Yeah, seriously. Trail 37, southwest of Payson, AZ. The "Hell's Gate" trail. And while this lizard certainly met his master on his way to Hell's Gate, we were more fortunate.
After recouperating from the Friday night massive campfire and Wild Turkey at the car camping spot, Cody and I packed up our bags and hit the trail around 11:00. A bit of rain was a welcome change to the AZ heat, and we worked our way up and down the foothills of the Arizona Transition Zone until we hit Hell's Gate. This is a nice canyon, deep enough in the wilderness that we didn't see anyone while we were there, and Trout and Bass in scores.
We met up with Nick down in the canyon, flied up our rods and hit the creek. Each pulling in a plethora of mini-fish, we decided to stick to the freeze-dried meals and let our finned-friends live another day. We'll be back when they're all grown up to feast.
Sunday, hiked out and hit up Alice's Restaurant. No, not the one from the song, and in my opinion not a particularly good one either. The heartburn and food poisening hit while I was driving home. Not a good combination, and it made for one of the most hideous / towickgnar drives in recent memory. It was all I could manage to do to write Adam the "I'm alive" text. That's probably my last trip to Alices Restaurant, at least the one in Young, AZ.
Taking a sick day now, so not all is bad.
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