March 13: Cienega Creek

Day 10: Spiritual Guides

I hope I don’t lose you with the spiritual stuff. Bear with me.

This morning Chris dropped me at mile 110 of the Arizona Trail: where it crosses Old Sonoita Highway. I’ve just taken two days off from hiking – to be with my family at the memorial service for my uncle Duane Miller.

Walking again is not hard. Yes there is a physical aspect to doing this that is brutal: hurt feet, tired legs, thirst, gotta hike 16 miles today, etc. But it’s not hard. I’m pulled forward most of the time. By thinking of the day ahead, of the next water stop, of the next adventure. I’m mostly pulled forward by people. Thinking of them: the lessons they have for me.

Sometimes the people play active parts in my day. They help me mark time. I spent 2 hours with my wife and kids this morning texting photos of where we were: Emma on a beach, Clay doing homework (with bad hair), Syd and Chinita at brunch in New York.

But mostly the people aren’t active in my day. They’re not talking to me. I’m solo. Spiritual. Thinking of them. What lesson do you have for me? What memory do I have of you? I spent 3 hours outside of Patagonia just thinking about my wife’s laugh. I spend hours thinking about Edward Abbey and his thoughts in Desert Solitaire (I’m re-reading it at camp at the end of each day). These people pull me forward.

Today it’s Ben Miller. My cousin. Youngest child and only son of Duane and Beverly Miller. He spoke at the service in Sedona. I can’t express better than Ben and his sisters did what Duane Miller was like. Google his name, Arizona and probably “cattlemen” and you’ll get a sense of the man. As Ben said, his passing (and that of his brother Cecil) marked the “end of an era”.

I can describe the impact Ben had on me yesterday. I’m so proud of him. He stood in front of 100 people and helped lead them thru their grief. He was so funny, so thoughtful, all while his own heart was breaking. His dad would have been proud of him.

Today I think of this as I hike thru the desert. I think of the family I saw in Sedona. My Uncle Henry made a point of telling me that he’s following my progress on InReach. I know he follows me because he cares, also a bit because his sister (my Mom) is so nervous about me, but I suspect it’s also because he would love to be out here. He’s got Arizona in his blood. My whole family out here does. The stories everyone told at the memorial service were about life, love and family, but each was set against a backdrop of Arizona places that most people never see: Camp Verde, Rogers Lake, Woody Mountain. There are spirits in those places.  
I walk through places like that today. I started at 9 and walked 5 miles through Sonoran desert to Cienega Creek. I’m resting and checking my water here. It’s beautiful and more striking because of the dryness of the desert that surrounds it. It should be in a Baumann print, or an oil by Ross Stefan. All I can do is take a photo and think. I have spent years in Arizona and never been here, but I’ll bet Uncle Henry has been here. I wonder when he was, what he would say about it.

After this I still have 10 miles of desert to hike this afternoon. It looks hot out there. The Rincons loom and I know I have to tackle them tomorrow.

My family pulls me forward.