Still Keeping Up at the Three-Quarters Mark

 

This first image is not where we began our hike on Saturday (my 75th birthday), and it was far, far below where Therese and I had begun last April (on her birthday). It wasn’t even last year’s beginning spot. No, this “beginning” is where three of us branched off on Saturday in a direction new to Kathy, Sunny, Yogi, and me, after we'd climbed already considerably.... But let’s backtrack a little.

You’re not seeing the 25-mile drive from Dos Cabezas to the Chiricahua Monument, nor the more than seven miles of very rutted road to the place we left our cars. Therese and I had parked higher up last year, but this year, with two cars, we decided to do more of the climb on foot – which turned out to be a fortuitous choice in more ways than one, as our last year’s “parking place” was flooded, providing our first encounter on foot that day with flowing water, which the dogs loved as much as the humans. (We had no idea then how many more watery thrills awaited us.) But I anticipate again, because before we got to that first flowing water, we had a long uphill climb, mostly in sun, along a boulder-lined – and sometimes boulder-strewn – road.

Therese and Kathy look down over the steep edge.

Is this mudstone? Are these fossils of ancient trees?

For Sunny, it's simply -- Big rock!!!

As I say, the road climbed. The sun was hot. As we went around the mountain, however, we were met with a cool, refreshing breeze. Ah, that was more like it....

Dog buddies on the trail

Old formations from prehistoric volcano

Below you see the water that had flooded an open pace, crossed the road, and taken water’s general downhill habit. Observe the happy dogs. Note the cool shade. And only a little way farther up the rocky road, back in the sun, we spied a congregation of spiny lizards, which I found very exciting.

A confusing sign, but we got the message.

Is it a mountain spiny lizard? That would be Sceloporus jarrovi.

The Chiricahua Monument itself is the official “wonderland of rocks,” but for me the entire mountain range is a wonderland of awe-inspiring formations. Therese was particularly captivated by manzanita in bloom, and look at the size of this single plant! I had her stand in front of it to illustrate the scale. 

Gigantic manzanita!

And now, water again. It never gets old. The sight and sound of it, the way it makes the colors of rocks sing, the way it calls to us --

Yogi (left) flees after being surprised by a deep pool.

Sunny is crossing cautiously, so as not to drop a bone she found, while Yogi hopes the bone will drop.

Oh, the heavenly scent of pine trees! And the towering majesty of the Ponderosa pines! After our usual diet of dusty desert walks, the tree-shaded creek canyon -- with water, too! -- feels and smells like paradise.

Along this minimally maintained mountain road were many boulders, deep ruts, and at one point it was clear that someone had very recently cleared away a fallen tree. 

No speeding here!

And now, at probably our fourth or fifth encounter with the creek (not counting walking a road that roughly paralleled the creek below most of the way), we decided it was time for our picnic. And the perfect place, despite the noise of rushing water. 

Maybe if you zoom in on the image of the (yet another) big rock below, you’ll be able to see the patterns that drew my eye and set me to dreaming of its distant past. 

The far side of the creek. We did not go across here.

What has this tree been through?!

What forces twisted these rocks? But life finds room to cling.

And it isn’t only rocks and trees that have history. The road itself speaks mutely of what it used to be. 

Here almost half the road has crumbled into the creek.

Bedrock exposed on the road

Now we have climbed up away from the creek and back into the sun. This might be close to our highest elevation of the day, 6,365 feet above sea level. Or maybe it wasn’t. I didn’t really keep track, but bear in mind that our ghost town is somewhat less than a mile high. 

This is close to our highest elevation of the day.

But even this high, snowmelt has sent flowing water across our road, on its way downhill to reach the creek. 

Ah, shade!

What do you see here? What can you imagine or speculate?

We had left our ghost town at 9 a.m., and when I got back it was 3:30, so I’ll say we hiked for about five hours. And it was a glorious way to celebrate reaching my three-quarters-of-a-century mark, 75 years of age! Congenial company, vigorous exercise, exciting vistas, the thrill of flowing water, and the always amusing antics of our canine companions – I couldn’t have asked for more. And yet there was more, because another neighbor had us over for dinner that evening! Can you believe it? In short, I had another birthday, am halfway through my eighth decade of life, and despite losses along the way I am surviving. 

 

Of all the photographs in this post, which one is your favorite? Or how about top three? I know at least two that would make the cut for me, but I’ve not scrimped in presenting our adventure, because three images would not have been nearly enough. I’ll close with a funny one, though – at least, funny if I give you the story that goes with it. At 9 a.m., Sunny and I were in the car at the bottom of the driveway, down by the highway, waiting for Therese and Kathy to drive by so we could convoy to Pinery Canyon, Sunny with her most alert expression…. And then their car went by, and Sunny knew it was Therese, and she knew Yogi was in that car, so she sat forward, eyes fixed on that vehicle for over 30 miles, not about to lose sight of her friends and miss any fun! And of course, as you have seen, she certainly did not. Happy ending!

Always up for adventure!

Another Exhilarating, Exhausting Mountain Adventure!

Bonita Creek at visitors center parking lot, 1/22/23

My hiking partner wanted to introduce her new puppy to the Chiricahua National Monument and invited me to come along. We would hike a short trail, the one between Faraway Ranch and the visitors center, a trail that more or less follows Bonita Creek, does not involve climbing, and where dogs on-leash are allowed – in short, an easy trail that shouldn’t give a three-month-old puppy any trouble at all.

