Kathy Simko's Arizona Trail Trek - Entry 2 - A Shaky Start

by Kathy Wednesday, April 20th 2016

Almost everybody has many demands on their time; I am in this group.  Long story short, I started the AZT exhausted.  Because I was exhausted, I needed some rest and therefore got a late start leaving Tucson for the trailhead in Mexico.  Thankfully, I was well organized ahead of time, so it could have been much worse.  In any event, Nick and I pulled up to Montezuma Pass at about 11AM, grabbed a few items and headed to the Mexican border.  

You cannot drive to the southern starting point of the AZT.  You park at Montezuma Pass and hike 1.8 miles to the border, dropping 730 feet.  Then, you start the AZT.  Nick and I had a celebratory beer on the border and then headed back to Montezuma Pass.

I ate an avocado, banana and a protein bar, shouldered my backpack and started walking - it was 2PM, extremely windy and my Deuter backpack was fully loaded with enough provisions to get me to Patagonia, AZ...or so I thought.

My butt was handed to me on this first day!  With 1,225 feet of elevation gain in the first couple of miles, a "heavy" pack and wind gusts up to 50 mph, which literally blew me off my feet several times as I traversed the Crest Trail high in the Huachuca Mountains, I only covered about four miles on my first day.  I had planned to go 17.5 miles on day one.  I finally found a tiny patch of flat ground out of the wind and made camp at 6PM.  There I was - tired, cold and already a whole day behind schedule.

The next morning, I pulled it together and made it to Scotia Canyon, where I planned to be on first night.  Got up early, was hustling and missed a turn early in the day.  My internal compass alerted me after about 5/8 of a mile, so I backtracked, found the route and headed to the Canelo Hills, which had   A LOT of adventure in store for me.

As I was cruising through the Canelo Hills East, a helicopter popped over a ridge and hovered over me aggressively.  I truly did not know what the pilot was trying to communicate to me with his hand signals, so I gave him the thumbs up and kept hiking.  He instantly pulled away from me, but did not leave.  That bird landed in a precarious spot in the Canelo Hills!  Moreover, the pilot jumped out and ran after me yelling, "Stop!  Stop!"

So I did.  As it turned out, this was a Cochise County Search & Rescue helicopter looking for a lost hiker wearing a long sleeved light blue shirt and khaki pants.  That's exactly what I was wearing.

As the day wore on, I realized I was virtually out of food - I was supposed to be in Patagonia tonight getting a resupply from Dave Baker/Dave Boyd.  I was not going to make it.  Remember, I was a day behind my initial itinerary.  From a high saddle, I sent them a text message.  They met me at Canelo Pass Trailhead, where I'd be camping that night, with all kinds of goodies, smiles and encouragement. 

Even though Dave & Dave saved the day on the night of the third day, I still needed a resupply the following day in Patagonia.  I was too cold, tired and overwhelmed with everything to think clearly that night.  I set my tent up in the dark as they drove away and managed to eat dinner - Dave Baker had gone to the Summit Hut and picked one of my favorite vegan entrees, Backpacker's Pantry "Pad Thai." 


Fred Ronstadt Hardware Company - Tucson, AZ

I woke up and was grateful for the generous assistance Dave & Dave had given me.  I was also psyched to get to Patagonia - it was only 16.6 miles away.  As I was hiking through the Canelo Hills West, I took pictures of some cool stuff.  A fully functional windmill from the Fred Ronstadt Hardware Company, Tucson, AZ...An intriguing man made rock structure that seemed to be a gigantic hearth that morphed into a tiny house...I walked up to this rustic building through the tall grass to take my photo and that's when I spotted it - a large thick Mojave Green Rattlesnake cruising through the curves in the layers of rock.  This guy never rattled.  I saw him lift his head and make eye contact with me...oh those hooded eyes!  He immediately approached me...my heart stopped beating and I ran away without a picture of the King of the Mojave Mansion.  Due to the additional neurotoxin Mojaves deliver, a bite while in an extremely remote area like this would have most likely be fatal.  I was shook up for days following my encounter.


The 'Mojave Mansion' - Canelo Hills, AZ

Even though it was only 16.6 miles, it was a long 16.6.  It was a very warm day and I hiked up and over ridges all day long.  It got late in the day. The final approach into Patagonia is three miles along a paved road - yuck.  I finally rolled into town at about 5:45pm and my spirits were very low. Dave and Dave were there waiting for me and I could tell they saw the look of despair in my eyes.  We went to the ice cream store and Dave Boyd bought me a cone, but I couldn't eat it.  I felt like my thru-hike, an opportunity of a lifetime, was slowly slipping away from me.  Right then and there, we had a heart to heart talk.  Dave Baker initiated it.  In his calm and eloquent way, he basically said my initial itinerary wasn't working and I totally agreed with what he was saying.  I had overestimated my daily mileage and this way of hiking was not fun at all. 


