Day 2, Old Arizona Road to Jacob Lake

Even though I thought I was careful to avoid dehydration yesterday, I discovered I hadn't done enough. I woke up in the middle of the night with painful, severe cramping seizing my hamstrings of both legs. I drank water and tried to stretch them out. It took several minutes of this before I could get enough relief to fall back asleep.

My alarm was set for 5 a.m. because I wanted to get an early start when the morning air was still cool. I woke up in the bright light of a crescent moon high above me. It illuminated my campsite so well I didn't need my headlamp to see.

I followed Old Arizona Road back to another ranch road, Winter Road, and I picked up the trail there to resume my walk south. The time was just before 6 a.m.

After less than 30 yards, I noticed a cow standing on the trail ahead. I took a few more steps, and it got out of my way. Another cow stepped onto the trail a little farther away before also quickly stepping aside.

It felt as if the cows were lurking behind the trees, waiting to challenge me, then quickly conceding the trail.

Half an hour later, I came upon a sturdy steel gate bearing the AZT's logo. I had seen photos of gates like this, and this was the first one I found so far on the trail. The gates could open wide enough for hikers and horses to pass through, but blocked motorized vehicles.

They are impressive gates, far more substantial than what is usually seen on hiking trails.

Light from the low morning sun raked across the tops of sagebrush as I came to a flat, wide-open field. Yesterday's sky was mostly clear, but small clouds passed above today. The conditions would remain like this all day. The clouds were never thick enough to look like rain might fall.

I left the trail at 7 a.m. to follow a bumpy road about a quarter-mile to look for water at Rock Canyon Apron Tank. It was used for cattle, not wildlife, and was the most unusual water storage site I'd ever seen. Three large containers that looked like shipping containers were partially buried in dirt. I checked them and found that two held water and one was dry.

The tanks with water smelled of diesel fuel, though I might have been wrong about that. If there was fuel in the tank, it was an obvious concern. On the other hand, I saw no fuel stored nearby or a reason why it would be there.

I made a bold, if uncertain, guess that ranchers wouldn't give cattle contaminated water. It's possible I was only smelling sulphur in the water.

At any rate, my experience last night with cramping legs told me not to risk running out of water. The next tank was seven miles away, and what I still had with me – less than two liters – would not be enough to get me there.

I decided to collect and filter a liter, and would only drink it if I had no other choice.

When I finished filtering the water, I walked back to the trail and stopped to eat breakfast. Two hikers came by while I was there. They stopped briefly to say hello, then continued down the trail.

I caught up to the hikers a short time later, where they had stopped for a break. We chatted a little longer this time, and one hiker told me his trail name was Shadow. He thru-hiked the PCT and attempted to hike the CDT, but was injured. He also completed other trails in New Zealand and Europe. His partner was Tom (no trail name), and was new to thru-hiking.

We hiked together for a while until they stopped again to make some gear adjustments. I went on ahead.

For the next several miles, the trail crossed areas that had been severely damaged in 2020 by the Mangum Fire. This wildfire started 16 miles north of the Grand Canyon's north rim.

The wildfire grew quickly, doubling in size between June 16 and 18. The fire didn't reach the Grand Canyon, but the national park was closed, and visitors had to evacuate. The AZT was also closed.

A total of 71,450 acres had burned before the fire could be put out.

I felt like I was making good time in the morning and wasn't feeling any effects of heat or dehydration. Getting an early start helped, and the day wasn't quite as hot as yesterday.

I wanted to get to Jacob Lake Inn as early as possible. I had a room reservation there, and I wanted to arrive before the motel's restaurant closed for the night. The motel was located about 2.5 miles from the trail.

I stopped again when I came upon a bear box that is sometimes used to store water caches. It was less than three miles from the Rock Canyon Apron Tank, but there were no reliable reports of water here, and I wasn't expecting to find any.

The reports were correct. The bear box only held a few empty water jugs.

Shadow and Tom arrived while I was checking it, and we hiked together for the next couple of miles.

The trail passed through another large meadow. This was an area called Summit Valley.

Later, Shadow, Tom, and I began to leapfrog each other. I would stop to take a photo, or they would stop to take a break, then we'd catch up.

One of the photos I took was of hoary tansyaster flowers. These plants grow in semi-arid areas of the western U.S. They're common in the ponderosa pine forest on the North Rim of Grand Canyon National Park, which was still a few days away.

