The Goat Trail

If you’re wondering about the current state of my relationship …

When I asked Kelly what she thought her Spirit Animal might be, she answered (a little too quickly, if you ask me):

Praying Mantis

I suppose this shouldn’t really surprise anyone.

She does have a long history of trying to kill me.

Okay, maybe not “trying”, but still …

She would call me “dramatic” and I think she’s a bit too cavalier sometimes.

But I suppose she’s right, we haven’t died … yet. 🤠

For Kelly’s perspective on our hiking adventures you should definitely check out her newsletter Just Over That Next Hill

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The first time I lived in Arizona, Kelly and I were just friends. But for about 6 months in 2016, we hiked together three or four mornings a week.

One day she suggested that we head to Fort Huachuca to check out McClure Canyon, and maybe even try to get all the way up to Huachuca Peak.

Foreshadowing?

Note: back then I was in no shape to try to get to the top of any mountain. But that morning I was blissfully unaware of this potentially very relevant fact.

I was just going for another walk in the woods with my friend.

Just around the corner from that trailhead sign, we started to go UP

… and UP

… and UP.

My heart was beating so fast that I thought it was going to jump right out of my chest and dash back down the hill to the car.

At one point I may or may not have instructed Kelly:

If I have a heart attack and die, please call my girls in Texas and tell them how much their daddy loved them.

Yep, completely rational, not dramatic at all. 🤪

By some miracle I survived that first mile or two of the hike, and eventually the trail flattened out at least a little bit.

At this point I should probably tell you that Kelly had heard about an abandoned helipad at the very top of McClure Canyon, and she was determined to see it.

One problem …

As we got closer to the top, the “trail” quit looking anything like a trail.

But she could see the top. That helipad had to be there.

So on we pressed. Bushwhacking our way higher and higher.

Eventually I looked to my left and noticed that it was a good 200-300 foot drop off right next to the “trail”.

Oh, and did I mention that the “trail” just kept getting thinner and thinner, until at one point I asked if we were on a no shit mountain goat trail.

My fear that we might die maybe wasn’t quite so much “drama” this time.

It took another 5-10 minutes of inching forward a little at a time before Kelly finally agreed that maybe we weren’t going to see the helipad on that particular day … although she would get there about 6 and 1/2 years later.

The helipad at the top of McClure Canyon ~ Oct 2022

We weren’t quite done just yet …

Due to our precarious position on the side of a ridge, we had to literally slide on our butts back down to a place where it was safe enough to stand up.

Oh, and remember that super steep part of the trail at the beginning?

Yeah, we had to run down that hill because Kelly was going to be late picking her boys up from school.

Ten years later, if you ask her about that hike, it was all about the “great views” and we only turned around because we ran out of time.

Goat trails? What goat trails? You’re being dramatic.

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Til Next time,

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