Monday, Feb 10th 2025, 1130-1800
Buckeye, beginning of Sec 3 to Gila river, Gillespie dam area, mm15, section 3.
15 miles.
I dragged my feet getting out of town. As usual, the day before had slipped away from me and I still had many chores left to do… especially this blog! I left the hotel reasonably early…or at least well before check-out (poor form for a hiker), but I needed to pick up a small box from the post office, which opened at 8:30. I didn’t recall what all was in the box, so until I got it, I couldn’t go food shopping.
Along the way, I looked for a cafe but Google maps didn’t show that anything was open. Go figure that Starbucks was offering free coffee this morning, but do you think there’s a Starbucks in downtown Buckeye? Definitely not. The nearest one was in some strip mall out by I-10, more than 6 mi away. Fortunately, I found a coffee truck that was also advertising crepes, so I couldn’t resist treating myself to a delicious crepe. The nice proprietor, Evette, let me store my pack while I ran to the PO to get my box. Then I used the table to take stock of my food and do some repackaging. Then she took all my trash and gave me some water, so I got a lot of bang for my bucks at this cute little coffee stand.
Evette had a slight Spanish accent (something I don’t even notice anyone living in Miami), as did most people in this town, so we talked a little about the current state of affairs in terms of immigration and deportations. Someone very dear and close to me is also a Hispanic immigrant (as well as a legal US citizen), so these times and issues really are touching our lives directly. I didn’t ask Evette “where she was from” or anything of that nature. She did tell me that she’d lived in AZ for over 30 years. Arizona, like south Florida, has long been a melting pot of cultures. Thanks to this, Buckeye was blessed with Calitacos, Mex-Jap fusion, and a great coffee stand. The American Dream.
Immigrant, “legal” or not, when you have one on one interactions with people around the US, you note the many things we all have in common and the important contributions they are making to this country. These are people enriching our lives, living as our neighbors, performing important work. They are not “the enemy.” If everyone were to just delete social media, stop watching the news, and go for a walk to meet others, we wouldn’t be so divided.
I’m on a lot of soap boxes this trip. Hayduke lives! I appreciate that another hiker ahead of me, a beast of a woman that goes by the name Sketchy, keeps leaving this proclamation in the BLM logbooks. See, I’m not the only solo female walking through the desert. Too bad I’m 2-3 weeks behind her, because I sure would love to meet her and swap stories. Maybe someday.
I did some final food shopping at the DG and called an Uber. I originally thought I might take a zero in Buckeye, but I couldn’t stand the thought of another night in the crummy hotel with jacked-up rates. Plus my toilet was clogged. The room had done the trick for one night, but was noisy and just made me feel gross. So it was time to head back to camping in the dirt and cow shit. Too bad I didn’t have the nice Airbnb situation that I had in AZ City, otherwise I probably would have taken a zero.
I started walking mid-day, just as the heat was getting intense again. Great timing on my part. I also wasn’t mentally prepared for the crazy steep cross country piece that led over the Buckeye hills. Holy crap. It was probably the most difficult stretch I’d done up to that point. The footing was some of the worst gravel and chossy broken rock I’d ever encountered. Every step felt like it was about to give out. I was feeling very flat, with a poor night’s sleep, bit of a headache, and no spring in my step. I was also still fighting off a cold, so my throat was sore and my nose stuffy. I just was not into this challenge this day. Again, bad timing on my part.
But I did it anyway, because I didn’t really have a choice. I carried enough water from town to get through the first 15 miles. Doug left a few gallons for me near old hwy 80, where I planned to camp this night. So I had to at least get that far. I did pass a guzzler, but it had some of the worst looking water yet. I made it over the steep pass without falling or injuring myself and breathed a sigh of relief. The rest of the miles were just some easy overland cross country and canal walking. Thank goodness.
I reached the bridge right at sunset and retrieved my jug of water shortly after. I finally spotted some bighorn sheep. The old trestle bridge was pretty cool, too. The dam had been broken by a flood many years ago, so the scene was a bit apocalyptic. It was sad to see the mighty Gila River reduced to such a quagmire of human meddling. I could have gotten water from the river but I also know too well the abuse the river goes through to get to this point. I’ve basically walked from the headwaters of the Gila in New Mexico, past all the copper mines and cotton fields that it feeds. There are some nasty things in that water by the time it gets here.
I didn’t like the area for camping one bit but I was out of options. The area was too accessible by cars, and there were a number of guys about, fishing in the river and what not. I tried to be discreet in my sneaking down the dirt road, but sometimes I can’t help but attract attention. Mostly I was concerned about the four dogs that Doug had seen earlier when setting the cache. They seemed to be feral. I set up my tent, out of sight in the mesquite, just as it was getting dark. Then I immediately heard the dogs barking and got scared. Would they harass me while I was pinned inside my tent? The night would tell, which wasn’t a comforting way to go to sleep. But at least I had plenty of water thanks to Doug. Plus he knew exactly where I was, should something happen to me.