It had been one year since our last backpacking trip, and it was high time that we went on another one.  In fact, now that we were getting back into the wild more often, we were hoping that we would be able to go backpacking more frequently.

Having spent the last month working diligently on revamping our web site, arizonahikingtrails.com, I was now looking at ways that we could return to some of the trails that we had not visited in some time to see if we could get some digital pictures to use on the site.  I had found several trails on the site that did not have pictures at all; some of these trails were ones that we had done during a brief period of time in between cameras. 

One trail in particular was the West Pinto Trail #212, which we had last done in February 2000.  I don't remember exactly why we didn't take any pictures of that particular backpacking trip, but I believe that we had broken our camera sometime before that hike.  What we did remember was that the West Pinto Trail was an impressive and easy hike leading to a place called Oak Flat, a large flat area covered with manzanita trees, in which there were several places to camp for the night.

After much research, we decided that that was where we were going to backpack that weekend.  It would be perfect for us to do with Mary: easy, nearly flat, and only two miles long.  And with the recent rains, there would be plenty of water there for us to filter for use.

While preparing for our backpacking trip into the Superstitions, we were distracted by what could have turned into a major disaster: our computer had crashed, probably as the result of some sort of virus.  I was devastated to think that all of the hard work that I had put into the web site was about to be lost; it just made me sick to my stomach.  On Friday night, while we were supposed to be packing for our trip, John spent hours in front of the computer, trying to figure out what had gone wrong.  We were both very frustrated, and I think that was why we weren't communicating very well that evening.  As a result, we forgot to pack things...important things...

Convinced that we had everything packed, we left the house at 8:00 a.m. on Saturday morning.  In addition to our backpacks, we even took the time to pack an extra change of clothes, so that we would have something clean to wear in case we wanted to take Mary someplace special after our trip.  We also packed an ice chest so that we would have cold drinks after we finished hiking on Sunday.

One thing I had forgotten to pack was the bottle of wine, to toast our first trip back out into the wild.  I had been meaning to pack two of the little bottles of wine - one for each of us - but in our rush to get out of the house, I had forgotten them.  It was no big deal, though, because we could always stop someplace in Mesa to get some.

Yeah, right!  We drove through East Mesa for the better part of an hour looking for a Circle K or a Target or even a grocery store, but we couldn't find a thing!  Eventually, we gave up and continued on our way east on US 60, until we came to the Bashas' in Apache Junction.  That was where we finally found what we were looking for. 

Having purchased our wine, we kept going on US 60 towards the Pinto Valley Mine.  That was where we would turn off to go to the Miles Trailhead.

The drive to the trailhead was impressive; in fact, it had been a very long time since I had seen such a beautiful display of green grass and wildflowers in that area.  The winter had been especially wet that year, and as a result, we not only got a good snow pack in the high country, but the whole desert was in bloom.  Everywhere you looked along FR 287A, there were wildflowers and grass and puddles of water.  It was a wonderful sight to see.

We arrived at the Miles Trailhead at 10:30 a.m. and geared up for our hike.  Then, once we were ready to hike, John asked me a question I just didn't want to hear, not at the trailhead anyway: "Did you pack Mary's sleeping bag?"

"No, did you?"

John had forgotten that he usually packed Mary's sleeping bag in with his own stuff, and he had assumed that I would do so.  Instead, her little sleeping bag was still sitting up on the shelf in the laundry room...and we were two hours from home.  It was too late to go back now; one of us was going to have to make a sacrifice.

"I'll share my bag with her," I said, knowing full well that it was going to be me.  After all, I usually shared the tent with her when we backpacked anyway; it made sense for me to share with her, rather than for John to give up his bag.  He usually slept outside, so he was going to need it out there.

We started hiking at 10:55 a.m., after sharing trail kisses at the trailhead.  From the trailhead, the West Pinto Trail was much like I remembered it: flat for the most part, a little bit exposed, but nonetheless a pleasant hike among the manzanita trees. 

The trail then drops gently towards West Pinto Creek, which was bone dry during our first visit to the area.  We were in for quite the surprise when we discovered that a lot had changed in five years.  Thanks to all of the rains, West Pinto Creek was gushing with water.

