Can a desert heal?
Yes, desert, with one S. Although I'm not disputing the power of a good gooey pudding on a cold winter night, to make me feel better, either. But I'm talking about the hot dry places, filled with spiky plants, and in the case of the Sonoran Desert in Arizona, Singletrack.
I came off the Nexplanon progesterone implant in spring last year, after 9 years. My body did not react with delight to the change, and I experienced fairly severe side effects. Constant bleeding, for weeks every month, anxiety, irritability and fatigue. I rode less that summer than I had done for years and avoided social situations. By the end of October, I was starting to feel vaguely normal, but months of feeling lumpy and out of sorts had taken a hit on my confidence and my relationships. I couldn’t face the thought of the oncoming winter and ending the year feeling a failure.
Whilst racing the Arizona trail 300 in 2019, id completely fallen in love with the desert. Complicated hills and ridgelines, towering Saguaro cactus, wildlife everywhere, and the wonderful logistics of carrying enough water to thrive in such a dry environment. I'd always wanted to return, and it seemed about as far away from a Scottish highland winter as I could get.
Arriving in flagstaff in the small hours to a winter storm, wind howling through the streets and sleet starting to fall as I dragged my bike box to a motel had me questioning my decisions. I collapsed in tears on the bed as the weather gusted under the door and pelted the window.
I planned to ride the Coconino loop in Northern Arizona, before picking up the 800-mile Arizona Trail south. The storm and following cold snap had me up by 5am every day, my tent caked in ice and riding before sunrise, so the muddy trails were frozen. Temperatures of –10C, way below what I was prepared for, my weak body, a bike loaded with all my gear and up to 5 litres of water as well as riding single speed, meant that first week was slow. I felt weak and unprepared. I cried every night.
But the trail delighted me with its variety, from high elevation double track beneath big ponderosa pines, to the red rock gorges and outstanding singletrack in Sedona. I rode one blissful afternoon in shorts and a t shirt through 40 miles of dusty desert before climbing up 1500m and shivering in every piece of clothing I brought. I saw big canine paw prints in the snow and watched sunrise from the trail every morning. I felt empty and sad, but at the same time every pedal stroke felt as though it was bringing me a little bit closer to who I had been.
Northern Arizona sits on the Mogollon Rim, at 2000m. As you drop south off the rim to lower elevation you start to hit the warmer climate of the Sonoran Desert. Finishing the coconino loop back in flagstaff cold and exhausted, I gratefully accepted a lift south.
Picket post mountain marks the end of the AZT 300 race. It was here that I finished in 2019, after 3 days of little sleep, covered in dust and ridiculously happy. It felt good to head south over those miles, remembering the strength of the past me who travelled the same curves and undulations, stared in awe at the same cliffs and canyons and remembered that I'm still that same person who loves adventures and is capable on her own. I stopped and camped in all the beautiful places that i rode by in 2019, watching sunsets and moon rises and pausing to photograph the interesting plants. As my body sweated and grew dust lines, the desert gave me the space to love and trust myself again, through turning pedals on sunny singletrack.
Words & Photos: Annie Le
