This trip was planned months ago, and we had missed getting permits for the original weekend. This date was our backup, but it turned out to be better now, when the Arizona summer has transitioned to more fall-like.
My backpacking buddy Brad, his dad Val, and sons Grant and Max are on this trip. I’m like the designated photographer.
The parking lot and trailhead is very exposed, with the sun blasting down at us. But soon, we descend under the canopy of cottonwoods and onto the watery trail. It’s in and out of the water, taking a break along the banks, or simply feeling our way over rounded pebbles on the bottom of the stream. Butterflies and dragonflies dart about.
Progress is slow, and at about two-thirds of the way to our destination, Brad and I decide to speed-hike to camp. We see a family with their campfire and a few other campers. Brad and I look at each other, trying to figure out the next step. Do I set camp, or do we just go back and rejoin the rest of the group?
Nightfall approaches, and we speed back. We find that they made only a little progress, and by this time, it’s about dark. We quickly make camp, start a fire, and prepare dinner. The site is on a small sandbar, not ideal, but cozy.
The stars emerge, and we take in the serene setting, quiet except for the rushing water next to our site.
Brad makes oatmeal for breakfast, and both Grant and Max decide to go hungry than to eat it. They’d rather have eggs and sausage.
Backtracking seems easy, except when Max marches ahead and manages to miss the turnoff to the parking lot. We arrive at the car to find him missing. Brad heads back down the trail, and soon, they both emerge, Max wiped out from bushwhacking to find his way out.
I’ll remember this timeless place, a place to bring my kids, to one day hike to our destination.
