{"id":13084,"date":"2020-10-20T04:45:22","date_gmt":"2020-10-20T11:45:22","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/mywalkabout.net\/?p=13084"},"modified":"2021-08-19T07:08:32","modified_gmt":"2021-08-19T14:08:32","slug":"exit-aravaipa","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/mywalkabout.net\/?p=13084","title":{"rendered":"Exit Aravaipa"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Dazed and confused<\/strong>. Lost. Scared. The rain starts to fall, lightly at first but I knew what would be coming. I take in a deep breath, then exhale slowly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Everything looks strangely new<\/strong>, as if I was going down a different path than what I had previously taken. The morning was filled with optimism and color, but now everything was starkly black and white. The river that felt cool to my skin earlier was now a treacherous torrent in which I kept slipping and falling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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The water rises with each step I take<\/strong>, becoming waist deep. The rain falls harder now, making it near impossible to see more than a few feet in front of me. I decide to leave the river and get on somewhat higher ground, giving me a greater chance of survival if a flash flood comes my way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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The tall brown grasses<\/strong> entangle my feet, increasing my anxiety as I get trapped underfoot. Easy prey for a number of predators that call this place home. Shivering, I start to run, but trip and fall. An intense pain shoots up my left flank and back, crippling me. I have no idea how far I’ve come, let alone how much further I need to go. The battery on my phone just died, and I feel I’m following suit. The rains fall even harder now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Prickly cacti and thorn bushes<\/strong> rip at my skin, leaving long gashes on my arms and legs. The blood mixes in with the rain and washes away into the black. I see a fence line and in the far distance a homestead on a large farm property. I realize that I have somehow overshot the exit to Aravaipa Canyon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Forced to trespass<\/strong>, I squeeze through the barbed wire fence, hoping that the property owners don’t come outside with a shotgun. I see no one though. I climb another fence, pass the homestead, and then find the dirt canyon road. I breathe a sigh of relief, then starting walking back up the canyon. After a couple of miles, I finally see the trailhead parking lot.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Knowing that I am finally safe<\/strong>, my body lets me know that it is hurting. Intense pain radiating from my left side, making mere walking and breathing almost impossible. I hobble to my truck, barely able to pull myself up into the driver’s seat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My casita is only down the road a spell, and I try to fein optimism that once I get food and drink all will be fine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n

I come to a bridge crossing and see a rockslide at the other end from the monsoon that fell upon the area. I try to move some of the rocks by hand, but my pain doesn’t agree. I slowly put the truck into four wheel drive and finally make it over the slide.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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