Studies have shown that hoary tansyaster grows well soon after a fire, and that may explain why it was growing here.

The most burned trees I saw were on a slope of Orderville Canyon.

The canyon was where I also saw my first mountain biker on the AZT. It's legal to ride mountain bikes on most sections of the Arizona Trail. One section where it isn't legal is through Grand Canyon National Park.

Riders wanting to bikepack the AZT have to pay someone to transport their bike around the park, ride a long route around it, or disassemble and carry it through the canyon.

Instead of looking for the next water source, I was distracted by the change of scenery. The trail entered a ponderosa pine forest, and I made more stops for photos. But after I took a one of silvery lupine, I began to wonder if I had already passed the tank.

The map confirmed I had walked 3/10ths of a mile past it. I needed to backtrack because there would be no other water before the road to Jacob Lake, and that was six miles away.

I was embarrassed to discover the tank was only 30 or 40 yards off the trail and clearly visible from it.

Shadow and Tom were there when I arrived, along with a hiker who passed us during our lunch stop. They already had the water they needed when I arrived and soon left. The water I got from the last tank didn't smell or taste bad, but I didn't drink much before getting here. I dumped the rest and then filtered three liters.

The tank was similar to the wildlife tank I saw yesterday, with one difference. Instead of being harassed by pinyon jays, it was Clark's nutcrackers that let me know they didn't appreciate me taking their water.

Clark's nutcrackers are similar in size to pinyon jays, but instead of having blue feathers, they are pale gray with black wings. They spend most of their time in pine trees and eat the seeds of pine cones.

After walking for more than a day through sagebrush, broomweed, and short juniper trees, walking through the forest was a pleasant change. I particularly enjoyed the vanilla/pine scent that I remembered from the PCT and CDT.

Signs and blazes regularly marked the trail, so it was unexpected to see where the trail maintainers missed one at a critical spot. The trail left a double-track road, and there were no signs at the turn. Logs were placed across the road to mark the turn, which were probably placed there by hikers who missed the turn.

When I caught up to Shadow and Tom again, Shadow complained he was walking too slowly. I could understand why. It was only our second day on the trail, and it had been a long, hot day. Still, it seemed he was walking the same pace as before, and I was the one slowing down.

I had less energy than earlier in the day. I still thought I could achieve my goal, getting to Jacob Lake Inn well before sunset. I just needed a quick hitch to get me there.

Tom and Shadow continued up the trail when we arrived at U.S. Highway 89A at 4:30 p.m. This was where I needed to leave the trail and hitch a ride to Jacob Lake Inn. I got here about 30 minutes later than I hoped, but it was still a reasonable time.

But I never got a hitch.

After standing on the road for 20 minutes, I knew this was not working. If I didn't start walking soon, I wouldn't get to the motel before dark. With luck, I thought, someone would pick me up along the way.

That didn't happen either.

I arrived at the motel at 6:30 p.m., minutes after sunset. By the time I reached the motel's front desk, I was totally spent. I was exhausted and dehydrated after walking nearly 17 miles on the trail, plus 2.5 miles on the road.

When I asked to check in, the motel's desk clerk asked me to wait. I bought a Gatorade, then sat in a lobby chair. My feet and legs ached. My brain felt numb. The wait stretched to 20 minutes, and I didn't care because I was too drained to think. I was just grateful I didn't need to walk anywhere at that moment.

When I learned my room had been given to someone else by mistake, I didn't complain because I had no energy for it.

As it turned out, complaining wasn't necessary. Maybe because of my pitiful look, the desk clerk found a room, and it was an upgrade from what I had reserved. She also gave a free cookie.

Even with the cookie and Gatorade, I could barely muster enough energy to walk to my room. It laid on the bed for several minutes before reminding myself the restaurant closed at 9 p.m.

Despite my misery, I was able to take a shower and make it to the restaurant in plenty of time. My burger and a beer turned out to be what I needed to recover. By the time I left the restaurant, I was feeling much better.

I know about the hidden dangers of dehydration, and I tried to drink enough water to avoid it. Nevertheless, it hit me hard.

Or at least that's what I thought was making me feel crummy. Tomorrow, I began to realize there was likely more to it than that.