Day 31 Roosevelt Lake Marina to Two Bar Ridge

There was still time to kill when I was finished, so I rummaged through a hiker box stored in a shed next to the hiker camping area. When I took a quick look at it yesterday evening, I thought there was just one hiker box with some leftover food.

Instead, I discovered several boxes, and they were neatly sorted by categories. Perhaps someone else had time on their hands while waiting for the store to open.

I found some parts of a Black Diamond trekking pole in one of the boxes, and for a moment, I thought I had struck gold. Just yesterday, I fell on one of my poles and broke it. This looked like a way to make a quick repair.

Sadly, the pieces weren’t from the same model as mine. The diameter of the shafts didn’t match, and there was no way to repair mine with the hiker box pieces.

Still, this wasn’t a major problem. I had already worked out a temporary fix. As long as I didn’t fall and break another section, my poles should be able to take me to Mexico.

When I saw that the store was open, I walked over and bought a cup of coffee, a microwavable biscuit, and an electrolyte drink. Then I refilled my water bottles. The store clerk told me I should refill them from the soda dispensing fountain. She said the tap water in the building tasted bad.

I was finally heading across the highway to the trail at 8 a.m. First, I had to follow a side trail. It took me through a mobile home park, then past a cemetery.

Many of those buried there helped build Theodore Roosevelt Dam in the early 1900s. Others were residents of the small town that was established when the dam was built. There could be as many as 75 marked graves in the cemetery and perhaps several unmarked graves.

Apparently, there wasn’t a lot of documentation about who was buried there, and much of it is now lost. Many of the early grave markers were made of wood, and several had rotted and weathered away.

What is known is that at least 30 workers were killed during construction of the dam. Most died from falls or blasting accidents.

The workforce was diverse. Much of the labor came from Apache Indians, but there were also Italian stonemasons from the East Coast, plus Mexican and African American laborers.

The dam was one of the first projects initiated by the U.S. government after The Newlands Reclamation Act of 1902 was signed into law by President Theodore Roosevelt. The law allowed the government to set aside money from land sales in western states and use it to construct and maintain irrigation projects.

When it was completed in 1911, the dam was the largest masonry dam in the world. Initially, it was 280 feet high. The dam was raised to a height of 357 feet in the 1990s. That’s also when the suspension bridge I crossed late yesterday was built.

As soon as I reached the AZT, it began a relentlessly steep climb. Some of it was on a dirt road, which didn’t smooth out the grade at all.

Before long, I met a woman and a man leading a couple of horses down the mountain. The woman explained that they were walking because the horses had sore feet.

I could sympathize with that. This was a rough trail.

Her comment reminded me I was wearing new shoes. They don’t make Topo Athletic Traverses for horses, but they sure were helping me. The grippy soles made a noticeable difference compared to the worn-out shoes I wore while slipping and sliding down the mountain yesterday.

By 9 a.m., I could already feel the temperature soaring. There would be no place to find shade and not much of a breeze for most of the day.

Soon, the climbing trail put my shoes to a greater test. The road was filled with gravel and large stones as it went up an extremely steep grade.

Even though I had filled my water bottles less than two hours ago, I stopped at a spring next to the trail. I guzzled the rest of a liter of water before refilling the bottle. The water was green but not nearly as murky as some water sources on this hike.

The trail was still following a road and still mostly climbing when I approached a steer. There were no others, and it looked lonely.

“I know how you feel, buddy,” I said as I walked past.

Like the previous two days, fighter jets buzzed low overhead.

At about this time, the trail left the road and entered a canyon. The footpath was mostly rocks, with some used to mark the route as cairns. Without these, it would have been difficult to find the route.

I wasn't sure I would find any shade today, especially when I wanted to stop for lunch.

As luck would have it, I found a spot to sit in some shade just before noon. There was even a small trickle of water flowing nearby.

A lizard watched as I ate my lunch.

So far today, I had only walked 4.8 miles. I had hoped to hike as many as 15 miles today, but as rugged as the trail had been, and with a relentless sun, I was not expecting that to happen.

When the trail climbed out of the shaded canyon, it entered an area completely burned just a few months ago. The Black Fire was started by a lightning strike on July 11. It burned more than 11,000 acres and threatened the marina area. The AZT was closed for several days.

The residents of the mobile home park I passed this morning had been in a “Set” phase when the fire was active. That is the step before an evacuation is ordered, as in “Ready, Set, Go.”

Fortunately for them, the fire was contained, and the residents never had to evacuate.

Unfortunately for me, the fire left a desolate wasteland. There was nothing large enough to cast a shadow.

I had no choice but to keep going and drinking as much water as I could.

The strenuous climb was nearing an end when the trail left another road and entered Superstition Wilderness. The Superstition Mountains could be seen in the distance.

Much of this land was protected long before the Wilderness Act of 1964 was signed into law. The first protective status was given in 1939. Today, 160,000 acres remain free of roads and mechanical devices.

The high point of the climb came a short time later when the trail passed just below the summit of Pinyon Mountain (5,268 feet).

By 3:30 p.m., I was beat and beat up. Scanning the trail for a shady spot to rest, it finally came 30 minutes later. There wasn’t much shade, but it was enough to cover me.

The break was an opportunity to look at the map and try to find a place to camp. The ground had been so rocky, I wasn’t sure I’d find one for several miles.

After reading through comments posted in FarOut, however, I saw several hikers had mentioned a spot just north of where the trail intersects the Tule Canyon Trail. It was about two miles away from where I sat, and that suited me well. I was already feeling done for the day, but I figured I could push on for two more miles.

I found the site at 5:20 p.m. It was on the crest of Two Bar Ridge, in a saddle between two short, unnamed peaks. Looking back, I could see Roosevelt Lake.

The sun was setting behind the Superstition Mountains on the other side.

Soon after I finished setting up and was about to start preparing my dinner, a northbound hiker approached. I said hello, and although he returned the greeting, he didn’t stop long enough to talk. I had no chance to warn him that he would have a long way to go before he’d find another place to camp. He would soon be heading down a steep, rocky stretch of trail.

I hoped he was wearing good shoes.