Six men and a mommy : the road to exhaustion...

It was 5.48 am and 54 degrees when we hit the trail. By then, I had been up for almost two hours and the sensible side of me (yes, I do have one!), was seriously second guessing this endeavour. After all, there are many other -better, easier, less painful- ways to spend a Saturday than trekking through the Phoenix Mountains Preserves for 11 hours along with five nearly strangers and one old friend.

It was a clear morning. The sky still dark. The moon, almost full was lightning our path as we started our way up our first mountain: Camelback. Behind me, an incredible dawn view of Scottsdale and Paradise Valley and ahead of me, my companions in single file. We reached our first summit in 45 minutes. Stopped. Smiled for the camera and moved on. The next stop, Piestewa Peak.

Our first stash point was at the far end of the Piestewa Peak parking lot, right next to the bathrooms. We arrived there approximately 2 and 1/2 hours into our trek. There we replenished our water and sport drinks supply, took layers of clothing off and lathered up with sunscreen. With no time to waste, we said goodbye to Mark and continued. From then on, it would be Jeremy, Arvid, Todd, Andrew, Jon and myself.

We reached Piestewa's crowded summit with fresh legs and lots of optimism. From there we took a connecting trail, heading west toward trail 100, via Dreamy Draw. Until then, we have all been talkative and jovial. We joked around a lot and made fun of each other. We discussed the purpose of hiking 5 mountains in one day and other than bragging rights, none was found!

Shortly past eleven we left Dreamy Draw, hiking along trail 100 toward our third summit at North Mountain. I had estimated about one hour from there until we would reach the parking lot at North Mountain where our second and last stash point was located. Somewhere along trail 100 hunger stroke and my previously bright disposition changed into one that could not stop craving nourishment.

Most people when running or hiking alone carry an MP3 player, I don't. I choose not to become distracted by music and instead let my mind wander. My days are usually filled with noise. Noise from domestic artifacts, toys, traffic, talking people, crying babies, music, the phone ringing, key strokes. As a result, when I am out in the trails I thoroughly enjoy the silence most trails provide. I like hearing my steps, my respiration, my own thoughts. In this particular trek of 25.5 miles , the extent of my thoughts ranged from optimistic cheers claiming I can do this to the everlasting, immutable and majestic God I serve. I become one with the desert and I surprise myself once more with just how much I like it.

The desert is the environment of revelation..., sensorily
austere, esthetically abstract..., its forms are bold and suggestive. Teh mind
is beset by light and space, the kinesthetic novelty of aridity...The desert sky
is encircling, majestic... infinitely vaster tan that of rolling countryside and
forest lands... In this unobstructed sky the clouds see more massive...
to the desert go prophets and hermits; through deserts go
pilgrims and exiles. Here the leaders of the great religions have sought
therapeutic and spiritual values of retreat, not to escape but to find reality
(Paul Shepard, Man in The Landscape).

Naturally not all my thoughts are deep, or organized, or even entertaining. At the point where hunger harassed me, my reflections turned into making sure I remained focused on my goal. I am unsure of the distance between Dreamy Draw and North Mountain, I guess about 6 miles. Somewhere along those 6 miles, I was finally able to see North Mountain ahead. As long as I kept my eyes on the objective, the goal ahead, I was fine. We reached the parking lot at North Mountain at 12.40 pm. No turkey and cheese sandwich has ever tasted so gratifying!

By now everything hurts. My legs, my knees, my left popliteal fassa, and gastrocnemius soleus complex, my plantar fascia. Yet, seven hours into our march we had completed over 16 miles and the target is now in sight. I can see our last three mountains. After a short break, we replenished our water and energy drinks supply, added electrolytes to our bodies, took Advil, changed our socks... we were ready to move. Another four hours would pass before we would reach our last apex.

I often ask myself what draws me to the mountains. Why is it that I find this type of challenges attractive; I never did in the past. However in the last 10 years I have learn to persevere, to finish what I start, to not quit. During the last fours hours of our expedition I spent a lot of time considering this and I kept playing back the words that my friend Melissa wrote after she summited Mont Blanc :

In many ways, life mirrors this climb. We have a goal. We hear others speak of
promises to be grasped. We keep our head up, eyes forward.And then for some
reason, this method does not work. We can't see the goal, can't recall the
promise. And our head goes down, eyes no longer focused on what is ahead. But we
don't give up. One foot in front of the other. Slowly, surely and quite often,
painfully. We know it is out there and so we press on. We must press on, for the
summit IS there. It has not moved. We will arrive and rejoice in the achievement.
Slowly, surely. One foot in front of the other (Melissa Dessaigne).

At around five in the afternoon we summited Look Out Mountain. From the top we could see all five crests. We had walked a long way. I could also see Mike's car waiting for me in the parking lot. I could not wait to get down and meet my welcoming gang!

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