Closer to the Crest
Monday, March 23rd, 2020: Chiricahuas, Hikes, Nature, Snowshed, Southeast Arizona, Wildfire.
After a bad cold limited my hiking for almost a month, I was anxious to rebuild my capacity and do more exploring. And in a time of global pandemic caused by urbanization, overpopulation, and globalization – among other failures of our imperialistic industrial society – I was super grateful that two decades ago, long before this man-made disaster, I’d made the decision to move to a region which consists of tiny enclaves of humanity in the midst of vast open spaces with mostly intact natural habitat. At a time like this, my situation couldn’t be in stronger contrast with the situation of most of my friends, who’ve chosen to live in the midst of vast concentrations of humanity surrounding tiny pockets of severely degraded nature.
So until our failing government declares martial law, I can still spend an entire day in wilderness without seeing another human. “Social distancing” – what a cruel joke on those who prize the benefits of big cities. The skyscrapers, the lights, the bustle, the restaurants, bookstores, bars, cafes, and nightclubs. Same as it ever was – the dangerous delusions of industrial civilization.
Today’s hike took me back to the range of canyons, a two-hour drive from home, to an unfamiliar trail that ultimately converged with the first trail I’d hiked there, back in January. This time, I was hoping to reach the crest, in a 12-mile round trip. But three things prevented that: the extreme steepness of the unfamiliar trail, my poor condition after prolonged sickness, and the need for multiple difficult stream crossings at the beginning of the hike.
Despite these challenges, I was able to get closer than before, within about a mile of the crest. And with many, many stops to catch my breath, I managed to climb a little higher than on any previous hike in the past 20 years or more.
Entering the mountains, I encountered a small herd of javalinas crossing the road
In the middle of the photo, the upper animal has a baby with her
The beginning of this trail crosses and re-crosses a stream, flooded with snowmelt, a half dozen times. Here, it’s at least 15 feet wide, and I had to search up and down stream for a place to cross precariously on midstream rocks and gravel islands
Here, at the site of an old dam, the stream was about 30 feet wide, and I had to begin by crossing this 12-foot log. It was rocking a little bit, so I straddled it and inched my way across, my pack making it hard to balance.
Here, post-wildfire erosion has resulted in extensive debris flow from the upper slopes, filling the lower canyon
Finally, the trail starts climbing toward the crest, where snow still lies on north slopes. My destination is behind that ridge!
The trail climbs steeply out of the canyon of the flooded stream
A redtail hawk circles overhead
A portion of the upper trail
A view northeast from the upper trail
After converging with the second trail, I re-enter the “pine park” that escaped the 2011 wildfire
Past the pine park, the trail does a 3-mile traverse of a steep, exposed slope where plants like this cling to cracks in the rock
Looking back east from the mostly south-trending traverse
A view ahead. I’m hoping to make it past all those ridgelines to the hidden crest
Getting closer to the snow!
This is as far as I could go today. The crest trail is a mile farther, around that far shoulder.
An aspen grove in a steep drainage
A view east down the main canyon
A stunted, high-elevation madrone
A ponderosa pine in a small, sparse grove that escaped the fire
One last view east over the main canyon, before crossing the watershed through the “pine park”
A countour or “down” feather from a raptor, from the bird’s chest or wing close to the body. About 4 inches long.
A view from the upper trail out over the canyon of the flooded stream