Utah Zuke makes it to Patagonia, AZ

Arriving at your campsite exhausted as the sun is setting is not for me.  Furthermore, being in calorie deficit and now feeling cold because you're wet with sweat from hiking all day make it even worse.  But wait, there's more!  You still need to find a good spot, make camp, eat and do your evening chores before going to bed.

So, that evening in Patagonia, we all agreed to hit the reset button on my thru-hike.  Also, we initially just looked at a new itinerary in three-day increments.  Dave & Dave were totally into sticking with me and being extremely flexible with their time and personal schedules.  Additionally, they told me not to worry about anything - between the two of them, someone could help me when I needed it.  I was overwhelmed with gratitude and was unable to verbalize how wonderful this reset made me feel.  Mostly though, I felt a wave of relief wash over me.

We decided to cut the daily mileage back to 13 a day and build it back up again when I could.  This new plan totally changed my resupply schedule and locations, but Dave & Dave assured me everything was fine.  We loaded my pack with three days of food and I walked out of Patagonia towards the Santa Rita Mountains tired, hungry and feeling ecstatic.

I had to hike another four miles before I left the residential areas and could camp, but I didn't care at all.  It was 9PM when I finally found an acceptable campsite along Temporal Gulch Road and I was joyful because my thru-hike had been salvaged by my friends, Dave & Dave.

 

Cheers!

Utah Zuke

 

 

Activities | Skills | Trails | Trips

Kathy Simko's Arizona Trail Trek - Entry 1 - The Journey Begins

by Kathy Wednesday, April 13th 2016

Hi there!  This is Kathy Simko and I am employed full-time by the Summit Hut.  I am usually fitting feet in the footwear department, but currently I am thru-hiking the Arizona Trail, which traverses Arizona 800 miles from the border of Mexico to the border of Utah, and my trail name is Utah Zuke.

I began this adventure on March 22, 2016.  I realize this blog post is tardy and I apologize.  This solo trek has been truly challenging and frankly, I've been too exhausted and/or too busy with meeting my basic needs - water, food and shelter.  However, I now believe I've got my legs under me and can begin sharing some of my stories and thoughts with you.


Utah Zuke on the Mexican border, 3-22-16

First though, I want to address the common question: "Why are you doing this?"  The one word answer is selfishness.  Let me explain... 

1) I am truly happier on the trail.  I have backpacked a fair amount in Arizona and it has been a long term love affair.  The trips have never been long enough though; after three to five days, just when you're getting into the swing of trail life, it's time to go back to the city.  This has always given me the blues.  So, backpacking across amazing Arizona, through some of my favorite places, for about SIXTY days is immensely appealing to me.

2)  I had become bored and complacent with the "routine" of everyday life.  I work in customer service, and have for ten years straight, so I knew I needed an extended break from it.  I love helping people, but knew I needed to do something just for me.

I needed to be challenged cognitively and physically.  I needed some "unknown."

I am not trying to raise awareness for anything.  I am not hiking for a cause.  I am not trying to fund a project.  Like I said, this is a selfish endeavor. 


Camp One in the Huachuca Mountains, 3-22-16

About a year ago, I was backpacking with my dear friend, Jennifer Hnatov, in the Rincon Mountains and we discussed thru-hiking the AZT in Spring of 16, so the bug was in my ear.  Nothing really came of it until January 2016.  Then a perfect storm of planning came crashing down on me in the lunchroom at Summit Hut on January 8th.  I was eating lunch with my good friend and colleague, Nick Johnson, and out of the blue he asked, "When are you going to thru-hike the AZT?"  Immediately followed by, "I can take care of your dogs while you're away."  Nick had recently thru-hiked the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT), so I was encouraged by his bode of confidence in my abilities.  Right then and there, I decided to do it and submitted my time-off request before clocking back in.  Within three days, Summit Hut granted me the time off.  Then I found the funding needed from a forgotten IRA.  It was time to plan and purchase a lot of Backpacker's Pantry dehydrated meals!


Day Two - still very cold at elevation in the Huachuca Mountains, 3-23-16

Dave Baker, founder and previous owner/operator of the Summit Hut, is a friend of mine and crushed the AZT in 2008.  He was the first person I contacted to get an idea of the magnitude of a hike like this.  He and his best buddy, Dave Boyd, were extremely gracious and agreed to help me with not only planning, but resupplying me along the way as well.  As you will see, Dave & Dave not only helped me, they saved my trip and more...

Cheers!

Utah Zuke

Activities | Gear | Skills | Trails | Trips

What's That Thing On Your Back?

by Ian Wednesday, May 6th 2015

The first hairpin turn on Catalina Highway as the road begins its long climb up to Mt Lemmon. Marshall Gulch trailhead. Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado. Hueco Tanks State Park outside of El Paso. Little Cottonwood Canyon in Salt Lake City. These places all have something in common: if you visit them enough as an outdoorsperson, you’re likely to see people walking around with a strange, large, mat-looking thing on their backs.

