hurt himself by the reaction of his hiking partners, who averted their eyes so they wouldn't have to look at the facial damage.  It took seventeen stitches to close the wound and left a visible scar running jaggedly along the length of his proboscis.  A tough break, but he'd obviously bounced back and didn't let the incident deter him from his eventual goal of finishing at the UT/AZ state line.
     Leaving the cache at 4 p.m., I started winding around the northeast side of Antelope Peak, where I met a handful of other section hikers scheduled for pick up at Freeman Road.  They informed me that two hikers were only a quarter mile ahead and that I should be able to catch them.  Little did they know that I was nearing the wash where I planned to bed down for the night.  I'm really in no rush at the moment because my planned entry into Aravaipa Canyon isn't until the day after tomorrow.
     Finding an ample grassy area near a shallow eroded bank a short ways down the wash, I set up my cowboy camp and watched the stars come out and heard the quail come in.  I don't know much about the constellations, but can say that Orion the Hunter and Taurus the Bull were prominent.  Lying there, staring up at the celestial world, I noticed that the high, thin, wispy clouds that shielded me from the sun in the latter part of the day were thickening.  Feeling a drop of rain on my cheek, I wondered whether or not to pitch a tent, but decided to just in case.  Wearing my headlamp, running shoes and little else, and trying to avoid any stray thorns scattered on the ground, I imagine I made a strange sight shuffling about in the darkness.  With the tent up, I had just settled in when the rain arrived, so I made the right call.

Distance:  21.8 miles    

The Boulders

Balancing Stone

Twins