Monday, Feb 17th 2025, 0710-1840
Past Leroy Tank to Bill Williams River, mm 42.5 Section 5
25 miles.
It was another long but incredibly productive day! I didn’t get as early of a start as I wanted to. It was chilly in the morning, which I should have taken better advantage of because it got pretty hot in the afternoon. The morning was relatively easy-going as I walked across a low valley between ranges. I was glad to put the Harcuvar range behind me as I headed north and west on a series of dirt roads and in washes. The valley seemed really remote, so I was surprised that I had cell signal. I could see some towers on top of the Harcuvar range, so that’s probably where it was coming from.
I passed by a guzzler and tested the water. The last report said there were only 1-2 feet left, but I stuck my trekking pole deep in the back of the trough and it didn’t touch bottom. So I’d guess there was at least 4- 5′ worth of water. I also don’t know how deep underground the tanks go, so there could be hundreds if not thousands of gallons….I bet that would make for an interesting cave dive! But more important than the depth was the quality. A thick slime of algae coated my trekking pole when I pulled it out. Based on this, I didn’t even try to collect water.
Luckily there was a piped cow trough in just 4 more miles. I arrived there just past 11 am, so it made for a great early lunch break. Not meaning to, I scared some cows away as I approached. They were extremely skittish. I always feel bad about this because I hate to disturb them from their water needs. I vowed to take a quick break, but the comfort of the shade from the big metal tanks pulled me in.
After a bit, I heard the rattle of a truck and trailer approaching. It was the rancher, arriving to run the generators that pumped the water. This was the first well I’d seen that operated in such a manner… usually the pumps were run by solar or wind. It would seem that such a system requires a lot more attentiveness from the rancher, but I didn’t inquire as to what frequency he had to come out.
He was incredibly nice, though (and probably quite nonplussed to find a woman sitting under his tank). I briefly told him the gist of my mission (Tucson to San Diego) and he was just like “hum?” He was definitely the stoic type, a classic cowboy, but surprisingly young. He offered me granola bars, which I politely declined ( that’s my least favorite thing already in my pack!), and then water. I sheepishly admitted that I’d helped myself to 2 liters already. “Oh, I hope it tastes all right,” was all he said in a genuinely concerned tone. I did tell him about the dead frog in the cow trough (luckily I’d been able to collect straight from the float valve). He went directly over and fished it out. Maybe I helped in this small manner…can a dead frog make cows sick?
His arrival coincided perfectly with the end of my break. Nice as he was, I was anxious to keep moving and let him do his work. I didn’t want to make any ranchers upset by hanging around too long…. especially if it could negatively affect their cows. As I left, I reflected on just why this route was going to have to stay under Brett’s tight control. Imagine if this rancher started having tens or more hikers taking water from his tank every day. And then inevitably, someone would camp right next to the corral and prevent the cows from being able to drink. It just wouldn’t work.
I crossed the paved road leading to Lake Alamo State Park and briefly fantasized about taking this more direct and undoubtedly easier path to my destination. But no, I had to honor the route maker and take the scenic route. Besides, the paved road was heavily traveled by giant RVs and trailers, with not even a hit of a shoulder. It would have been dangerous to walk on. So I will say this for the next 10 miles I hiked in the heat of the day: I enjoyed some really good burro trails, I finally got to see some burros, and the final wash \ canyon was very beautiful.
But the rest of the details of the afternoon weren’t great for me. I had multiple factors going against me: The heat of the afternoon, wanting to get to the lake to see a friend that was supposed to be coming to visit, longing for a cold coke, and just the miles adding up at the end of a long day. The route got very detailed, with so many twists and turns, jumping from one jeep trail to another and wash after wash after wash. Oh and the rocky hills these jeep trails climbed! So much up and down. Ugh. Fun in a jeep, not on feet! I was surprised that I hadn’t heard that this stretch was so laborious.
Of note, both accounts I’d read were from the perspective of people that had done it first thing in the morning. I’d already experienced this discrepancy in regards to previous descriptions. It worked both ways. There were parts that I’d found relatively easy compared to how Buck30 or Recon described them. Their tough times, unsurprisingly, usually came in the afternoon. Then there were parts like today, which I found very taxing, but both of them glanced over quickly. So much had to do with the timing of the day.
I found the burros in Spence canyon, though I’d been seeing evidence of them everywhere for days. I even found a leg of one unfortunate deceased burro. I was surprised to note that they came in a variety of different colors, just like horses. There were black, dark gray, light gray and even brown burros. They didn’t run away fast, but slowly started walking up the hill. A couple of them snorted at me. It was a nice distraction watching them for a few minutes.
I was so relieved to finally come to the end of Spence Canyon and walk into the campground. I immediately went to the bathroom to take a shower to cool down, I was so hot. It felt so good to rinse all the sweat off. I rinsed my clothes as well. Then I went to the camp store, only to find that the guy was just locking the door. I’d been so stupid not to check their closing time which was right now, 5 pm! “Oh no!” I cried, putting on my saddest face. It worked. The amazingly kind ranger let me in for just a few minutes in order to grab a burrito, hot pocket, COLD COKE, plus some other snacks. I can’t believe that the bill for all that only came to $11! What a score and did I get lucky!
I sat on the front porch eating my bounty and letting my clothes dry in the late afternoon sun. I was sad to hear that my friend Jon couldn’t make it, so I decided to keep walking a few miles further to a camp site along the river. I had no desire to stay in the developed campsite, which had been my plan provided Jon was there. Staying in a tent with a bunch of strangers that were all sleeping in fancy RVs and running their generators, dogs barking all night, was not appealing.
I walked the road all the way to where a cross country stretch departed. Seeing as how it was already almost dark, no one was around, and me being a pretty stealthy and swift individual, I may or may not have considered a more easy road alternate. The original route led down a slot canyon, but floods had made some of the pour-offs rather impassible. The new route went up a ridge, undulating for several miles, then steeply down into the canyon. The army corps of engineers had built a fine road to the dam and down below it, which for obvious security reasons, was closed to the public. I decided to declare myself a sovereign nation for the next 30 minutes and deny the existence of the US government… I’m pretty disgusted with it at the moment anyway. Hayduke lives! (But I also don’t condone blowing up dams, especially when I’m camping right below one.)
Flash forward a bit, I reached the canyon and found a beautiful sandy spot next to the river. This was the first time I got to camp next to a flowing and mostly natural water source along the route. Technically, I also spent my second night of the journey camping next to the Romero pools, but that wasn’t part of the official route. The temperature was very warm and the sound of the water was so comforting. What a great campsite and a great day!