Your author, wearing a crashpad on his back, ready to go bouldering

 In fact, you’re likely to see me with one of those strange things on my back. And, if you’re like most outdoorspeople, you won’t know what it is. It sort of looks like a backpack, but it's an awfully large and strangely shaped backpack. Again, if you’re like most people, you’ll stop me and ask “Say, what's that thing on your back?!”

 I’ve heard some creative ideas about what might be on my back: 

“Are those sleds you’ve got on your backs?”

“What do you have on your backs there, hang-gliders?” 

“Those look like comfortable camping mats on your backs!” 

“Are those massage tables for wilderness massage?”

None of those ideas is correct, unfortunately. What they are are four foot by five foot slabs of 3-6” foam that fold in half and have backpack straps attached for carrying. What they do is soften the ground for the inevitable falls that happen in the sport of bouldering. They are called “crash pads,” “sketch pads,” or, as they say in the UK, “bouldering mats.” 

For whatever reason, the sport of bouldering is still fairly obscure and so needs some introduction. Simply put, it’s a form of rock climbing. But instead of climbing 50-2,000 foot cliffs with safety lines, boulderers climb 8-20+ foot boulders. A particular face on a boulder can have several different routes (or ways of reaching the top, called “boulder problems”) of varying difficulty; those who found the boulder will have named the problems and assigned them difficulty ratings. 

Me about to begin climbing a problem called Hairpin Roof Right at the base of Mt Lemmon. Note the crashpad strategically placed in the “fall zone” behind me.

The ratings go from V0, all the way up to V15 or V16 (there’s currently some contention among the sport’s elite about how hard the world’s hardest boulder problems are). Just about anyone in good physical conditioning (and proper rock climbing shoes) ought to be able to get up a V0 after a few tries. But by the V2 rating, only very practiced rock climbers who have developed specialized strength and coordination will be able to climb the boulder problem. Most recreational boulderers who have been at it for more than a year or two top out at the V6-8 range, while the number of people in the world capable of climbing V15 or V16 is almost certainly less than 20. 

Me in the middle of climbing Hairpin Roof Right 

Like all climbers, boulderers wear specialized shoes, and we keep our hands well-dusted with gymnastic chalk while we climb to prevent slipping from sweat and finger grease. (Climbers’ pants are constantly covered in a fine coat of white chalk dust.)  

Dusting my hands with chalk before beginning a climb.

We carry toothbrushes around that we use to scrub chalk dust and finger grease off of the hand-holds on the boulder problems we are trying (“Why are you guys cleaning the rocks?” is a question I’ve heard more than a few times!) And we might spend weeks trying to climb a single boulder problem — learning the individual hand and foot movements, and doing them in sequence, is a bit like learning a dance or gymnastic routine. 

Modern bouldering’s heritage begins, in large part, with the exploits of the famed American climber John Gill. In the 1950s and 1960s, rock climbing was a very new sport and still rooted in its mountaineering past: the challenges climbers sought were the biggest, most majestic cliffs, and they sought to ascend them using any means necessary (hammering pitons into the rock and pulling up on them). With his gymnastics background, John Gill sought a different challenge: he wanted to see how difficult unassisted movement up rock could be. He was interested in the kinesiology of climbing movement rather than getting to the top of big cliffs. If pure physical difficulty and kinesthetic beauty are the interest, climbing boulders rather than huge cliffs starts to make sense: they’re typically more accessible and offer a relatively safe arena for pushing one’s physical limits.  

Another shot of me on Hairpin Roof Right. Note the size of the handholds — just the tips of my fingers have purchase on the rock. The size of the handholds (and how far apart they’re spaced) is one of the major factors determining the difficulty of a boulder problem. 

The question of safety brings us back to crash pads. For the first 40 years of bouldering’s history, there was no such thing as a crash pad. When you fell, you landed on the ground. I’m sure there were countless sprained and broken ankles, but nobody was dying. But as popularity and difficulty levels rose, the repeated ground falls necessary to learn a boulder problem got old. Someone had the wise idea of throwing a piece of foam on the ground. Then someone else thought to attach backpack straps to make it easier to carry.

Today, many of the world’s major outdoors brands manufacture crash pads with specialized, dual-density foam, and relatively comfortable shoulder harnesses. There are even a few smaller companies whose entire business is crash pads. Bouldering is now an international sport with competitions, professional athletes, and specialized gear. There are even indoor climbing gyms with simulated boulders and manufactured hand and foot holds. Older boulderers feel that what “counts” is what you accomplish outside on real rock, but many kids who grew up climbing only inside don’t draw that distinction — they just like fun climbing movements, whether it’s on manufactured plastic holds or features of real rocks. 

