“That’s another hundred!” Bridget stops instantly, whirls around and stares me down. Her eyes half closed with sleep, she can barely stand strait. “You have to keep track of HOW MANY meters. I can’t track that also. That’s your job!” We’re both half asleep, but Bridget has been doing all the navigating since we started 16 hours ago. She took a 20 minute nap at the last control, but it didn’t help much. Struggling to stay awake, she can’t think clearly. I’m not as sleepy, but I’m not navigating. “Ok”, I nod.

Bridget drives us out of Austin at 8am on Friday right after she drops off her kids with the sitter. Joyce rides up front with her. The travel van is loaded and the shell on top is full, but we have plenty of room inside. I spend hours working on my Camelback, packing it with gear, food, and water. I reload it over and over again until it fits some odd logic and I tire of it. Frequently used things on top and in front, least used items on the bottom and back. Emphasis is on weight, water, and fuel. Next, I select clothes for all possibility of weather.

One thousand miles and sixteen hours later, between Show Low and Heber, we’re enveloped in a driving snow storm. The view out the windshield is surreal. The optical illusion presented is of us sitting still and the snow flying past us. I slow to 35mph and intermittently glance down at the road in the near front just to repair my perspective. We arrive just after midnight local time, stealing two hours back from a crossed time zone and Arizona’s ignorance of daylight savings time. The Mogollon Rim cuts across the NE corner of Arizona, splitting the high desert with a 7000 foot range of Ponderosa Pines and elk herds. A very large desert oasis. Mike flew into Phoenix and rode up with friends. We meet him in camp and fifteen minutes later, we’re all asleep in the van.

We’re here for the Rogaine: Australian style orienteering. Bridget’s been doing these for years while I know next to nothing about it. I expressed an interest and she needed a partner. My wish is to avoid slowing her down while I acquire an education. Hopefully, my endurance will overshadow my ignorance. I’m up at sunrise and outside quickly, getting reacquainted with these old Ponderosa Pines. It’s been 15 years since I was here last. I love the feel of it. Crisp clean air and the deep pine forest initiates a sensory revival. Smells are sharp, colors are deep, hearing is clear. Feels great!

Joyce & I prepare all four Camelbacks while Mike & Bridget go for the topos. The map has 52 control points spread evenly across it, from #20 to #87. The first number times 10 indicates the worth while the second number helps identify it. Mike & Bridget make themselves comfortable and plan out our routes independent of each other. They study the contours, trying to determine the best route for maximum points with minimum effort. Sometimes the best route is direct, others are circuitous, following a contour, a creek, or a road. Each has it advantages and disadvantages. It’s hard to determine which is best until you’re there.

My gear is ready, so I load Bridget’s while Joyce works on her own. Then we both load Mike’s together. 100oz bladders fill each pack and we plan to reload on course. We’re told we can get water at the water tower near #81. We plan to stay out for 10 hours minimum, coming back well after dark for supplies, water, warm clothes, and a bit of sleep. Finding water is important to this plan. Mike & Joyce plan to stay out for 8 hours and should be able to do this on one bladder each. They’re going for the left side, while we’re starting bottom right before working around to the left side from the bottom. Our night run will hit the top right, working across the top and swinging round back to the camp. We need to finish by 6am, even though the event isn’t over ‘til 10am. We have to get on the road and back to Austin as quickly as possible. Calculating the 17 hour drive plus 2 hours lost to the time zone vacuum will put us home shortly after midnight.

The briefing starts at 9:45 but I can’t hear a thing, so I walk back to the van for my elastic belt-pack. I can use it to put the punch card in. Bridget gave me the event card, which I have to punch with the coded punch attached to each control. The van’s locked and I can’t get in, so I blow it off and head back. I’ll have to carry the thing in my hand. The Rogaine begins just as I return. Bridget takes a compass reading and we walk into the trees. We follow a dry creek while Bridget educates me on measuring my stride. Trying to get calibrated, and not quite in the flow yet, we flounder about a bit before finding our first control. It’s my job to manage the punch card, so I run up to punch it, but I don’t know which control number it is. I ask Bridget and punch the square for #31. There’s a marker card hanging from a tree next to it along with a pencil. It has columns for team name, next destination, and time. I ask where we’re going next and what team are we. Fortunately, I have a watch and spare her one more question.