At first, we didn't think anything of it, but then, we came to the first of several creek crossings.  John crossed the creek first by hopping across the rocks, but he soon found that he had not chosen the safest path across. Most of the rocks in the creek were unstable, and as a result, he lost his footing and fell right into the creek.  That was when he decided that the best way across was to plod right through the water.  Sure, we were going to get our non-waterproof boots wet, but it was the easiest and probably the safest way across.  (He did carry Mary across the creek, because she probably would not have done well in the rushing creek water.)

The creek crossings slowed our pace down considerably, as did the terrain.  There were some parts of the trail that were so overgrown that all three of us got scratched up.  John got the worst of it, trying to hold the catclaw mimosas out of the way for Mary to pass.  At one point, while hiking up a steep pass overlooking the creek, John got cut up quite a bit trying to push back the branches of the weeds while keeping a death grip on Mary to keep her from going over the edge of the cliff!  I could see that she was about to lose her footing, and my heart was racing at the thought of her going over the side.  Before I could say a word, though, John quickly ushered Mary away from the edge of the trail and over the pass without incident.  Whew!

With all of the creek crossings and hairy moments, our "easy" hike became an exhausting one.  It took us nearly three hours to hike two miles.  About a half a mile from Oak Flat, we could tell that Mary was done for the day, so we decided to set up camp at the first available campsite that we could find.

We dropped our packs just off of the trail, a quarter of a mile from Oak Flat; and once our tent was set up, Mary crawled inside to take a nap.  (Of course, we had to console her first; she was not happy about us leaving her sleeping bag at home!)  She was exhausted, and so she slept for hours.

Meanwhile, John and I each took turns hiking to Oak Flat.  I went first, because I had energy to burn.  It took me about ten minutes to hike to Oak Flat, and when I got there, it was almost exactly as I remembered it, except that the manzanita trees were a little bit bigger.   I found the little campsite where we had camped five years ago, during that cold, cold night in the Superstitions, when I was about four months pregnant with Mary.  Ahh, memories! 

"I just hope it's not that cold tonight," I said to myself.  "Not if I have to share my sleeping bag!"

I returned ten minutes later, and then it was John's turn.  He, too, hiked to Oak Flat and even went a little bit beyond there, on the Spencer Canyon Trail, before he returned to camp.

We spent the rest of the afternoon sitting by the creek and resting.  After Mary's nap was over, the three of us went down to the creek to play Pooh Sticks.  We would each throw sticks into the creek to see which one made it to the falls first; Mary won every time, because our sticks would always get hung up on a rock or stuck in an eddy.

We also spent time skipping stones across the creek, near the spot where we were chilling our wine.  Mary, on the other hand, was throwing huge rocks into the creek, so I sat down near the wine to make sure that she didn't accidentally damage bottle.  (The wine had been transferred into a sports bottle, of course; we didn't want to risk having broken glass in the wilderness.)

Having grown tired of the creek, we then returned to camp so that Mary could play in the sand and dirt, as princesses in hiking boots usually do.  She had seen that there was a lot of sand around, so she tried to make it into a sand castle.  Although it didn't turn out exactly as she had wanted it to, she still had a lot of fun running her fingers through the dirt.

At last, dinnertime came, and that was when John discovered that we had forgotten to pack our new fuel canister.  He had packed two canisters that were almost empty and was convinced that they were going to run out while cooking dinner.  Fortunately, he was wrong; we had enough fuel left in just the one container that we weren't in any danger of having uncooked food.

That night, after eating our dinner, the three of us gathered around the campfire to stay warm.  John and I drank our wine and talked about vacation plans that we wanted to make for the coming months, and Mary played with her toys.  Just before the sun set completely, John and I then cleaned up our campsite - having learned our lesson the hard way during our last backpacking trip, we were determined to take preventative measures this time, to make darned sure that nothing disappeared this time.  We bear-bagged our food and our garbage, hung up our backpacks, and put all important items in the tent for safekeeping.

Around 7:30 that night, John had had enough fun for one day; he retired to his sleeping bag and was asleep within minutes.  Mary and I did not last much longer after that; after building up the fire to keep John warm, we crawled into the tent and prepared to make ourselves comfortable for the night.

