The Adventures of Mandia: Pt. 1 To Flagstaff and Beyond

Tuesday:

I left my parents house in Casa Grande at 9am, it was already a hot 94 degrees. I made it to Phoenix in an hour and by then it was an even 100. Ugh, I couldn’t drive fast enough to get up to the mountains. I was feeling a little “weird” so no one artist on my iphone seemed to do it for me. I started with…

Le Sera (a little to down)
AC/DC –Dirty deeds (friggen rocked it through PHX)
Foo Fighters (eh, it was alright)
Golden Boots (Now here’s the stuff!)

I was about 40 miles from Flagstaff when I saw my thermometer drop. I rolled down the windows and let the air filter past my ears as my arm tingled in the sunlight. Huge puffy clouds dotted the sky. As I approached Flagstaff I could see the Kachina Peaks ever so daunting. I entered Flag doubting my abilities to reach the summit, but yet excited to try.

I-17 North. San Francisco Peak straight ahead!

I hopped on 180 North to the Nordic Center. It leads me up and out of Flag as I could feel gravities effects on my car. I ascended to a forest of pines and aspen. I pulled down a dirt road where I had to exit the car and open the fence. As I entered I could feel the smile form across my face as happiness filled my heart. For a moment I imagined him with me, how he would have loved this. To keep the tears at bay, I hurriedly unpacked the car and reached for some snacks as I hadn’t eaten all day.

I stood outside my yurt and took a deep breath in, this is what I had come for. The distant trees called, so I answered them. Grabbing a bottle of water, changing my shoes, I headed out to a sea of green. Two hours later I returned to find the camp had another occupant. She offers some friendly chatter and invites me to diner, I accept partially out of obligation. A strange and awkward woman she turns out to be, but then again, who am I to judge. She too, a lone woman who had a significant change in life, age, and is looking for something.

Yurt living

what I wondered into

Diner ends and I politely escape. Thunder pounds the sky. I choose to accept this and pour myself a cheap cup of wine. I sit in my chair, feet up, book in hand and begin to read. My brain isn’t having it, I begin to flip the pages to pictures and the map in the back. Another car approaches and so does my awkward friend. Now I find myself surrounded while busy chatter occurs. I make haste and busy myself with packing my backpack for the following days hike. This gesture signals the group to disperse. I retire to my yurt for now looking for solitude.

Tomorrow is a new day.

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Wednesday:

Alarm 6:30am. Snooze. 6:40am. Turn off. Alarm 7:00am. Snooze. 7: 10am finally make it out of bed.

Once again I’m not very hungry. I really haven’t eaten much over the past week, but I know I need to eat something so I start packing snacks into my backpack just to discover that my water bladder sprung a leak. So say the least, my pack is soaked, my jacket, first-aid kit, gloves,…everything (Fuck!) Ok, I unload everything and dump the water out of my pack, refill the bladder and make sure the lid is on tight, and make my way to the trailhead. I drive up the Snowbowl pass to an elevation of 9000’. I exit the car filled with excitement, yet pessimistic as to if I can make it.

I begin my arduous climb through a field of wildflowers. I walk closer to the tree line and then enter. The trees tower over me, and there is an eerie stillness among them. I continue deeper and deeper, higher and higher, switchback after switchback brings me closer to my goal. My breath shortens, my pulse I feel throbbing in my hand, my legs start to trimmer beneath me. The altitude has taken hold of my body and there is nothing I can do about it.

I'm guessing this is at about 10000/10500 ft

I stop frequently to keep my body at rest, to cool down, to catch my breath. Water nor food tastes good, only the hard cold stone upon which I sit brings me pleasure. I push myself with lies of “only one more mile”. Finally the brick wall appears at about 11,000’, it’s menacing. I only have a third to go (at least that’s what I told myself). Trekking pole in ground, legs in motion, I have to do this. Every step makes my legs scream. The air is thin and the terrain starts to change and I know I’m getting closer. I round a corner, then another. I look back, I see what I’ve accomplished so far, and this inspires me. I continue. After about 3 hours I reach the saddle of the mountain at 11,750’. I look and all around me is a wondrous landscape. I come to a sign “Humphrey Trail - >” another 900’ to climb to reach the top of Arizona. I inhale it all, and I know that this here, this moment sitting on the saddle, this is where I end. I’m fine with that, actually, I’m more then fine, am ecstatic. I sit on this mountain hoping for some enlightenment, instead I enjoyed a peanut butter sandwich.