She’s already plotted our next destination and we start again to measure my stride. I think it’s 100 steps per 100 meters. She suggests I count every other step, so I half it. We find #56 in a notch just off a peak and I ask all the same questions again. Bridget plots quickly and begins moving ahead. I catch up to her before working on my stride count. I think I have it now and take over counting distances, giving increments by the hundreds. It’s easier to do along the road we’re on for this section. We both count to calibrate to one another and I’m certain now that I have it. We run the road for a couple hundred meters before sliding off down to a creek and then follow the creek up to the next control. We find #64 and I’m asking the same questions again, when I notice the team number on our card. It’s not the same number Bridget told me. I wrote the wrong number on the first two cards. Anyway, one less question I have to ask. I pull out the spare map and fold it out so that I can see where we’re going from now on. It’ll cut the questions down to none. My repetitive questions are starting to bother her. I ask more than once a few times as I want to make sure I write down the right info. All I have to ask now is “what’s next”.

Most of the orienteers must have started on the left side. Some of the control cards are blank. We find a road, ride it for a few hundred meters, then off to a creek, and follow it direct to #65, at the junction of 2 creeks. Now that I’ve figured my stride, we’re running a bit more. I’m learning the terrain also and Bridget’s occasionally asking for my opinion. My head’s abuzz with stride count, control numbers, terrain, and direction. Not much chit chat going on as our heads are already full. The country’s fairly clear of undergrowth and we can take a strait line most of the time. There’s nothing steep or challenging either as we can pretty much go any direction we please. We cut a strait line azimuth to #46 and hit it pretty close. The land rolls a bit and is easy to deal with.

We follow another road directly to the Sterner Tank corral. Bridget calls it a collector. A landmark you collect and confirm your location. Control #54 is behind it. We punch in and head out the backside to #53. We follow a road, but keep going strait as it splits to either side of us. We pass Ford Tank and follow Baldwin Draw as it opens up before us. Descending quickly, I find the control hidden under a ledge on the left side of a dry creek. Reversing direction, we back out the same way we came in, back to the road split. We take an azimuth reading direct to #47 just inside a finger of the next canyon. We drop down and follow a creek into a wide bottom canyon, navigating past all the dead ends of Wilford Canyon to a very wide area of the bottom. We find a road and follow it around and into a deep draw to #48. We debate either going over the ridge or following the bottom around to #63 and elect to follow the easier course in the bottom. The road should take us within a 100 meters of it. It’s past noon, and the day is warming up. Sweat pours from us as we shuffle up the road through Black Canyon. We pass a couple sitting down at the entrance to the side canyon we take. It’s the closest we’ve been to anybody today. We run up the road, counting meters until Bridget stops and points. “In there”, she says, and turns off road. 200 meters off road, we find it, collect our punch, and reverse direction back to the road. Some kids on ATVs speed by as we go left off road and head for a saddle in the hills. We climb up, crawl under a barb-wire fence, and drop into the next bottom. We step across a clear trickling creek, round a fence line, and follow the contour of the rise on the far side. Looks like #75 should be at the top, so we find a good place to start our climb. It’s perched as we guessed near the summit. I punch in and descend. Back round the same spire, we hug the west bank fenceline clear through the bottom and into the trees at the end of it. We pass two shallow draws before turning into the deeper 3rd one. Hugging the right side, we find #83 at the far back side, near the bottom of a good rise. Time for a break. We sit down and relax. I drink a can of Ensure and eat part of a hamburger. It’s the first real break we’ve taken so far and I realize how tired I am. Sure could use an ice cold glass of lemonade and a hammock right about now. It’s real nice here under the trees. A gentle breeze is blowing. Very peaceful!

We rest for 10 minutes and it’s not enough. We climb strait up the wall behind us, and I can feel the food in my stomach. I need to go slow and allow it to digest. Sweat pours from me as I struggle up the steep slope. Our route is anything but direct: to the road on top, right on the road, drop into the next draw, and follow the bottom round to #76. My energy evaporates on the long climb. I feel it slipping away. I must have waited too long to eat. It’ll take some time for me to get it back. Nothing I can do but slog it out. We find the road and then the draw. It’s steep and filled with brambles, boulders, and fall-downs. The topo didn’t have all this crap on it. Should have a big black X right here! Maybe it’s me. The smallest climb feels like a mountain right now. We climb log after log, over, under, and around. Bridget gave me some pants specifically for orienteering, which I’ve had on all day, but don’t appreciate until right now. The briars tug on them and slide across but can’t penetrate. Finally, we slip into the bottom and take the first draw. 200 meters in, we know it’s wrong, and retreat. We find the correct one soon after, follow the road up and cross a creek. We find #76 easily, but the climb up and over is slow and tough. We cut a tangent to #82, but this one’s a challenge. We drop down into a deep cut and look strait up the other side. It’s steep and covered with large boulders. Climbing slowly on all fours, Bridget trips and smashes the compass into a rock. It appears to be broke, but does survive, so we continue.