And what a night it would be!  Although it was still a little bit warm when we went to sleep that night, it did not stay that way for long.  By 9:00 p.m., it was cold outside, and both Mary and I were shivering.  After all, mummy bags were not made for sharing.  For most of the night, in order to keep Mary as warm as possible, I spooned with her, while both of us were completely covered up by the sleeping bag.  Eventually, we built up enough body heat under the bag that, although my feet were cold, the rest of me was not.

Naturally, I didn't sleep very well that night, worrying about whether or not Mary was warm enough.  I awoke every hour or so, checked on Mary, adjusted the sleeping bag, and went back to sleep.  This went on until 5:00 in the morning, when I awoke to the sound of sticks snapping nearby.  Was it a large animal...or was it John, getting the campfire going?

I was so excited to find out that it was the latter; John was awake and was getting the campfire lit for warmth.  I immediately crawled out of the tent and joined him next to the fire, so that I could warm my cold feet.

Mary joined us about fifteen minutes later; she was so cold that she could no longer sleep.  We bundled her up next to the fire so that she could warm up; then, when she was ready to go back to bed, we put her into my sleeping bag, put that sleeping bag into John's bag, and laid her down on her sleeping pad.  Finally warm, she slept for another two hours like that and awoke refreshed and happy.

At 6:00 a.m., just after first light, John pulled down the food bag so that we could eat breakfast.  I also decided that I wanted coffee - I was going to need it after the restless night that I had had!  While boiling my water, though, the canister of fuel that we had used for dinner finally burned out, so I switched to the second one.  That one had just enough fuel left in it to boil my water; then, for the next few minutes, while the flames flickered weakly, the canister slowly burned itself out.  "See?" I told John.  "We had just enough fuel!"

Once the sun was up and Mary was awake, we started packing up camp; it was important that we begin hiking back to the Jeep as soon as possible (at least by 9:00 a.m.) because we knew now what we were in for on the way out.  We succeeded in getting everything together by 8:30; once we were geared up, we stepped onto the trail and started our long hike out.

Our return hike went much better than expected, even though it still took us three hours to hike back to the trailhead.  Having done all of the creek crossings before, we already knew which way to go, so we didn't have to rely on any route finding skills.  When we reached the overgrown area, in which Mary had almost taken a deadly tumble on the way in, John decided to go ahead of us and cut down as much of the catclaw mimosas as he could.  (These are non-native plants anyway, so we had no qualms about cutting them down to make passage easier.)  That enabled Mary to go over that dangerous pass without panicking me again.

Towards the end of the hike, though, Mary was getting grouchy, so John decided that it was time to pull out the heavy guns.  He promised Mary that, if she was good and hiked all the way to the car, he would take her someplace special after we were done.  But he wouldn't tell her where we were going...at least, not until we had gotten ourselves lost, only a half of a mile from the trailhead!  We took a wrong turn and ended up at the gates to Miles Ranch.  Getting back onto the trail involved some bushwhacking through the manzanita, and that didn't sit well with Mary.  John finally had to tell Mary where he was planning to take her, just to motivate her enough to finish the hike.

He was going to take us to see the new animated movie Robots.  Mary was so excited that she hiked as hard as she could all the way to the end of the trail.

Tired, dirty, and even a bit sore, the three of us arrived back at the trailhead exactly twenty-four hours after leaving it.  After throwing our packs into the back of the Jeep, the three of us changed into our clean clothes then drove away. 

En route to the movie theater, we stopped at McDonald's drive-thru in Apache Junction for lunch.  (It was not the healthiest choice for lunch, but it worked.)  From there, it was on to Arizona Mills Mall in Tempe, to see Robots, a movie that all three of us enjoyed.  It was a great reward for having endured such a difficult hike.

One thing was for sure: that had been a typical Verley adventure...and it was one that we would always remember.  (In other words, hopefully we won't forget Mary's sleeping bag again!)

On a side note: upon returning home that afternoon, John went back to work on the computer, to try to save it from the virus.  After all, I had a web site to work on and new pictures to add to it.  The very next day he discovered that it was not a virus after all that had caused the computer to crash: it was a Microsoft security patch!  He managed to repair the damage, and we were up and running again.

Return to Naked in the Woods.