Chipmunk Thief

At the Flagstaff, Arizona Arboretum:  

Me:  Hey chipmunk, are you stealing from the poor little hummingbirds?

 

Hummingbird:  We're just sharing. It's all good.  

Humphreys Peak, Arizona--the second time

Well, for about fifteen minutes on Monday, I was the highest person in Arizona!  This is Humphreys Peak, near Flagstaff, Arizona.  At 12,633 feet, it's the highest point in Arizona, and the views are spectacular.  

The hike is also quite achievable compared to some other peaks of this height.  The most common (and shorter) trail starts at the ski resort of Snowbowl, already at about 9200 feet, so you've only got about 3400 feet of gain over a trail less than five miles long (one way).  

Humphreys Peak at sunrise, from the trailhead

The first part consists of long switchbacks up through the forest, with the type of trees changing as you get higher, and the views getting more frequent and more impressive.  

Views from the trail (taken on the way back down)

Then you reach the saddle and...wow.  What views.  

The last part, above the tree-line, is really something.  The trail's rocky and sometimes a bit tricky to follow, the birds fly below you, and the 360-views are amazing.  

Looking back toward Agassiz peak from the trail near Humphreys Peak

For most hikers, this part takes a while because of the uneven terrain and the thin air (a mere 11,000 feet higher than I'm used to).  Be warned:  there are several false summits.  You think, "I'm almost there!" But you're not.  Keep on trekking.  It's worth it to stand on the peak. 

It wasn't as cold and windy as it sometimes is (my knit hat was comfy but not entirely necessary), so I stayed up there almost an hour, looking out over creation, reading the log books, eating my sandwich.  I had it all to myself for about fifteen minutes, which I think only happens if you're there early AND you're lucky (I started at 6:00 AM).  Then a nice couple came up and shared the peak with me, but they were considerate and quiet.  Then they left and I had it to myself again for a few minutes.  Fantastic.

Weather Warning:  in monsoon season, afternoon thunderstorms are very common and dangerous if you're caught up above the tree line.  But it's not just monsoon season.  Thunderstorms can brew up quickly other times of year.  If there's any chance of rain at all in the forecast, begin your hike early and head down off the peak by 11:00 AM so you can be back below the tree line by noon.  If there's any danger of lightning in the morning, stay below the treeline.

Timing:  If you're extremely fit, a fast and experienced hiker (or trail runner), and don't spend any time taking pictures, resting, watching wildlife, etc., and if you don't spend your breath talking much to your hiking companions, then you can make it to the top in 3 hours.  If you're used to high elevations, you might even be able to do it in three hours while also having enough air to make conversation.  But for most people, count on four hours or more to make it to the top.  Going down takes longer than you might expect.  Most hikers should probably count on three hours for the descent.  Take plenty of water and snacks.  And take time to enjoy it.  

Elevation:  if you're used to low elevations, try to spend the night before in Flagstaff.  Consider taking aspirin the night before and the morning of.  It helps with altitude sickness.  Avoid alcohol.  If you start feeling weird, slow down and be sure to drink water.  If you start feeling really weird, descend.               

Havasupai Gardens--a lush oasis

 I recently read a novel that takes place in the Grand Canyon, where the main character describes Havasupai Gardens (it was called Indian Garden then) as inaccurately named because there was little to no vegetation.  Um...

So, I took this picture in late spring, and it wouldn't be as green at other times of years, but even if you're used to lush places, you can't say this has no vegetation.  Especially considering what most people expect of the Canyon and compared to many other parts of the Canyon.  I don't think the author did any research.    

Breaking the Thermometer

You know how people joke that it's so hot the thermometers are breaking?  Well.  That LITERALLY happened last week in Phoenix.

One day we noticed that our thermometer outside had shot up past the 120F mark.  It wasn't near that hot.  In fact, we'd been having a "cool" spell with highs around 108-109 most days.   Anyway, it shot up...and never went back down.  Keep in mind that this claims to be an indoor-outdoor thermometer.  It was mounted in the shade, as all thermometers should be.  But the heat broke it.

This is a picture after it's been inside our air-conditioned house for 45 minutes.  Yep.  The heat broke our thermometer.    

 

Bear on the Mogollon Rim

So, I was backpacking a couple of weeks ago off a forest road on the Mogollon Rim, northeast of Payson, Arizona.  I set up camp and then went on a "safari," walking slowly and quietly along the dirt road, hoping to see deer or elk.  I hadn't gone far when I saw an animal!  He was near the edge of the road, half hidden in the vegetation.  I was excited for a moment until I realized it was just someone's big black dog.  But there was no person there.  And when I got a better view...it was no dog!  And there's only one other big black thing it could be.  A bear!  A BEAR!  

Now, I realize that in some places bears are super common and sightings are hardly even exciting anymore.  But despite all my camping and hiking in Arizona, I have NEVER seen a bear in the wild here.  I was far enough away that I wasn't really scared, just excited and wary.  I stood and watched him fuss around near the edge of the road.  Then he walked into the road, stopped, looked at me, wandered a few more steps, stopped, looked at me, and then sauntered off.

I was amazed.  But also...I was not very far from my camp.  A third of a mile, in fact.  So, the ONE time I see a bear up here is also the ONE time I'm camping completely alone and the ONE time I'm camping without a bear box or a vehicle to put my food in. I had a ratsack with a heavy duty supposedly smell-proof plastic bag inside, and it was hanging from a tree, but not really high enough to be safe from bears.  My system was more concerned with rodents. 

So I double-checked that there was NOTHING smelly at all in my tent, and then I spent the rest of the evening and night perking up every time I heard a sound.  "Bear?  Bear?"  But no, it was all good.

And the peace and quiet was beautiful.

Because I was backpacking and wanted to lighten the load, the only camera I had with me was my terrible tablet camera, so...my only pictures look like sasquatch hoax photos.  But here they are:

  

     

      

It Happened at Grand Canyon, by Todd R. Berger

I loved this, especially because when I read it, I was preparing for my third Grand Canyon hike, my first backpacking trip there. 

I really like books like this, with short chapters on different related subjects—in this case interesting events (not broad cultural/historical/geological overviews, but specific EVENTS) that took place at Grand Canyon.

A few chapters didn't hold my interest super well, especially the ones that got a little long on the politics or engineering, but other readers will really like those.  MOST of the chapters, however, were fascinating.  I already knew some of these stories, but even the ones I knew were told interestingly enough to keep my attention well. 

The book was well written, with an easy flow and none of the pretentiousness of some similar books.

My only real complaint was that it wasn't long enough.  I wanted more, more, more.

I would certainly read more by Todd R. Berger. 

4.5 stars

White Mountains, Arizona

The White Mountains, Arizona.  It was definitely the break I needed from the heat and lack of green.