Tuesday, Apr 8 (5 days ago)
Bummer of an evening. Deb left for her home in Silver City, NM. I have a seriously bruised thigh, my truck's tailgate having fallen open smashing the corner into my leg; I've misplaced my clear lens glasses so am walking around in the dark wearing my sunglasses, I'm on dinner cleanup and there is not yet any water heated for washing dishes which means the dirty dishes will be piled mile high before I can begin washing; the prospect of washing dishes in the dark wearing my sunglasses, and the campsite snafu, Ed having changed the rendezvous time, the route disagreement, etc.
The rendezvous:
April 7th was a "Marcher in the Home" night. Locals organize a group of volunteers to take one or more marchers home for the night. They have agreed to take somebody home, provide them opportunity for a shower, feed them dinner, provide a place to sleep, a bite of breakfast, and bring them back to rendezvous with the group at 8:30 AM the next morning. On the evening of the 7th, Ed, with little or no consultation with the group, decided that these families should bring their guest marchers back downtown Phoenix at 06:30, two hours earlier than their original contract. Of course not all got the word, so we have marchers scattered over two hours of downtown Phoenix. I'm irritated that he should make such a decision without the consensus of the group, for the benefit of who? or what? This sort of thing is NOT his call, and he seriously impacted the generous host families.
The route:
Our state coordinator and her husband (a marcher) proposed a route from Margaret Hance Park in downtown Phoenix out to the Pima Reservation east of Scottsdale via VanBuren Street, through a run down, dilapidated strip of meth hotels, so that we could march through a bit of Papago Park to get back to McDowell Rd. Sarah, our Logistics Coordinator suggested we simply take McDowell Rd. (closer to our beginning at Margaret Hance Park and leading directly to our destination). Brandon, the Arizona State Coordinator's husband threw a fit and insisted on his VanBuren route, thinking it very important to walk a mile through Papago Park. Sarah compromised with a McDowell route for 5 miles, down to VanBuren and back to McDowell through the Park. Brandon took this to be a personal affront to him and his wife, and continued to make a huge fuss about it. In the end, the detour to VanBuren was a total waste of time and mileage. Straight down McDowell would have been the smarter route for several reasons (visibility being one). Lots of hurt feelings about this.
The no campsite SNAFU
So, we walked out East McDowell Rd. to 92nd St. as prescribed by our Arizona State Coordinator and parked our fleet on an ugly patch of bulldozed desert with no shade or services. Before all the marchers had even joined us we were visited by the Tribal Police and told we were trespassing and would have to move immediately. After a few moments of pleading, the impolite, aggressive, Marine-like skinhead cops decided to allow us 30-40 minutes to vacate before they would arrest us all and impound our vehicles. They called their supervisor, a lieutenant, who quickly arrived. At the same moment Brandon managed to get the Tribal President, or her representative on the phone, who asked to talk with the Lieutenant. The lieutenant showed us why he is a lieutenant and not the skinhead Marine. He said to his superior, something akin to "We've got to find somewhere for these people to spend the night." After a short negotiation, the Tribe invited us to stay at the soccer field a few blocks away. Two top Tribal officials showed up to welcome us, and offer us use of showers at the school adjacent to the soccer field.
Erica, the Arizona State Coordinator, apologized for the misunderstanding. She had failed to realize that there are two adjacent reservations and multiple tribes and she had negotiated a site with the McDowell Tribe which she had thought covered two sites on two different nights.
Wednesday, Apr 9 (4 days ago)
Settled in the shade of a verdant mesquite a few hundred metres from the Verde River, at the Ft. McDowell Res. rodeo grounds, having polished off a couple of Negra Modelos and thrown my Thermarest & sleeping bag on the carpeted floor of the press box adjacent to Kathe. After dinner we'll clink our cups of wine in memory of our departed friend Deb, and celebrate our upcoming reunion with her in northern Arizona or New Mexico.
Good day today, in high 80s w/ nice breeze and slight overcast. Not being ready to walk on my bruised thigh, I chose to drive my newly re-tired truck all 15.5 mi. Unhooked the commode trailer & headed back to Fountain Hills w/ Steve & Lala for essential supplies: beer, wine, ice, chips, salsa, yogurt & sundry items.
Marie cooks, the new doc (Bruce) looks at Miriam's feet, Steve naps, Branden counsels Liz, Luke & NewMary read, Michael wanders around the sun-drenched lot talking to somebody on his phone in Spanish, Ken rakes a tent site, while Lala prepares an agenda on the easel for tonight's meeting and I peck out an inadequate expression of my love for a woman with whom I have shared recent history.
