​When we finished the AZT in the Spring, there were two notable areas we had to skip due to snow/weather: Passages 39/40 on the North Rim and Passage 1 in the Huachucas.  A spring storm dumped three feet on top the day were scheduled to begin which resulted in a day’s delay.  But even with the storm passed, the route was pure posthole along an unmarked ridge.  We took the MTB alternate down the forest road over to Parker Canyon Lake.  At the time, Janna and I promised we would come back over Labor Day Weekend in the fall to complete this section.

​I achieved a childhood dream.  Ever since I was 7, I have wanted to do a thru-hike.  Enraptured by sight of others doing it, inspired by the stories I heard, matched with own love for being in the outdoors.  Today, I finished crossing the grand state of Arizona, my home this past decade, and completed a thru-hike.

​Arizona is unique for being the only state having all four different desert ecoregions present in the United States.  In the northwest is the Mohave, in the southeast is the Chihuahuan, in the south central and western is the Sonoran, and now we were finally entering the fourth one in the north: the Great Basin.  A land of the sagebrush sea, some of which we would begin moving through later this day.

​After such a peaceful night’s sleep, I felt incredible.  Now, we only had 12 miles to get to Jacob Lake with the promise of a hot meal and some small resupply options at the small store at the Inn.  Our only problem now was that we were a day ahead of schedule as we had not taken a Zero Day at the Grand Canyon.  Knowing that Jacob Lake Inn had cabins and rentals, we decided to secure a room for tonight.  That way, we could recover this afternoon and leave by late day tomorrow to get to our last campsite before finishing.

​A calm morning greeted us with the light of day.  Outside, low hung snow clouds kissed the upper tips of the trees.  The wind was calm, and we felt exhausted.  The shadows of trees cast long across the frosted white blanket around us, the length of their umbras accentuating a silent buzz.  I gathered a weather report from the Garmin InReach mini that said storms on the North Rim would dissipate early today and completely disappear, but there was still a chance of snow in our location.  Regardless, we ate breakfast slowly wrapped in our quilts in the Triplex.  As soon as it was done, Janna and I agreed to get the heck out of there.

10 more miles was all that separated this long day from sleep and relaxation.  We pivoted immediately from the North Rim trailhead towards the AZT across the clear highway.  Snow lay in small patches here and there, but nothing intimidating.  Overhead, blankets of blue sky spread out from the mountain clouds.  Things looked great.  As we crossed the highway towards the AZT, we peered down the trail into the thick woods which lay sliced and lashed with snow embankments that we knew would take time to climb up and over.  Plus, we read that someone had done the trail proper in this area only a few days before and used snowshoes for a good portion.  Given that beta, and the late afternoon chasing us, we decided to hike the snow-free highway out of the park.  

Part 2: Up the North Rim of the Grand Canyon

The Grand Canyon can be a place of extremes.  Cold and pine on the rims transition to hot desert within.  After standing in front of the north/south rim junction sign at Phantom Ranch, we marched our way north on the skinny singletrack parallel to Bright Angel Creek.  For all of our adventuring in the canyon, both below and above, we had never actually hiked the North Kaibab Trail.  Thus, I was excited.  Proud to hit our time interval, but nervous and excited.

A day where life stretches and feels like more than one.  Although this was all a single day, the events are stretched over three posts, easily three chapters of experiences somehow all placed in a single rise to set.  

Part 1: Into the Grand Canyon from the South Rim

The night was fierce with thought.  I struggled to find a place for my thoughts amidst the growing concern for how we were going to accomplish tomorrow.  Night noises of campers and dogs spiked my blood pressure.  I was aware of how little I was sleeping before the monstrous push to come.  The storm curled up over the South Rim and pecked the shelter with rain that raced into sleet and hail.  Thunder clapped overhead.  Night became as restless as me.  The temperature plummeted below freezing.  At 2:30 am I stared up into the rustling shelter cloth.  At 2:50 am I turned to my right.  My open eyes met Janna’s own.  “Let’s go,” was all I said.  We both sat up.

Today would mark the beginning of the most insane physical and mental 48 hours of the entire AZT.  Waking up, I had no idea what would happen.  

Janna and I were up at dawn, ready to high-tail it to Tusayan in order to get some hot breakfast.  It had rained pretty much all night so the earth outside the Triplex was soaking.  We managed to pack up in a 15 minute span where no rain fell, immediately followed by a drizzle the moment packs were on.  

After thoroughly using the 5 L gathered yesterday for liberal water drinking, food preparation, and of course, the backcountry bidet, we got up and got moving to Russell Tank.  

And today we would get our first view of the Grand Canyon.

​Now that we were back in the high desert, crossing vast plains with little cover, the daily heat brought challenges again.  In an effort to combat it, the big group of thru-hikers we found ourselves in, strangely enough, woke up early to get going.  All day, we were in a giant sagebrush basin with little vegetative cover.  The views were incredible.  Behind us, the snowy husks of Humphreys Peak and Kendricks Peak loomed stark against a flat arid-land.  The sense of distance and expanse seemed unmatched by any other segment of the Arizona Trail.  This is why I love this state.  The shear diversity of landscape and biome all slammed into a single state.  A few miles bring you from the equator to the poles.

