Canelo West

Passage Three: Mile 36.2 Canelo Pass Trailhead to Mile 53 at Patagonia, AZ

Day 6: I wake up happy and warm at the trailhead to Passage 3. Running low on H20, I head for that bright blue water I saw from above the day before. Hands loaded with my bladder and Nalgene, I find the small pond between the trailhead and the more well known but dry Flower Tank. It's a beautiful day and the water is a blissful blue, happy birds flap away when I approach and the surface is reflecting a mirrored image of the trees and sky. A little slice of heaven.

A get to the shore, and something is amiss. It smells awful. The shoreline is covered in cow patties. Flies buzz and weave and encircle me. The water is not blue, it's actually a filmy green and I swear it's the same ooze that Slimer from Ghostbusters is made from. The blue is the sky reflecting, which is the worst optical illusion ever. I stood there, weighing my options. Well, I guess I'll have to go chemical on this one, I thought as I bent down and put my Nalgene to the surface. I was scooping in some water and oh my god, I saw something revolting... a very large, very dead frog.

Repulsed, I stepped back. I can't drink this. To think, I thought Cement Water Trough was gross and I had absolutely no idea. I would drink that water in a heartbeat now. How far is it to the next water? I checked the map, 4 miles at Down Under Tank. How much good water to I have? Half a liter. Hm.

Alright, time for a plan. I'll grab one Nalgene full of the dead frog Slimer water, get the chemical tablets started now and in addition, I'll filter it before I consume it but I really hope I don't have to drink it. Better to have than have not when it comes to water.

I scoop up the stinky slime. My clear Nalgene turns green in color. I leave that foul place, add the chemical tablets, pack up my bag and head for the hills. 

4 miles to go: I drink .25L so there's  .25L left of good water. The trail goes up an incline and I'm chugging along and the sun gets higher and higher in the sky. I'm getting thirsty, but I've been thirstier. If I just make this hill, I'll be alright.

3 miles to go: I suck the last .25L out of the filter. There's not much pressure, so I have to lift the bladder over my head and suck a mixture of air bubbles and water droplets out of the hose...slap the wine bag, Tour d'Franzia style. Thirsty, but I will not drink the frog water. I've reached the top, and it's all downhill now.

2 miles to go: My mouth is dry. Why am I sweating so much? I need to keep in that water! I'm really thirsty. I really don't want to drink the frog water, but I'm going to have to soon. I'm going downhill now, which means I'll have to go back up.

Then, I see a large pool of water as I cross from one dirt road to the next. Is it a mirage in the desert? There's blue, a stark contrast to the sea of prairie-like golden grassland, glistening for me in the sun. That must be it. That's not that far, I can make that. The sight of the blue quenched my thirst and I had the strength to keep on trekking. 

The road wound nearer and nearer to the blue, and then abruptly took a sharp right turn. Noooooo, that's away from the pond! 

What's a gal to do now? I'm so thirsty. Do I go for what I see with my own eyes that looks about 2 miles away or go for what the map tells me which is also two miles away?

I decide for some weird reason, that I was going to trust the trail. What if it was a mirage? I'm sure it wasn't, but just in case, I'm not about to be lured by some phony water. I won't be fooled by illusions twice in one day. Then, I'd be worse off and four miles from the known water source. Trust the trail. You have the frog water if you can't make it.

1 mile to go: So thirsty, it is hard to think. It feels like the sun is shooting rays directly at me. I'm melting into the mud. It's time, Kara. You're going to have to drink the frog water. It's going to be okay. You have purification tablets and a filter. It's better to drink bad water than none at all.

I look at the map. 1 mile. I can handle that. I can do anything for a mile. I plod along, with each step getting closer, but seemingly not close enough. Slower and slower until I finally reach what looks like a little streambed. I follow it along until it leads to Down Under Tank. I've made it.

There's a mess of cows around, relaxing and munching on grass but if I've learned anything this week, it's that looks can be deceiving. Bathtub Spring looked a little gross but had clear water, the blue pool looked beautiful from afar but was disgusting. Surely cow water is better than dead frog Slimer water?

There's a little green algae on the edge, but this pond is big and deep enough that if I go the steep sided embankment and fill'er up that it should be fine. I happily pour out the frog water and dip my Nalgene in. Crystal clear. I drink through the filter voraciously. Ah I instantly feel like a million bucks. Any day you don't have to drink frog water is a good day. I sit in the shade eating a snack, sipping frequently to regain total hydration and playfully moo at the cows. 

Feeling refreshed, I looked at the map and the time and thought I should try for Patagonia, mile 53. It's a stretch but I could make up for some lost time yesterday and truly have a zero day tomorrow.

I sped on. I hiked through Cott Tank Enclosure which is a cool riparian rehab zone and out to Red Bank Well. Red Bank has a windmill and a large metal tank just shooting out water which is super convenient. 

From there, it was through Red Rock Canyon (which frankly, isn't as impressive as other famous red rock sites in the US) and a lot a lot a lot cattle grazing land. The rest of passage, with its tall grass reminds me more of my home near the prairie than any place I pictured in Arizona. 

I kept chugging along as it got darker and darker. I was thinking of calling it a quits but as I crested the last big hill and saw the lights of Patagonia, I couldn't help pushing through. I did the last 2 miles on the trail with a headlamp and got to Harshaw Road around 7:30. From there, it was 3 road miles to town. I'm kind of glad I came in late because road mile are never as interesting as being on the trail itself. 

After hiking a total of 17 miles, I made to town and got a room at the Stage Stop Inn, a lovely establishment. I took one of the most worthwhile showers of my life and looked in the mirror, it looks like someone beat the crap out me. 

Tired eyes, rough looking feet, mysterious gashes in my legs...I've got scrapes on my shoulders from backpack straps and cuts on my arms from mesquite thorns. I'm only 53 miles in, but I feel like I'm starting to change. I'm a shade tanner, a dash thinner, and a bit tougher than I was before. What will I look like in another 50 miles? In 100? In 750? I guess we'll have to find out. But first, I'm going to eat an entire El Sassy pizza from the Velvet Elvis. (To be continued...)