“Returning home is the most difficult part of long-distance hiking; You have grown outside the puzzle and your piece no longer fits.”
– Cindy Ross
It was a short hike into Summerhaven, or Mt. Lemmon that morning. I had been without cell phone service for the last several days, and entering town brought a stream of notifications and a sharp jolt back to reality.
Everyone in the town seemed to be wearing a mask, the general store was closed, and there was tape on the sidewalk where lines might form carefully spaced at 6 ft apart.
It was a small community, so small that the woman who ran the post office would see a truck drive by, recognize it, and go running out with a package for the driver.
That was when I knew I needed to get off trail as soon as possible. These gateway communities were tiny, made up of older citizens, and I had no idea where the nearest medical facility was. They could not handle the virus. Suddenly I felt like I was putting these people in unnecessary danger.
Recent news on my phone told me that you could carry the virus even if you don’t show any symptoms, and the news reports from back home left a sick feeling in my stomach.
I decided to hike another 12 miles into Oracle, AZ – the town was slightly larger, and I hoped I would be able to get a ride to Tuscon from there.
I did not enjoy those 12 miles, I was worried about getting home and felt guilty about being on trail in the first place.
It took me two days, and one cancelled flight to get back to NY. I wore my buff as a mask, didn’t touch anything, and dealt with hunger because I was too scared to eat anything in the airport or on the plane.
I was overcome with relief when the plane landed in Albany.
As much as I miss the trail, I know it was the right decision to make.
I hope to return in the Fall and begin the hike Southbound, or whenever circumstances allow it.
In total, I hiked 200 miles. I am so grateful that I had the opportunity to experience as much of the trail as I did.
As I’ve told so many hikers before, the mountains will always be there. The gila monsters will still be crawling across the trail, and the views will make me feel just as small. I look forward to when I can return to Arizona, to experience all these things in a time when my presence there is not a threat to anyone.
I hope you’ve enjoyed my stories from the trail. Here are a few more pictures of cacti for good measure.
