Singletrack/MTB
Gravel/All-road
Dirt-road Touring
Fat-bike
Day 1 of the 2025 Arizona Trail Race: Dawn till Dusk
As riders of the 2025 Arizona Trail Race begin to find their rhythm, Chris Reichel provides a thorough recap of the first day of the event after following for the first 70 miles. Find his day one report and a gallery of photos he captured here…
PUBLISHED Oct 18, 2025
The southern terminus of the Arizona Trail (AZT) is only about 30 miles from my house, and for the past few years, I’ve been zipping over the hill to photograph the first day of the race. I was extra excited for this year. The ride would start an hour earlier with the start line a few miles north due to the current geopolitical climate of the region. Plus, Mother Nature has hammered Arizona for the past six months in a way that I haven’t seen in my twenty-five years of being a resident. The 800 route had to be drastically changed due to the Dragon Bravo fire having its way with the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. Forcing the race director, John Schilling, to get creative with the track to make sure all the racers going for the Triple Crown weren’t left with an asterisk for their efforts.
Although the 300 course mainly remained unchanged, recent storms have rearranged the trails like only rain in the desert can. The trail is extra chunky this year, and I couldn’t wait to see how the race would go in these conditions. Having just finished a southbound tour a couple of weeks ago, I experienced these “new” trail conditions firsthand and looked forward to seeing how riders more fit and talented than I would fare. Come along with me as I follow the first day of the 2025 Arizona Trail Race.
I arrived at the starting area around 5:30 a.m., and it was noticeably jovial compared to years past. It was unseasonably cold (for an Arizonan), and I found John Schilling and a group of racers huddled around a small fire. The banter was light as everyone made their last-minute adjustments while they crammed as much food into their face as possible. At 5:50 a.m., John gave some final instructions, which included: be nice, close the gates, and please consider donating to the Arizona Trail Association. Simple, yet effective words. Then, with very little fanfare, they were off.
The minor adjustment of the start location resulted in a gentle downhill on a gravel road for about a mile and allowed riders to sort out and settle in. Again, I was amazed at how light and casual the overall mood was. I jumped on my motorcycle and started a day of following.
My first stop is always at Parker Canyon Lake at mile 18. Riders had stretched out over gravel roads, and here they had their first taste of singletrack—and their last taste of the wide-open plains—before embarking on the seemingly endless wave of the Canelo Hills. These hills are legendary both for their beauty and difficulty. There are no masters of these cinnamon hills; you simply pass through and hope for the best.
My next stop is Canelo Pass, another 20 trail miles to the north. Just before the trailhead, I stopped to chat with a man on the side of the road standing beside his flatbed pickup truck. We bantered for a bit about the recent rains, and I told him about the race. He said to me, “Well, if it isn’t about the best damn weather for exercising in Arizona today, I don’t know what is.” I couldn’t agree more, sir. It was shaping up to be a beautiful day in the Borderlands. Not too hot, clear blue skies, and a nice cool breeze. I made my way on foot to the top of Canelo Pass, a punchy little climb with epic views of the Huachuca Mountains and clear into Mexico.
I sat waiting at the gate on top for quite some time, and it got me wondering. Just how many gates are on the AZT? I had a smidge of phone service, so I texted Matt Nelson, the Executive Director of the Arizona Trail Association. I figured if anybody would know, it would be him. He responded instantly with, “150!” I did the math in my head and laughed out loud. That averages out to one gate about every five miles. If you have ever ridden any part of the trail, you will think that is an underestimate. Matt went on to add, “We have replaced 125 of those with steel gates and roll-overs in the past 12 years. Totaling about $375,000 in expenses.” That is a lot of steel to put in some remote places, and I know every rider is grateful when they get to those roll-over gates. I was snapped out of my gate-filled daydream when Alex Shultz appeared out of seemingly nowhere.
This particular spot is a challenging place to take photos. I find it nearly impossible to capture the scale of the hills while at the same time doing the rider’s effort justice. But, as a few dozen riders passed me, it was hard to ignore how much everyone was smiling. I’ve never seen so many happy faces in these hills! Walking down from the pass, I encountered even more smiling. Pretty damn good weather for exercising, indeed.