We reach the table on top and begin to make our way. Crossing a jeep road, things don’t click. The terrain is wrong. We’re off course. The setting was turned when we thought the compass was broke. We study the map and the land shape, but we’re on a table in a thick growth of trees and it’s not easy to make out exactly where we are. We flounder about for a few minutes, then decide to drop down under it, into the creek where we can get a better look at where we are. Saloon Canyon is steep, but we drop in and find the lay easy to read, and climb back up and find #82 easily. I’m still tired and so is Bridget so we stop and take another break.

Some old friends of Bridget’s climb up out of the trees and walk right to us. They stop to visit for a few minutes and then move on. We drop back down and up the other side, passing another couple going exactly opposite to us. Down into long steep Shelly Draw, we begin to see lots of couples going the way we came. Then we spot Joyce & Mike, above us on a ledge. We climb up and visit for a few minutes. It’s about 4pm, so we’ve been going for 6 hours. They only have 2 hours before they’re done and should be working their way back real soon. We part ways and continue down the draw. Looks like the first inlet, but there are so many and few of them even make a blip on our topo. We search two wrong ones before finding the correct one. We cut azimuth east and make for #55. Up out of Shelly Draw, we fall off a steep wall back into Black Canyon and move strait across the bottom. Into the draw directly opposite, we collect control #55. We’ve done well so far, but we’ll slow down drastically soon as it gets dark.

Both of us are nearly out of water, but we should be able to refill soon at the water tower. We continue up the draw, scrambling through thick undergrowth and crossing side branches of deep draws. Once on the road, we follow it north to the water tower, but there isn’t one. Should be a tower and water right here. We do find a large concrete pad and a metal trough filled with rancid water. This will change our plans! Our only choice is to head strait back, and we can pick up any controls on the way. We’re close to #81, but it’s the wrong way, so we skip it. Our plan to cover this whole quadrant before going back is nixed. We’re missing lots of big points and regret this option, but agree it’s best. Most of the controls have been in draws, but #62 sits in a depression, and we aim for it on our route back.

Bridget may be getting dehydrated. I think she’s holding back on her water because we’re low. I’ve been walking to her left for awhile without really thinking much about it. Suppose I wanted to stay off her heels and I can see much more if I’m not directly behind her. She calls me over and tells me to stay with her. “You’re leading me off on a tangent”, she says. “And don’t walk directly in front of me. I need to see where I’m going.” Well, I can understand that, but now I’m right where I was trying to avoid, on her heels. I’ve since recovered from my bonk, but now it’s Bridget’s turn. We need to get more water soon. We miss the depression on the left, but recover and make our way back over to it. We break again for a few minutes when we find it.

We backtrack to the road, turn south, and start counting. 1500 meters later, we realize the road isn’t true to the map. We stop, think about it, and decide to cut down into Baldwin Draw. We land in the bottom and work our way up a road. A young couple are cutting wood for the night at their camp where the road ends. We pass by, slip under a barb-wire fence, and climb a hill directly to #52. Back down the draw past the same camp, we cut across a saddle looking for #40. We land all wrong, confused by the clearings, the shape of the hills, and the coming darkness. We canvas three or four separate hills for an hour before we finally figure it out and locate the control. Our worst job so far, killing way too much time and energy. Time to get back. It turns dark on us while we search for #40, but the moon is full and bright. We don’t need our lights until we get near the next control, so we leave them off. We feel we can see the land much better with diffused moon light than a bright beam that darkens everything outside it’s edge. We find #21 easily, then the road, and camp. It’s past 9pm. We’ve been out for 11 hours, and light on water for over 3.