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Friday, Apr 11 (2 days ago)
Moved the commode trailer to the first break point as soon as the first marchers hit the road, then drove back to a café in Fountain Hills. Joined Jimmy, Kathe & Rosa sipping a mocha and typing for the first time in too many days on a full size keyboard. The conversation is top quality; Rosa is excellent, skilled in Dynamic Facilitation and other skills, and I think will be key in bringing some resolution to our leadership crisis.
Soon headed back north to move the commode trailer from 1st break to lunch stop. Later I will move it to tonight's camp, where we will be trespassing on gawd only knows whose property. It's not clear why we didn't have a pre-arranged site for us to camp tonight, but Ed, Sarah and I scouted the route yesterday and didn't find a decent place for us to camp. We picked a sadly deficient site along side a frontage road leading to a number of millionaire estates, where we would park the trucks on highway right-of-way, and camp along side a dry creek bed across a fence.
I will then leave the commode trailer and head back to Phoenix in my truck, to Jim & Kathy's to pick up my package from the Camp Chef stove people. I hope to stay another night there, so I'm not present if/when the sheriff shows up to throw us out of camp.
I'll also stop at REI in hopes of purchasing a tiny backpack like the one I asked Juliet to send. I've talked w/ Kathe about the possibility of taking a short break (3 days - 1 week) in the near future, and heading down to Silver City for a few days. No conclusion. No plan. yet.
Kelsey and Michael went off-route to hike in the stunning chaparral hills. A boulder rolled under Kelsey's feet, she fell, the boulder smashed and skinned up her leg. Her pants were torn, and she suffered various abrasions. I was ready to pack up the break truck and head for the lunch spot when she came limping in w/ Michael. She insisted on continuing to walk after a brief break, against advice of Michael and me. However, after getting the trailer turned around and driving out to the highway shoulder, Michael, 100 metres up the road, waved me down with our crossed arms code for "stop I need help." I called him and he said they were on the way back to the truck. Michael then continued to walk and Kelsey accepted a ride in the truck.
A few minutes later we were at a shady, cold pool on Sycamore Creek with Doc Bruce administering aid. She stripped and sat in the cold water. She rode the remainder of the day, and today is walking with a bicycle as a crutch, her thigh wrapped in an Ace bandage.
Then I discover that because I listed the turn to our dreadful campsite as being at MP216 when it was actually following MP218, the lead marchers took a wrong turn and ended up at a far better site on Forest Service land. Some mistakes are meant to happen. After arriving at our new campsite, I unhitched the commode trailer and headed back to Scottsdale.
Reunion dinner at April's
Went directly to REI, purchased a small backpack, and headed for my niece April's house in Mesa, where I had dinner with my sister & her husband, her daughter and her husband and three daughters, and my sister-in-law Penny. A spontaneous family reunion. What a hoot!
Then back to Margaret's, margaritas and a long conversation w/ Penny. Concluded that driving over to Jim & Kathy's in Phoenix wasn't practical after the first margarita, so settled down in Margaret's living room for a comfortable night's sleep, knowing the house will explode in kid energy way too early in the morning. Penny & I concluded a wonderful reunion and love fest in memory of our favorite deceased human. She is definitely ready to leave her high status w/ Motorola to embrace the next phase of her life. Nice connection w/ sister Margaret, as well as her only remaining "local" daughter April. I will run over to Jim & Kathy's, or meet them early for coffee, in the morning, but won't likely make it back to camp before the early marchers depart. I'm so happy that the march has allowed the connections between me & my friends & family, and between Deb and Jim & Kathy
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Saturday, Apr 12 (1 day ago)
Breakfast w/ Jim & Kathy in Phoenix, my Camp Chef package, fuel, Home Depot, back to Margaret's for water, and off toward Payson before noon.
Missed the entire march. Caught up with marchers at tonight's camp, somewhere about 8 miles south of Rye. Decent campsite. 2-hour discussion of little or no value (to me), and then after dinner, while I was washing dishes, two boring stories by a "professional storyteller." Quite a cold night!
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Sunday, Apr 13 (today)
Walked 8 miles to Rye. Marchers shuttled to Payson in various vehicles. Those who want to walk that stretch, will be shuttled back to Rye in the morning. The rest of us will hang out in Payson. Payson is a very changed place since I was last here in the late 1960s or early 1970s. Very sad to see a Walmart. Very nice coffee shop and café in the Dimi Espresso
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