Sarah Moore-Nokes, a longtime runner and mother of two college-aged children, shares her experience hiking with Another Mother Runner at Mammoth March Arizona on February 15, 2025.

Last fall, I signed up for Mammoth March Arizona because hiking 20 miles in the desert in February seemed like a fabulous idea for this Wisconsin gal: sand instead of snow; temps in the 60s; and sunshine that would feel warm instead of anemic.

I followed AMR’s Hike Like a Mother 16-week plan religiously, save for a spell in December when I was down with COVID. I tromped through the snow and ice at our local state park for hours, learning key skills like how to keep your hydration-pack tubing from freezing when it’s 2 degrees; how to warm a protein bar so you don’t chip a tooth biting into it; and how to hover-squat without peeing on your shoes when answering nature’s call. 

So when I arrived 10 days ago at McDowell Regional Park  with 1,000 other people (30 or so of them BAMRs), I felt ready. Even a little antsy to get moving. 

Saguaro cactus along the trail made for perfect scenery

The weather was perfect: temps in the low 50s (with a predicted high of 66), and cloud-free visibility for miles. We milled around a bit, took pictures, got one more stop at the port-a-potty, then at 8:30 we convened at the start line where organizers sent off groups of four to six every minute or so. 

It turns out that even when it’s not a race (and this was NOT A RACE), it’s hard not to go too fast. The first five miles were hilly (both up and down), curvy, and crowded yet they felt easy enough. And the views: Photos don’t do it justice. There’s something about desert light—somehow it’s simultaneously both muted and bright. The foothills in the distance looked a little hazy but the sky was an intense azure blue that, in contrast with the sandy-colored desert dotted with saguaros, made everything seem particularly vivid.

Eventually, we made our way into groups of three or four and settled into a comfortable pace. The path widened, the hills flattened, and the conversations started to move beyond the pleasantries of getting to know each other.

The second aid station was just before the halfway mark. As we arrived, people were milling around, standing in the port-a-potty line, reapplying sunscreen, and eating PB&J sandwiches that volunteers were rushing to keep up with demand. (They’d been through 40 loaves of bread already.) Refueled and refreshed, we headed back out after about 10 minutes. 

My group hit the halfway mark a little after noon, and I was feeling great. The training was clearly paying off!

Somewhere around Mile 13 or 14, we paused for an ibuprofen break. I think most of us were starting to have achy feet. My feet were sore but I was blissfully unaware of a growing blister on my left heel. With no timing chips and iffy cell service, it’s hard to know if we slowed down during the second half. I suspect we did and surely someone’s Strava could confirm but since it wasn’t a race, we simply weren’t that concerned about the time. The views were still gorgeous, and conversations flowed freely. We learned about each other’s families, work, hobbies, joys, and challenges.

16 down, 4 miles to go

Just passed Mile 17, I felt a stabbing pain on the outside of my left foot near my heel. I took a few more steps; the stabbing continued. What the heck? I took off my shoe to see fluid seeping through my sock. Yikes! I made quick calculations: With nowhere to sit, sand and grit everywhere, and wearing a sock liner as well as socks, no good could come of trying to fix this. So I popped that shoe back on, tightened it up to ensure it wouldn’t move, and resumed walking. Remarkably, it felt fine. 

Sarah, on the right, at the end of an epic day

Somewhere close to 4pm, we could hear the finish line announcer; we rounded one last corner and headed back under the starting arch. Medals, pictures, stamps for our Mammoth March passports, the official checkout (to make sure organizers didn’t lose anyone), and we were done! I was tired, a little sore, and ready to be off my feet, yet I also felt accomplished and content. 

This was my first long hiking adventure, yet it surely won’t be my last: I’ve already signed up for Mammoth March Minnesota in October!