We turn in our card and walk a quarter-mile to the van. Mike and Joyce stir into action and quickly buzz about us, taking care of our every need. I can’t keep up with it all as I’ve spun down and can’t think as fast as I should. Joyce swaps my Camelback for Mike’s larger one so I’ll have room to carry more clothes, food, water, flash, and batteries. I change into long pants, long sleeve shirt, fresh socks, and the same old Montrail Vitesse I always wear. Trading my ball cap for a skull cap and headlamp, I sit down to eat while I guzzle a jug of Gatorade. Bridget’s in her own maelstrom while I’m in mine, each of us taking care of our own. I realize while we pick up our card and walk back into the darkness together that the only thing we forgot was sleep. Everything happened so fast, I don’t think we actually had a minute to relax.

The full moon is bright and continues to light our way, so we keep our lights off. Just outside camp at the confluence of three creeks is #20. We’re there, but can’t seem to find the control. We comb the area for minutes before we find it nestled into the side of a tree. In the daylight, I’m certain it would be easy to see. In the darkness, we had to be at just the right angle to see it. Not a good start. “Is this how all of them are going to be in the dark?”, I ask. “No, they are all going to be different! You just don’t know!”

Bridget shoots an azimuth for #32. We cross a dry creek and find what she calls a handrail, a wall that’s easy to recognize and follow. This leads into a pocket, but we can’t seem to locate the control. We bounce back out and then back in again. This has to be it. We go in deeper and deeper and then find it, but it doesn’t seem to fit the topo. It’s probably us again, not thinking rationally.

We target #41 next and shoot azimuth strait for it. We climb up and out, then drop into a short steep ravine, and then up the other side. On top, we cross road and then come up on a deep cut on our left. It’s not making much sense, so we stop and follow it. It’s not far enough, but Bridget thinks this may be it. We follow along for a ways, then drop down into it. We hit bottom and follow the creek in. It’s not fitting the profile at all, but we decide to follow it down to collect a landmark and make sure we know where we are. We find the creek, collect our landmark, and turn around, knowing exactly where we are. Back up a series of creek cuts, we climb back where we fell off course earlier. On top, we cross a table and drop down to where the control is.

Bridget decides to skip #66 and go for #59 instead. “We don’t have time to hit ‘em all, so lets focus on the sure things in this general direction.” Makes sense to me, so off we move towards #59. Through the trees and under the moon we dance through the forest, following a compass and an occasional jeep road. We’re still sweating heavily on each climb but cool quickly when we stop. It’s getting cooler as we pass midnight.

We make our way back up on top, find the road, and comfortable ride it to a split. Off road, we go strait between the two choices and follow the compass as the land falls away into a deep draw. We take it on down slowly, considering a few false leads, but staying true right down to the control, sitting dead center of the draw. Punched in, we make a left out a side branch, and back up on top again. We find the road quickly, turn right, and ease on down the road. We intersect another road where we make a right and then a left. This road climbs quickly and we slow significantly due to the slope. It fades to nothing at the summit, where Bridget shoots an azimuth from the summit to #67. We pick up speed heading downhill in the dark with our lights off when we suddenly come up short against a barb wire fence. This could have been ugly, but we manage to pull up and avoid injury. We slide under and continue down into a shallow draw, moving easily until we run smack into #67.

Bridget pulls up and sits down, hanging her head. I sit down also, thinking it’s a good time for a break. “I gotta sleep”, she says! “20 minutes. I’ll set my timer.” I didn’t realize how tired she was. Right there within five feet of the control, she lays down in shallow rut and goes to sleep. I can’t sleep! I’m not wide awake, but I’m not able to sleep either. I remove my shoes and clean them out, adjust my socks, and put ‘em back on. I remove my medical kit, Vaseline the boys, just because I usually need to, and why not now. I’ve got my pants around my ankles, jewels airing in the breeze, when a couple comes out of the trees. We exchange greetings as they carefully step around Bridget to punch in. They plot their next destination and escape quickly. I’m indifferent to the insanity of it. Brain dead and too tired to care. I sit down to eat and then Bridget’s alarm goes off. Takes her seconds to sit up, take a reading, and head out. We’re going in the same direction as they couple who just left. Control #73 is on a creek, not far south of a creek split. We cross a road, and then a shallow creek. Not certain this is it, we keep going to the next shallow creek. We follow this one up to find the split, a few hundred meters, then back. It doesn’t fit. We retrace to where we got off and then continue to the next creek. This one is obviously the right one, deep and wide, but we don’t know where we are on it. Which direction do we go? We head north on it for a few hundred meters but it’s wrong, so we turn around and go back the other way. It fits the pattern and eventually we find #73 inside the creek.

