Day 37 Gila River Canyon to Ripsey Wash

I warmed up quickly after I got going. The trail immediately climbed steeply in a couple of short stretches. And with no trees or shrubs large enough to cast shade, I was in bright sunshine for the entire section.

After reaching the top of the climb, I noticed a 3.5-inch metal disc embedded in concrete and low to the ground. It was small and inconspicuous. I could easily have missed it.

The disc was placed there during a ceremony in December 2011 to designate where construction of the Arizona Trail was officially finished.

I was surprised to discover the marker was so unremarkable. On some of the trails I've hiked, such as the Appalachian Trail and the Pacific Crest Trail, a much grander tablet or monument was placed at an equivalent spot.

After passing the commemorative disc, I followed the trail on a long descent. It dropped toward the river but never came close enough for easy access.

Ahead, I could see the Ray Mine, an open-pit copper mine operated by ASARCO, which is based in Tucson.

When mining began more than a century ago, silver was the primary ore extracted. Production eventually shifted to copper, and a report says the mine contains one of the largest copper reserves in the U.S. According to the report, there should be enough copper here to keep mining operations going until 2044.

As I mentioned yesterday, a study found heavy metals in the Gila River, and the Ray Mine was the source.

Shortly after 10 a.m., I arrived at a paved road. The trail made a right turn here and crossed a bridge over the Gila. Before I headed that way, I turned left and walked a short distance to a Pinal County highway maintenance facility. I went there because the county allows hikers to use a water spigot and picnic table located beneath a shade tree.

This was my first chance today to get out of the sun. I stayed for several minutes to eat a snack and drink a liter of water, then filled my bottles with four more liters.

Two bridges crossed the Gila River at East Florence–Kelvin Highway. The newer of the two was opened to traffic in 2018. It stood much higher than the other, which was built in 1917 and is now used only for foot travel.

From the other side of the river, the trail began a long, nearly continuous climb. The next seven miles would ascend roughly 1,800 feet.

Two miles into the climb, the trail reached a large gravel parking lot and trailhead. A small arbor stood at one side of the parking lot, which offered another chance to catch a little shade. I sat under it and ate my lunch.

There was also a metal box in the parking lot. It contained a cache of several gallons of water, which was free for hikers to take. Though I'd filled my bottles with four liters of water only two miles earlier, I guzzled one bottle with lunch and then refilled it.

Two men arrived while I was eating lunch at the trailhead. They unloaded two llamas from a trailer and began loading carry bags onto them. The men also had large backpacks. There were no saddles, so I knew the llamas were only there to carry extra gear.

I asked one of the men how long they intended to be hiking, figuring from their fully-loaded packs that they would be out for several weeks. He told me they would be hunting mule deer for only a couple of days.

There was also a trail register at the trailhead. When I looked at it, the two most recent entries startled me. They were written this morning by Al and Rocket Man. Those were the two thru-hikers who left Superior when I did, two days ago. I'd assumed they were far ahead of me by now.

It's possible that Al and Rocket Man left the trail yesterday, went into Kearny, and returned this morning. If they caught a ride into town, it would have taken only 10 minutes to get there.

The climb from the trailhead wasn't difficult because of a steep elevation change, but it was far from easy. Some sections of the trail were in rough condition. The trail also didn't go straight up. Every now and then, it dropped, and I had to regain that elevation before climbing higher.

I was climbing a range called the Tortilla Mountains. Early prospectors and ranchers named the mountains for the area's flat rock ledges and slab formations.

Eventually, I could see the Ray Mine again, now on the other side of the Gila River.

There were plenty of cholla, barrel, and saguaro cacti along the route, though none were large enough to provide any shade. The cool morning didn't keep the afternoon temperatures down as much as I'd hoped.

As the ascent continued, I sometimes could see Kearny in the distance. Mostly, though, I kept my focus on the trail ahead. There was still a lot of climbing to go.

More than once, I thought I had reached the top, only to realize I was making another short drop or going around a knob before the climb resumed.

It wasn't until late in the afternoon that the trail dropped into Ripsey Wash. Although the wash could have given some protection from the wind, I arrived there too early to stop for the day.

The trail then followed the wash a short distance before climbing out. On the other side were some low trees. This seemed like a better spot to camp because I could tuck myself in between them.

The wash may have taken its name from the Old Ripsey Mine, or the mine may have been named after the wash. I'm unsure which is correct.

Mining at Old Ripsey ceased in 1941.

Because I had cell service at this elevation, I checked in with Kim. She told me she had just handed out the last of her Halloween candy to trick-or-treaters.