On the Way to Pine Mountain: Arizona Trail Day 10

A marker on the trail from elk or cow bones

Day 10: Part of Segment 28 “Happy Jack”: Sept 8

Our cabin neighbor shuttled us to our hike on the AZT today. We left our vehicle at the hike’s ending and jumped in his 4WD vehicle for a teeth-jarring drive on FSR 93 for our drop-off point near Gonzales Tank, northwest of Turkey Mountain. We had firmed up the shuttle details the night before at a potluck dinner at our cabin. Seventeen neighbors, ages 4 to 85, sat around a collection of room-for-one-more tables on our back deck for an end-of-season gathering.

We provided wild mushroom risotto (see day 9 on the AZT) and elderflower limeade from flowers we had picked on bushes that morning. It was a 70-degree evening. No bugs. Good food. Lively conversation. But also, the difficult news of multiple diagnoses involving neighbors in the circle.

Who would and who would not be joining us around the table next summer?

I carried the thought as we said goodbye to our friend and headed out for an 8.57-mile hike to our ending destination on the other side of Pine Mountain. We traversed grass-lined trails, bordered by cedar and juniper trees, with the normal suspects of wildflowers. We hiked for 1 ½ hours before reaching Wild Horse Tank. A herd of black cattle waded into the murky waters, while keeping nervous eyes on us.

Pine Mountain in the distance

Wild Horse Tank in the foreground. Pine Mountain in the background. A few of the herd.

I tended two blisters before we returned to the trail, finally under the shaded canopy of ponderosa pines. We found bits of wonder, from the tiny blooms of sawtooth sage to a wild turkey tail feather in the dirt.

Despite all that, the hike felt like a slog. I could NOT find my rhythm. My body felt sluggish. Spent.

It was only after we got home that I realizedI had carried conversations from the previous evening—the weight of hard news from neighbors who I care about. My body was telling me the truth before my mind was able to catch up to what my body already realized.

As someone who ran sprint triathlons in my 30s and 40s, I embraced the No pain, no gain, Fake it ‘til you make it, Pain is the body’s way of getting rid of weakness mindset. Unfortunately, that mindset went beyond exercise to how I viewed mental health and even faith.

The mantras no longer serve me as a woman in my sixties. If they ever did.

I am slowly relearning a different landscape, one where our bodies have insights to share, even when we try to ignore them or attempt to compartmentalize hard conversations.

I hold these words from Sarah Bessey, part of a Sept 1 email entitled, “A Blessing for Unlikely Spiritual Practices.”

May you stop confusing exhaustion and productivity with faithfulness. May you remember that your body is not an inconvenience to spirituality but, as Barbara Brown Taylor reminds us, your “soul’s address.” May you be blessed by your limits and your needs, these sacred reminders that you are human….I bless you with wonder and delight, not because the world is suddenly safe and simple - if only! - but because this is another way we refuse to let despair have the final word. May you be a defiant noticer of beautiful things.

Juniper berries.

Today, I extend grace to my tired body.

Today, I am sad for my neighbors.

Today, I hate cancer a little more. And mind-robbing dementia.

Today I hold the treasure of God in an earthly vessel.

Today I believe in life beyond this life.

Today, I am a defiant noticer of beautiful things…

…around a turkey feather, by way of Wild Horse Tank, in the shade of a juniper tree, over Pine Mountain…

…with dusty feet.

Hiking Stats: Part of Section 28, “Happy Jack” Section.

Day 10: September 8, 2026

7:09 – 10:46 am, 19,000 steps, 8:57 miles

52 – 76 degrees

NOBO. 7 miles E on FSR 93 to 5 miles E on FSR 294 off Lake Mary Road.