My freestanding bouldering wall for training at home

So now you know: that thing on my back is a crash pad, and it’s there because I’m going bouldering. To end, here’s a little video of me climbing a classic boulder problem on Mt Lemmon called “Jewel Thief.” It’s a pretty tall problem, and it was first done by Bob Murray in the 80s with no crash pads. Before completing this problem, I fell from the last move at the top probably two dozen times. Each time, I was very glad to have four crash pads underneath me.


Editor's Note: Bouldering and rock climbing are both dangerous sports with the potential for life-threatening injury and even death. The Summit Hut encourages our readers to seek out professional instruction if interested in learning more about them.

Adventures with prAna

by Rhonda Monday, August 4th 2014

Editor’s Note: Occasionally Summit Hut Staff Members have the opportunity to share some adventures with the folks behind some of the great brands carried at Summit Hut, gaining hands on experience with products and learning in depth details to help us provide the highest quality of knowledge and service to our customers.  Summit Hut Staff Member Rhonda recently spent some time with the folks from prAna and shared the following about her adventures:


Recently I was given the opportunity to join the folks at prAna and 6 strangers from across the country for a five day adventure in southern California. 

Upon arriving to the beautiful beach house that overlooked the peaceful and majestic Pacific Ocean in Encinitas, the other guests and I were greeted by some of the prAna crew, including trip planners Jessica and Sean. We were then treated to an amazing farm to table dinner by Dave Kennedy and his wife. The evening was full of great food and conversation.

The next morning, we all headed down to Beacon Beach for surf lessons from the guys at Encinitas Surf Lessons– and prAna ambassador Chadd. I quickly discovered that surfing is not as easy as it looks. With several wipe-outs under my belt, I finally managed to get up on my board, and ride the waves into shore. This was an empowering feeling!  Shortly after surfing, we joined prAna ambassador Michael for rooftop yoga, which left everyone feeling revitalized. Paddle boarding in Carlsbad Lagoon was next on the list. Gliding over the water felt great, though heading back proved to be quite the challenge with the wind working against us. The activity packed day was topped off with dinner out for Mexican food and margaritas with some special guests, including Beaver, the owner or prAna, and ambassadors Chris Sharma and Steph Davis to name a few.

The next day we were off to Joshua Tree in the early morning hours for a day of climbing. When we arrived to the strangely beautiful desert, we were given lessons from the experts at Vertical Adventures, and we all had our chance to climb. Another new experience for me, climbing felt counter-intuitive and was very much like solving a puzzle. After getting the hang of the concept and climbing the less intimidating routes, I took on one of tougher ones, and was ecstatic when I reached the top. Afterwards, I had the pleasure of sitting with Steph Davis in the sand and making a design with rocks and sticks as we chatted about the day. It’s no wonder why she’s such a great ambassador for prAna. She shares many of the same beliefs that prAna is centered around, and is truly an amazing and inspiring person.

Our final day began with a coffee presentation with Dave Kennedy and his wife. They also shared some of the ins and outs of prAna. I discovered how much more prAna is than just a clothing brand and how focused they are on respecting the Earth and living for the experience. I also enjoyed some of the best coffee I’ve ever had!  We then were off to prAna headquarters for yoga and a tour given by Beaver. Shortly after the tour, we went Go Kart racing with prAna members, including Beaver, who, as expected, took first place! 

This trip was a one of a kind experience. Not only because I have never surfed, climbed, or been paddle boarding, I had an opportunity to meet and get to know some of the masterminds behind such a great company. This trip echoed prAna's ideals and values.

Trips

The Authors

Dave BakerDave Baker

I'm Dave Baker, founder of Summit Hut, an independent outdoor retailer based in Tucson, Arizona since 1969. As an experienced and passionate hiker, climber and backpacker, my blog is intended to be an informative and interesting look into the outdoors and the outdoor industry.

Dana Davis

Dana Davis

I’m Dana Davis, co-owner of the Summit Hut. I mostly enjoy hiking and road biking though I often do other things to keep it interesting (mountaineering, motorcycling, backpacking, climbing, you name it!) My biggest challenge is sometimes finding the balance between career, family, and fun but it’s working out so far!

Dan Davis

Dan Davis

I'm Dan Davis, after retiring from the National Park Service as a Ranger and manager, I worked for the Summit Hut until 2009, then retired for good (maybe). I'm now spending my time traveling around the southwest writing and working on my nature and fine art photography business.

Emily Gindlesparger

Emily Gindlesparger

I’m Emily Gindlesparger, a member of the Summit Hut floor staff. Since moving here from the Midwest, I’ve been taking advantage of all possible adventures in Arizona: rock climbing, mountain biking, backpacking, whitewater kayaking, caving and trail running; I’m always excited to see what’s next!