— Tuesday, February 22

After spending the morning poring over different routes on Gaia (mostly Luke’s work), Luke and I decided on a route through the White Canyon Wilderness south of Superior that we affectionately nicknamed the “Winter Storm Route” because of the incoming weather forecast. We chose a line through White Canyon that would take us to the old AZT, by which we would connect to the Gila river canyons passage of the AZT, continue north past the rainwater collector, and then break east again to the canyon’s mouth, sometimes off-trail. We chose this route because of its elevation (3700 ft max, 1,600 ft min — the low point of the AZT), and because the weather in this region only showed storms on Tuesday night and Wednesday, not continuously through both days as in the higher mountains to the north and south. The line we would take through the canyon was described by the founder of Hike AZ affectionately as “Bruce’s Masterpiece” (Bruce being a friend of the founder). Stoke level was high. Thanks Bruce!

After a slow morning we finally meandered to the starting access by 1:30 hauling a Carl’s Jr. resupply. In the upper canyon the 4×4 road gave way to washes that ebbed and flowed circuitously and gently downward, channeling into occasional narrows before flattening out again into sandy washes and grassy flats. Some dry falls exist in the middle canyon that drop into small puddles but can be bypassed with some class 3 scrambling on the western flank — not terribly exposed, but still something to take your time with. The canyon was not flowing and was dry save for some stagnant puddles and ponds, but still, the smooth polished rock of dry falls and the occasional swept tree told ominously of the power of the canyon’s waters during flash floods. Still, we saw ample evidence of cows everywhere outside the wilderness boundary, and of wildlife all the way down. We even had a brief standoff with a bull blocking the wash.

Making it through the canyon by nightfall with the expectation of rain, we camped along the 4×4 road that comprises the old AZT. That night I discovered that my phone charging port was obstructed by something, and after trying unsuccessfully to clean it, I decided to turn my phone off to save battery.

— Wednesday, February 23

We were blessed overnight with no rain, and, in fact, though dark clouds loomed to the north, we hiked under clear skies through our stop at the last Gila River access at 11:30. Incidentally this was the spot where Erik and I met Danielle (?), and where we spoke to the Panda Packs maker. The 4 liters I trekked out yesterday afternoon lasted me to there even with plenty to spare.

Donning rain jackets, we turned north toward the rain collector, and as expected the downpour was upon us by noon. The Goretex Montbell Storm Cruiser performed very well, though unfortunately I lacked true rain pants, so my legs became quite cold — so, we just trekked on to stay warm. Luke’s Frog Togs bottoms did him well, though he said they were stuffy. Eventually the rain turned to snow, and in not so long there was a solid inch of it covering the desert landscape, more blowing down horizontally all the while — the winter storm we came for!

9.5 miles to the rain collector in the storm and its punishing cold flew by fast without stops, and by the time we arrived around 3:30 we were ready to be done. After huddling behind the collector to rewarm for a moment, we cleared tent spots in the snow and set our shelters up in sequence. The storm powered on, waxing and waning as night fell, though the forecast promised blue skies the next day: our silver lining of escape from the miserable cold.

By the end of day I realized we had seen no humans since setting out the day prior. I was wet and cold, but it felt powerful to experience such a place completely alone.

Thursday, February 24

It turned out the condensation on my toe box from the night before had clumped the down, so, early on, I donned a Mylar blanket to wrap my legs. Somehow overnight, however, the torso of my sleeping bag also became wet. Needless to say, sleep was not particularly high-quality, though at least I got enough of it by volume.

An hour or so after dawn the sun crept out from behind the hills onto our shelters, beckoning us out to an astonishing sight: the entire desert veiled in snow, tufts of fog drifting between the hills — sheer white and radiant in the morning light. Saguaro cacti, even, were dressed for Christmas, and at just 3,700 feet the low desert had been transformed to alpine wonderland — a stark change from what this place looked like in April of 2020 when I last passed through.

I discovered this morning that my camera was no longer working, displaying the same “turn off power then on again” error as in the Sierra last summer. I worried that I had frost damaged my camera once again, so I removed the battery and stashed it for the day with plans to deal with it later.

We enjoyed the alpine desert morning while it lasted, meandering around camp as our things dried in the sun. At some point two modded Jeeps pulled up on the 4×4 route, our first human contact in two days. Two men from Phoenix had come out driving and were quite surprised to see us. We chatted for a bit before they continued on; not so long after, we packed up and hit the trail again ourselves, hoping to make it back to the car by evening so we could celebrate Arthur’s birthday.

The old AZT was slow-going, with plenty of route-finding needed to guess the snow-covered trail’s intended path. By 2pm when we came to its junction with Bruce’s Masterpiece route, however, the snow was gone — the elusive alpine desert come and gone in only a day.

The ridge walk down into White Canyon gave stunning views of the surrounding desert: Mount Lemmon towered in the south, still almost completely white. Descending into the canyon again and climbing back up onto the opposite rim, we bypassed the class 3 scrambling of the outgoing leg with more mellow cross-country walking and views. After a stroll back through the upper canyon washes and narrows, we arrived back at the car by 5:30, making good time on the day with our 11:30am start.

Fifteen minutes later, we popped out near Superior and promptly discovered the Russian military had invaded Ukraine on three fronts, which we were not enthused to hear.

© 2022 Ilyas Taraki