I slept incredibly well, deep, and woke up feeling well-rested.  Sleeping at nearly 9,000 feet next to snow drifts meant a crispy morning.  By the time we crawled out, Bilbo was packing up his last items and heading on his way.  We told him we were aiming for East Cedar Tank out on the Babbitt Ranch property.  He gave us his goodbye and got going, knowing his own pace and circadian rhythm well.  I took my time this morning, sitting on fallen aspen logs, looking up at the sun rising over the snow-crusted San Francisco Peaks.

​Despite being inside a building with all the comforts of a bed, I slept terrible for some reason and woke up with a headache.  We packed up with a sense of exhaustion, the calm of yesterday somehow vacant.  Mike drove us to the post office to send our bounce box home before joining us at MartAnne’s for breakfast.  A killer place for breakfast in Flagstaff, it sports a massive menu with generous helpings, especially for the hungry hiker.

​Janna and I woke up to the inside of the Triplex completely rigid with iced condensation.  That’s the thing about single-walled shelters - they boast awesome weights but condensation is always an issue.  Especially when cold freezes it into sheets.  But this time, the sheet of ice was also on the outside from the rain turned frozen last night.

​Another below-freezing morning greeted us so we again got moving right away to keep warm before stopping to eat breakfast.  The Arizona Trail through this section continued to be predominately flat.  It essentially follows the path of the old rail line that timber companies used in the early 20th century.  Here and there, old timber-cut pieces of rail ties would surface in the trail or sit alongside it, outlining the former line.  Old rail gravel and chunked out volcanic rock formed borders on either side of the slightly raised path cut straight through the woods.  After several miles (and some interesting historic signage from the USFS), it was warm enough to stop and eat on some boulders.  For the past several weeks, I had switched to eating straight-up Frosted Mini-Wheats for breakfast.  Oatmeal, despite years of trust, had become sick to my palate.  Mini-Wheats were golden.  Tons of fiber and sweet, they filled me up and got me going.  I usually chased them with a peanut butter packet I stored in my crotch for warm keeping in the morning chill.

​Even sleeping high above the tanks couldn’t shake the cold this morning.  Tendrils of frost crept down and laced the entire area with white dust.  It was crazy cold.  We packed up quickly and decided we would eat after we had a few miles under our feet and the day had warmed up a bit.  Climbing down the hill towards Maxie Tank, we ran into the two bikepackers who were also up and packing up their shelter.  Turns out they were Australians who wanted to do the Great Divide but realized their time in America was too early in the season for a proper go.  They had switched to the Arizona Trail which they described as “incredibly hard.”  Janna and I parted from them, joking we would see them again shortly.

​We slept in late after a hard sleep all night.  It was nearly 7 am when we woke up.  After getting more silt-dusted water for breakfast, a southbound thru-hiker came upon us.  We talked about the trail ahead - mostly learning that there were just miles of trees.  After the AZT left Jack’s Canyon and its adjoining wash, the trail became a rocky mess with clumps of volcanic pumice.  But, the few miles of rocks eventually gave in to easier terrain.  Tank after tank of water was gloriously clear so there as no need to filter cow poop.  

​We woke to the rushing sounds of the East Verde River.  Slowly, we pulled ourselves out of our quilts and into the cold morning.  While eating breakfast, a bunch of birders pulled up at the nearby parking lot and pulled out binoculars to check out the ornithological scene.  Back on trail, we crossed a bridge over the Verde River (only a rushing stream here) and noted the abundant biodiversity.  The AZT now split from the Highline; the Highline continued east while the AZT turned north and ascended one of the few “easy” passes up the Mogollon Rim.  We closely kept to the river, small waterfalls and narrow channels frequently occurring.  Ferns grew abundantly in some sections of the woods.

​We slept in until mid-morning, enjoying one last day in the cabin.  There was a certain sense of safety.  Gone were the imminent feelings of needing to move before the Sun got high in the sky and cooked us in the desert.  We were at the base of the Mogollon Rim.  We were at the cusp of northern Arizona.  Water should be more plentiful - the trees would be thick and protective.  Saddling that idea in our heads drove home a desire to start the day slow.

The photo above is a fitting picture for today: steep and rocky.  Today would actually prove to be the rockiest section of the trail.  Everything we thought was rocky before held little compared to today.  

It rained all night and we woke up damp from humidity and condensation, but dry from the rain.  The Polk Spring with its warm waters kept the entire area, including our tent, warm all night and morning.  Clouds hung low over the surrounding mountains, obscuring any views of the top.  Grays and whites hung ascending and tussling over one another.  We packed up in the humid field, secured one last collection of water, and prepared to exit the Mazatzals and get to Pine.