The third stop finds me where the trail goes underneath Highway 82 just north of Patagonia. It’s not the most scenic location, but it’s one of the very few places along the trail where there is this kind of urban/wilderness interface. It’s simply a chunk of concrete going under a highway. But in previous years, I have seen people get off their bikes and lie in the cool sand with joy, and one rider vomit from heat exposure. It’s a fascinating snippet of trail, and I enjoy the juxtaposition it provides. For this location, I hid in the bushes. I felt the riders saw me too much at the last spot, and I wanted to capture whatever emotions transpired in that 50 feet of shade.
The first few riders through were silent, popping back out into the sun and confused as to where the trail went. The recent rains had washed away any sign of a trail through the sand, but it only led to brief pauses. Then I heard some conversation coming up the trail, two riders chatting away until they got to the underpass, the sounds of their tires in the gravel slowing down. There was no talking on the way through, then conversation picked right back up as the sun hit their faces and they started the climb into the Casa Blanca Canyons.
The Casa Blanca Canyons segment is a relatively new piece of trail that was designed with mountain bikers in mind. It’s a beautifully laid out piece of trail skirting the eastern flank of the Mt. Wrightson Wilderness. Before this addition, mountain bikers would have to ride thirteen miles of pavement and a chunk of two-track around the Wilderness to rejoin the trail. However brutal the false-flat grind of 3,000 feet over 19 miles is, it’s a welcome change from the old days of having to ride pavement. The views of the Mt. Wrightson Sky Island are with you the entire time, and it never gets old as you traverse the contours at its base. I considered hiking further to capture the scene, but I looked at the tracker and saw Alex Shultz, Miron Golfman, and Chase Kaufman quickly approaching my final destination at Kentucky Camp.
Kentucky Camp is the last stop on my AZTR journey for the day. It’s a small gold mining encampment from the late 1800s with a few historical adobe buildings and, more importantly, a water spigot. It is the oasis everyone is aiming for after 72 miles of trail. A place where racers tend to take extended breaks, rehydrate, and lounge at the picnic tables in the shade.
The camp hosts have been the same for the past three years, and their overly friendly chocolate Lab, Charlie, greets every racer as they refill their water. I arrived to find Alex trying to put his socks on while simultaneously petting a very excited Charlie. I didn’t expect to see him there already, and judging by how his gear was set out to dry, he had been there for quite some time. I asked how it was going, and he showed me the shriveled bottoms of his bare feet and said, “There’s so much water on the trail! My feet have been wet all day.” Indeed, the huge amounts of rain have left some washes still flowing and a surprising number of puddles on the trail. Foot care is a part of any bikepacking ultra, but rarely in Arizona. I have documented horrible wet foot injuries during races like the CTR and the Trans North Georgia. But those events are in places with regular precipitation. We can chalk it up to just another curveball from Mother Nature on the Arizona Trail.
There is no phone service down in the bowl of Kentucky Camp, so the tracker is useless. I had a screenshot from an hour previous, so I knew a loose running order of the riders. I took off on foot down the trail to see who I could run into. I scanned the shallow canyon in front of me for that perfect shot. But as the evening light filtered through the oak, mesquite, and knee-high grasses, I concluded that no photograph would be able to depict what I was seeing. So, I found a stump to sit on, overlooking a sweet piece of singletrack, and waited. I watched the shadows of the canyon creep from left to right across the trail, as my window for a good photograph slowly closed.
A few riders trickled through, and just as I was about to be engulfed by shade, Nicolette Jones, the women’s leader, came stomping up the trail. I packed up my things and power walked back to the water spigot, hoping to catch a few shots of Nicolette as she took a break. I got there just as she was departing, and knowing it was her first time on the AZT, I blurted out, “Any hot takes on the AZT so far?” Her response was quick, and she basically said it was too early to tell, but that she found the “rolling terrain” challenging to navigate compared to the extended climbs at home in Colorado. I said that she will be at the base of Mt. Lemmon before she knows it, and she should feel right at home. Then off she went to the north.
No ultra race is ever won on the first day, but it can surely be lost. Observing the riders progress through the day is a real treat. Some start fast and keep it there, especially the 300 riders. Others start slow and ramp up. Getting in their groove and pedaling their race by the time the sun sets. Others blow up completely and are left a shattered and cramping mess on the side of the trail. It’s a wonderful thing, playing bikes in the backcountry. Thanks for coming along with me.
Check out the 2025 Arizona Trail Race Tracker page for updates, where you can follow along on the live tracking map and stay tuned in for more event coverage. Find it here.Further Reading
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