I stayed a day in Silver City before hitting the trail again the next day. It was a hot road walk out of town, where on three separate occasions, people stopped their cars to warn me of the bears in the forest up north. I thanked them for their concern but was much more worried about my shoes making it through the river than a bear attack. The road turned to dirt and then became a rough, steep, Jeep track and my shoes struggled to stay in place. They had no tread left and I spent most of the day falling down. After a steep climb, I came around the corner and was struck by a ton of huge rock formations, growing out of the ground for as far as the eye could see. I hiked a bit farther before setting up my tent and starting to make dinner. Just as I got settled in, a huge dark cloud blew overhead and a light rain started to fall. I thought of how perfect my timing was. It blew away quickly and I was astounded by the sunset it left, as the cloud creeped further north. I dug for my camera and took a million pictures before snuggling back into my tent and falling asleep.
I jumped up the next morning and got moving. I was excited to finally get to the Gila River, one of the many places I had heard about before the trail. The trail climbed and climbed all morning and I was proud that no one had passed me yet. I began to worry when I popped out on a ridge that didn't seem to be dropping down to the river anytime soon. My heart fell as I checked the map and realized I had gone 4.5 miles off trail. I begrudgingly turned around and started to make my way back. I've never gotten off trail so far and I remember thinking that I would have rather been punched hard in the jaw than walk 9 off trail miles. But I made it back to the trail, three hours after I had made the wrong turn, and hiked down to the river. Once I got there, the trail dissapeared and it was in and out of the river about 50 times. The whole afternoon took much longer than I had expected and although I walked 30 miles that day, I had only advanced 21 trail miles. Frustrated, I gave up and set up my tent. Knowing the river was going to take a while, I got moving early. The air was cold and I winced as I took my first steps into the icy river. The current almost stole my broken shoe off my foot before I could tighten it down. I couldn't help but imagine how difficult it would be if I had only one shoe through this pokey, hot, desert. I made it out of the valley and to a store where my new shoes were. I had a whole new lease on life as I strapped them on and headed out on my way. I had heard about an alternate that took you down a slot canyon and then connected back to the Gila but I didn't have a map for it so I decided to wing it and hope for the best. I hiked a few miles out, realized I was lost so I turned around and hiked a mile back. Then realized I had not been lost, so I turned around and walked that same mile for the third time. I got to the canyon and made my way down to the river. I had way too much food and it was really weighing me down and hurting my joints. I got to a hot spring and decided to camp there for the night, soothing my aching joints. When I woke up the next morning, it was freezing. I got moving anyways but the movement did not warm me up and the sun hadn't hit the bottom of the canyon. Moral was extremely low. I was moving at a snails pace and all I could think about was how much I wanted to be out of this freezing canyon that was forcing me to climb in and out of the river. It was the worst morning I had on trail so far and I couldn't keep my mind from the pain of the cold. I was also dealing with some bad infections that all seemed to hurt worse on this particular day. One, on the bottom of my foot, felt like I was being stabbed with a knife every time I took a step. Another was having the skin ripped away every time the strap of my backpack moved. I caught up to another hiker named HOB and began to hike with him for a bit to keep my mind from the pain and frustration. He told me about how he and his wife of 42 years had been traveling the world their whole lives. They hiked the AT in 1974, the PCT in 1976, crossed the US on a tandem bike 7 different times, and countless other adventures. I felt inspired and completely forgot about all of the terrible things I was dwelling on beforehand. We had lunch together and kept hiking, in and out of the river, chatting as we went. We got to a sand bar and we're looking for the trail when a loud, clear, rattle rang out from the ground. I looked down and jumped back as I was almost on top of one of the biggest rattlesnakes I've ever seen. He slowly slithered away and HOB and I were grateful that we weren't moving any faster. After a lovely afternoon walk with my new friend, I had to say goodbye and head on alone. I hiked late into the evening, trying to make it to a campsite at the end of the Gila River. I came around a bend and looked up just as a black bear was exploring the trail, about 100 feet in front of me. He didn't notice me at first so I scrambled for my camera and got one picture before he looked up and scampered up the hill.
I decided it was best to hike on a bit before setting up camp. By the time I set up, the sun was gone and an icy chill had settled into the canyon. The skin on my calves burned as my skin cracked from the cold dry air. I couldn't even touch them without wincing in pain. The next morning I woke up early and put on every piece of clothing I had before moving on. It was cold and I kept losing the trail but I was still hanging on to the positivity that I had gotten from the day before. My legs still ached with every step but the rest of my body felt great. We jumped onto an old road and ridge walked for most of the day. I saw my first coyote and a pack of antelope but no other hikers. It's very interesting to go a day without uttering a word to another human, though I did yell some swear words at some fire ants and flies that wouldn't leave me alone. You know you smell bad when the flies leave the cow pies they're feasting on to follow you for a few miles. Even worse when they land close to your mouth... I made it 32 miles before calling it a day. The next day started with me walking a mile off trail, again, and having to turn around and get back on track. By this time I had run out of all of my good snacks and was down to a few granola bars and one dinner. I felt hungry all day but made it 28 miles before stopping for dinner. Realizing I had no more food, and 35 miles to the next stop, I woke up early to get into town. I wondered all day if my legs would make it that far or if they would give up and stop working. I was about 3 miles out of town when I got service and discovered that all the restaurants in town closed at 6pm. It was 5:45. I almost sat down and cried but I was running out of water and had to make it. I got into town an hour later and made it to a place called the toaster house, a free hostel for hikers that is chocked full of frozen pizzas and goodies. I've never been more thankful for a frozen pizza, even though I burned it beyond recognition. There was also other hikers! I struggled to make sentences after not talking for 2 days but they understood. This morning I got a huge breakfast at the local cafe and will head out on trail again soon, refreshed and full! Mile 423