 

Over the years following our first introduction to the place, the Artist and I made countless visits to the CNM, an easy drive from the ghost town, down one of the most beautiful Cochise County roads. We picnicked along rocky Bonita Creek (bone-dry in December of 2021) and explored lovely Faraway Ranch and its history. We had walked about a mile of the trail beginning at the other end, too; however, although the trail between its two end points is only 1.2 miles, I had never walked the entire length at one go. 

 

My friend and I, having decided to begin our round-trip walk at the visitors center end, were delighted to see water in the creek. Not just a thin trickle, either. The park is a treasure even when the creek is dry, but running water, in Arizona, is always exciting and adds to outdoor experience.

Creek below, peak above

We stopped often, pointing out to each other particular stunning vistas and giving the puppy a chance to explore with her nose. My appreciation of the trail’s beauty was somewhat tempered by sorrow that the Artist was no longer with me, as memories of being there together came at every turn. But it was a beautiful day, and I was glad to be in the mountains. 

This is the trail???

My first challenge came when our trail, familiar to me in this stretch, took on a very unfamiliar look: I had never seen this much water in the creek that crossed the trail at right angles. My friend picked her puppy up in her arms and stepped bravely from rock to rock. I tried, but the necessary steps between rocks were too long for me to take them in stride, as it were. As I saw it, I had two choices: 

 

Wading the creek: The water was icy cold, and my boots not water-proof. My feet would get wet and cold. 

 

On the other hand –

 

Taking the rock route: If I slipped and fell, more than my feet would get wet, and falling on rocks could mean getting a lot more than wet. What if I slipped and fell and hit my head? No cell phone signal! Very few people on the trail that day. (The whole time we were on the trail, we saw only four other people, one couple from each direction, and all turned back from what was for us the third creek crossing.)

 

So I scouted out the shallowest path I could see, hiked up my jeans, and waded across. Yes, it was very cold!

Having taken the plunge already, our second creek challenge was easier for me. The creek was wider and shallower there. Again, my friend carried her puppy.

Does not look challenging You are not looking at it with cold, wet feet.

We were hoping to see coati, and those hopes were not realized on Sunday, but approaching Silver Spur meadow we saw deer and stopped to watch their lovely, easy, flowing trot across our path and up into the woods. As you might guess, the puppy was mesmerized by the sight. My year-old puppy would have barked, had she been with us.

Farther along came Challenge #3. Intrepid wader by now, I crossed pretty much with the submerged path, while my friend explored downstream for solid rocks, and a couple who had caught up with us on the trail explored upstream. The other people turned back, but my friend made a daring and successfully dry crossing while I held my breath, praying that she would not lose her footing. 

Exploring upstream before turning back

 

My fearless friend!

Pup in arms!

Still high and dry!

On dry land once more, we came to one of my friend’s favorite trees. It turns out she is, literally, a tree hugger! The puppy found greater interest in a trunk hollowed out by fire, as we humans admired the grain of its wood.

Oops! Puppy moved out of shot....

Now we had gone beyond my former explorings, and soon we came to something I had never seen before: the Stafford Cabin. Sweet! You can read about its history and the family who lived in the cabin here.

From there it was an easy walk to beloved Faraway Ranch, where we walked around the old house, renewed familiarity with its history, and visited with a group of people from Alaska before turning back in the direction of the visitors center, taking a slight detour from the house to go by a ranger’s cabin. One of the things I always think about at Chiricahua is how one of the grandsons, a forester with experience in public works forestry, would love the place. In my mind’s eye, I can see him here, living in this cabin and enjoying the views. 

Ranger cabin

Looking back at Faraway Ranch

Savannah-like open area

The biggest surprise of the day was manzanita in bloom – in January! 

Manzanita flowers

There were, of course, three more crossings of Bonita Creek to make on our way back – three more times for me to wade through icy water in boots and socks already soaked through, three more times for my friend to negotiate a dry, rocky crossing with puppy I her arms. End of tale: I was wet halfway up to my knees, my friend slipped and got one foot wet, the puppy managed to get into fresh, black mud, but otherwise all three of us did just fine. 

 

Being on the trail Sunday was definitely worth wet feet. I thought of Washington Irving on his expedition through Oklahoma territory (A Tour on the Prairies) and how important it was for their party to find a camping spot near water each night. By contrast, I would soon be back in my comfortable, warm cabin, where I could put on dry socks and relax with my own puppy. But to have seen so much water in the creek, sparkling in the sunlight, was a thrill. 

Reaching home, tired but contented, I went out for a ramble with Sunny Juliet before even changing my footwear, because my puppy needed some fun in the sun, too! -- You’re probably wondering why Sunny Juliet was not included on the adventure. She and Yogi have met each other and have compatible energy levels and play styles, so we anticipate they will be great pals soon, but Yogi is so little right now that my friend and I don’t want to stress her out too much or take a chance that she will be hurt accidentally by a rowdy, much bigger dog. The good news is that Yogi will be bigger every week, and we look forward to playtime together with the two of them. As for trail hikes with the two of them, two excited puppies on-leash, that might be more than I could handle, even with dry feet.

My girl on Big Rock (one of them)!