Slowing down in the Superstition Wilderness

Over the weekend I stayed in the Superstition Wilderness east of Phoenix. It was so beautiful, so quiet, and everything I needed it to be. I woke up Saturday feeling a little overwhelmed with the endless possibilities of what I could do for the next several days. Classic overthinking. Celeste went back to Missouri for her sister’s wedding and needed someone to check in on Sookie (her toddler cat) for the week. So I have stuck around here, taking Celeste’s apartment as my own for a few days, camping a few others.

I drove an hour towards the campground I was planning to stay at, found on Campendium for its’ cheap hookups and location tucked deep inside the superstition wilderness. I grabbed some groceries and filled my water tank before heading down the winding curvy mountain road. The drive was slow, going 15mph around tight curves that hugged red stone mountains and large cacti. I made it to the campground only to find I would not have any electric and thus paying $20 for a gravel pad. I boondock as often as I can (camp on national forest/BLM land for free) but I wanted to stay inside of the canyon, and my other option was a $65 waterfront site. I scratched both ideas and drove the scenic drive back to a free site a few miles away. Camping around ‘snow birds’ and other boondockers skipping the fees of the nearby RV parks. The spot appeared to be nothing special; Rutted mud, pooling water from the recent rainstorm, and close quarters. Not long after I pulled in, an old blue camper pulled in and an older man named George Straight, ‘Not the famous one but I am George and I am straight’ came over with his walking stick to say hello. He was from Elmira, New York and had since sworn off the snow. He called me ‘Missouri Girl’ and told me that Mark Twain died in Elmira, ‘did I know?’ He wandered around the pond and on to the next neighbor, as George straight ‘not the famous one’. I watched a dog nearby outside of another GMC van, and another inside the window of an RV. I overheard a man showing off his new teardrop camper, excited to be taking it out for the first time with his wife. All evening they stood with red headlamps on, cooking and laughing in the outdoor kitchen Soon, a young couple pulled up beside me in their Class B and brought their cat and dog out of their RV, saying hello and joining me taking photos of the setting sun.

At 5pm the sun began to dip below the horizon entirely. I used my last few pieces of wood to make a fire and settled next to it in my chair, watching as my neighbors headed into their vans, campers, and rvs. Soon I joined, propping the van door open as I boiled water for soup, fire still burning outside. In the total darkness beyond the fire, I heard the hooves of horses and distant chatter. Soon there were many hooves and what sounded like a dozen men coming back from a ride down nearby trails. They were laughing and joking, and clearly had imbibed on their journey, speaking loud over their running diesel engines. I returned to my seat by the fire with my soup and watched and listened to their banter, imagining what it would be like to live their lives. Taking the horses out for a hike on a Saturday with friends, drinking and riding through the beautiful landscape. Just your average weekend, drenched in the beauty of the landscape they lived in. Like a dream. I heard someone loudly command ‘Jim says we gotta go now’ and they all piled into several vehicles and noisily pulled away. As soon as they left a man emerged from his Rv with a lantern and what I imagine to be a little lap dog. The dog had two names; something like George Bean. I laughed hearing him call his name over and over before he finally got him back inside.

For a moment as the men pulled away in their trucks, I sat entirely lit by their headlights, feeling a bit vulnerable and alarmed. I just want to share that while I romanticized their presence I was also very aware of being alone near a herd of drunk men. I tucked my camera out of site and stayed near the van until they left, ready to climb in and lock myself up if anything escalated. It didn’t, obviously. But if the hair doesn’t stand up on your neck when you’re alone at night around a dozen drunk men, you are probably not a woman. After all, ‘the world is filled with weirdos and sickos’ they’ve always told me. And it turns out, just regular guys riding horses who don’t do anything to make you feel unsafe. It gives me hope when I encounter the latter.

The next morning I attempted to take Luna on a hike in her new backpack carrier. I put her custom made athleisure outfit on and threw the carrier over my shoulder. I chose the Boulder Canyon trail, which promised constant views and a challenging climb. As we climbed the wind began to pick up, and Luna became vocal about her distaste for the cool breeze. We made it a mile in before we turned around. It brought me no joy to make her stay bundled up in my shirt in her carrier while she harassed every hiker who passed, pleading for help in the 65F insufferable winds. Though I was disappointed we didn’t get to hike further, it still felt great to get out there and breathe the air. Concentrate. And step, step, step, step… Like a meditation.

Next time, Luna is staying at home, in her custom pajamas (yes I’m serious). Tomorrow I am going to leave to camp and hike somewhere around Arizona to celebrate Thanksgiving. I am looking forward to making my own thanksgiving meal and relaxing in the woods for a few days. I’m trying to slow down and lean into doing less. It has been feeling pretty good. In order to do a little more of that this holiday week, I will only be posting one blog post. I will return next Tuesday rested and refueled. Family- I will miss you all this Thanksgiving. Mom- don’t let the potatoes sit out too long after boiling.

I hope everyone enjoys their Thanksgiving, alone or with loved ones, and is able to take a minute to slow down.