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| Backpack | 6.00 Miles |
984 AEG |
| | Backpack | 6.00 Miles | 2 Days | | |
| 984 ft AEG | | 35 LBS Pack | | |
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| no partners | | "Memorial Day Weekend on the Mogollon Rim? Who won't be camping there?" Looking to avoid all human contact and test out some new backpacking gear, I decided to go off trail and spend the night alone. Turning off of the Rim Road Freeway, I stashed my truck in the trees, shouldered my pack, and walked off into the forest late on Saturday afternoon.
At the first canyon crossing, elk were grazing in a beautiful meadow. I admired them for a bit before they retreated into the trees. I continued on, meandering through the forest over small canyons and ridges, well away from any roads, and eventually settled on a campsite at dark.
"Hmm, why didn't I bring more water?" I thought, as I pumped from a tiny, filthy stock pond, clogging my filter. Bats circled haphazardly above, while noise from a tree nearby resulted in my first living porcupine sighting.  They would be my only company.
Dropping my pack, I became distracted by a large campfire on a distant ridge, which soon grew into a small wildfire in the windy conditions.  I nearly left before realizing it was only the moonrise.  Having set up my tent and new sleeping gear, I settled next to a log, where I relegated my cloudy stock tank water to dinner duty (after a thorough boiling). The resulting Ramen was delicious! I read for a while in the peaceful timber before crawling into my tent for the night.
Rolling out of the tent on Sunday morning, I made some oatmeal with the last of my water, then packed my gear. I took a roundabout way back, passing beneath maple canopies and aspen groves, where I encountered several elk. One narrow side canyon filled with tall and stately spruce trees proved exciting, with the discovery of an old mountain lion kill, and giant, fresh bear poop.
Emerging from the wild at my truck, I smiled. I had not seen, heard (!), or come across any sign of other humans on my off trail adventure. Success! I fired up my truck, and rolled down the road once more. Horton Spring was calling me... |
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| "…you never know when a hike might break out" -Jim Gaffigan |
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