It’s taking us way too long and we’re both getting punchy. Bridget’s drifting a bit and struggling. We’d already decided to be back by 6am so we could get on the road and back to Austin. We have a 16 hour drive and two lost time zones to deal with and we had to consider this while we planned this route. It’s about 4am now, but we’re a good ways out and taking a long time to go a short way. I suggest we give it up. We’re just stumbling about and it’s not going to get any easier until the sun rises. That’s when we need to be back anyway. She agrees and plots a course for the road south of us. We can use it to get us back. Wish it was that simple! The creek spreads it’s tentacles and pushes us further and further east as we move south. I’m counting meters but keep losing track. Bridget gets upset and tells me I have to keep track. I agree with her but my mind wanders. I don't actually fall asleep, as my eyes stay open and I can see where I’m going, but it’s more autopilot than conscious control. I avoid ditches, step over logs, hop creeks, but I forget numbers, forget to count, forget what I’m doing. Seems like hours later of endless walking that we find the road. We’re close to #68, but don’t know where we are. The death march continues on the road for a few thousand meters. It spins off to the north and Bridget thinks this is correct, so we take it. 1500 meters later, it begins to fade and wanders in the wrong direction. We know it’s the wrong road and turn back. On the original road, we continue for what feels like a long time. We reach a barb wire fence stretched across the road, so we lift it and roll under and keep on dragging. We come to an intersection of five roads, sans directional scarecrow. Without a clue, we stop in the middle and sit down. Bridget studies this, while I go off to visit the bears. Returning minutes later, I find Bridget asleep in the middle of the road with her face on the map. “That way”, she says as I wake her up.

We limp down the road in a northerly direction, our goal: Buckskin Wash. The road bends left, lifting Bridget’s spirits. With so few brain cells working between the pair of us, not many of our decisions have panned out recently. 1500 meters later, some lights appear ahead on the road, but they disappear into the trees as we approach. It’s an intersection with a completely worthless road sign. Our topo has no road names on it, but the intersection fits our topo. We know for certain exactly where we are. We’ve been in limbo for awhile and it feels good to be back. Bridget reclaims her lively attitude and suggests we go after control #45, which is only 400 meters off the road. “I think we deserve to get it”, she says. “It’ll repair our confidence a bit.” I agree and off we go. We head strait in and directly to it. We also find the two guys with the lights we saw on the road. Bridget knows them and we visit for a few minutes before returning back to the road.

On the northbound road through Buckskin Wash, we detour for another control. “44 is 400 meters that way”, she points. “What do ya think?” “I say we go collect it.” We climb a ridge, cross a road, drop down the other side, and nail the control dead on. Bridget’s got it going again, like she was when we started. But, for better or worse, we’re done. The sky grows lighter as we near camp. We use the road to roll off the ridge and back into the wash again. With her eyes closed, Bridget drifts from side to side, into the rough on her left and into me on her right. Opening her eyes long enough to correct herself and gone again. Feeling like the designated driver, I’m not exactly wide awake.

We begin to see a few folks in the trees, moving quickly, possible just waking up and renewing their hunt for points. We leave the road and cross two more humps, cutting a tangent back to the main road into camp. Slowly, we drift back in and through camp. Just one more control before we bag it and escape. It’s just across the creek from where we parked. We wake Mike & Joyce and continue past them, cross the creek, and climb to the hill top. We drift south to the next rise and find it, our last control. I punch in and turn back, relieved to be done. Mike & Joyce are buzzing about when we return. We leave our gear with them and walk back to the hash house to turn in our card.

I stop first at the portolet to freshen up and then back to the van. Takes 30 minutes to get cleaned up, changed, and packed, before we roll out. I wake up as we roll into Silver City, New Mexico for breakfast. Mike’s roasted red from the Arizona sun and the rest of us are still punchy from the long drive, long event, and return trip. I had a load of fun and enjoyed the entire experience. We all laugh together at each other and our odd peccadilloes. We have to try this again, but with more sleep under our belts.

joe prusaitis