{"id":24361,"date":"2024-06-17T12:04:53","date_gmt":"2024-06-17T18:04:53","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/maxcarmichael.com\/blog\/?p=24361"},"modified":"2024-10-14T10:26:13","modified_gmt":"2024-10-14T16:26:13","slug":"far-from-anywhere","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/maxcarmichael.com\/blog\/?p=24361","title":{"rendered":"Far From Anywhere"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/p>\n

The paired wilderness areas north of my hometown, the first established in the U. S., encompass almost 1,200 square miles of mountainous terrain. After I moved here 18 years ago, it was another 12 years before I found the time to begin exploring them on foot.<\/p>\n

There’s a challenging dirt road, closed in winter, that runs north between them, but apart from that, this vast block of wilderness creates a roadless barrier between us and the rest of the state. I’ve long been curious about the north end of the wilderness, but until now I’d never ventured up there, because it requires a three-hour drive around the perimeter, most of that on rough dirt roads.<\/p>\n

\"Heading <\/a>
Heading from home – below center – northwestward to the upper edge of our wilderness <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>\n

But with travel and joint pain forcing me to give up hiking since early May, I was going stir crazy. It’s been hot here, and I found myself longing for the cool shade of our high-elevation mixed-conifer forests. I could find that near home, but the highest point I can drive to is up on that northern edge of the wilderness \u2013 the legendary road, also closed in winter, that traverses the entire northern edge.<\/p>\n

I’d driven up there from the west a few times to hike the crest trail, but past the trailhead, the road continues into terrain I’d never seen, terrain that’s got to be among the most remote in the lower 48 states. Although it’s crisscrossed with dirt forest roads and ranch roads, there are no paved roads anywhere near it. It’s a two-hour drive on rough dirt tracks from the nearest paved road or cell phone signal. It’s a three-and-a-half hour drive from the nearest small towns, and a five-hour drive from the nearest city.<\/p>\n

The mountains rise to almost 11,000 feet, and the lowest points, the canyon bottoms, are nearly 7,000 feet in elevation. Once I reached the end of the paved road in the tiny ghost town, I entered the cool forest of pines, firs, spruce and aspen, and began climbing over 2,000 vertical feet on a rocky and deeply eroded dirt road that in many places was only wide enough for one vehicle. For the rest of the day, I would approach every blind curve not knowing whether a big truck would come barreling around it toward me, and if we didn’t collide, one or the other of us would have to yield and back up to the nearest wide spot.<\/p>\n

\"Just <\/a>
Just beyond the ghost town, I had to move part of a fallen tree off the forest road <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>\n

The road tops out at 9,000 feet and begins traversing the north slope of the high mountains, winding in and out of deep drainages, with a long view to your left across a 3,000-foot-deep canyon to another big mountain in the north. I needed a break from the dangerous driving so I turned off as soon as I reached the traverse.<\/p>\n

These slopes burned patchily but at high intensity in the 2012 mega-wildfire. My turnout remained forested, but a dirt track led upward into the burn scar, to a small cleared plateau which had probably been used to land firefighting choppers, and I hiked up there, about a third of a mile, to get a view north. This scar had filled in with dense New Mexico locust, which was in bloom.<\/p>\n

Not a cloud in the sky as far as the eye could see, but a thin haze hung in the canyons and lowlands. Breezy and cool up here, but the day was obviously going to be warm.<\/p>\n

\"Locust <\/a>
Locust blooming in burn scar at 9,200′ <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Panorama <\/a>
Panorama north from crest across 3,000′ deep canyon to 10,000′ peak <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>\n

That high traverse is only a little over five miles long, but takes about twenty minutes to drive. I soon came upon a Ford Escort \u2013 you can’t drive a car up here, but city SUVs will just about handle it. The little SUV was backing toward me, so I waited to see what he was up to. He pulled to the left for some reason and let me past \u2013 a retired couple out sightseeing.<\/p>\n

I passed the trailhead that was the farthest I’d driven before. From now on, everything felt more and more remote. I encountered a couple of widely-separated trucks, but the traverse has plenty of wide spots for passing. In and out of dark forest, locust-choked burn scars, and black volcanic talus slopes. Finally I reached the end of the traverse and descended onto a long, narrow east-trending ridge, with a steep dropoff at my right to the deep canyon of a major creek. From studying maps, I knew the road would eventually descend to the creek, where there would be a campground.<\/p>\n

The landscape ahead of me to the east was rolling terrain, averaging 8,000 feet, burn scars and grassland punctuated in places by higher forested mountains with gentle slopes. It reminded me somewhat of my beloved White Mountains of eastern Arizona, although nowhere near as spectacular. The best thing about this area was its remoteness.<\/p>\n

\"After <\/a>
After descending from traverse, looking back west across eastern canyon toward highest mountains of range <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Heading <\/a>
Heading out long eastern ridge through burn scar of 2012 wildfire <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"View <\/a>
View east across wilderness <\/div> <\/div>
\"Approaching <\/a>
Approaching end of long ridge, with creek in canyon below at right <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>\n

The heights had been dry, like most of our region for the past three months. So it was a relief to see the creek running through dense willows and lush grasses beneath tall pines and firs. However, the road soon turned away and entered the harshest burn scar I’d ever seen in this region. Apparently the soil and its seed bank had been scorched and sterilized, so as far as the eye could see the low slopes were lined with nothing but dry grasses and annuals beneath the snags of burned tree trunks.<\/p>\n

After climbing to a plateau at 8,000 feet, the road stretched out due east, almost perfectly straight for seven miles. I passed a little Jeep SUV, and came upon a big truck with a huge fifth-wheel trailer, parked in the road, which was fortunately wide enough to pass. A beautiful young girl wearing hippie garb sat on an ATV in front of the truck, and I waved as I slowed to pass.<\/p>\n

A mile farther, nearing the end of the plateau, I came upon a Forest Service truck that stopped next to me. The driver said to be careful because a truck was broken down up ahead. He said the RV I’d passed was part of the same group, waiting for help. It was Sunday and I figured the nearest operating tow service would be four or five hours away.<\/p>\n

I passed the disabled truck and descended into a shallow, grassy valley where the road turned south, and spotted a little lake below forested hills at the far end.<\/p>\n

\"Heading <\/a>
Heading north from creek into severe burn area <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"All <\/a>
All the life that remains 12 years after fire <\/div> <\/div>
\"Straight <\/a>
Straight road east on 8,000′ plateau <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Descending <\/a>
Descending into shallow valleys <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Remote <\/a>
Remote lake ahead <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>\n

This was the reservoir of a creek that been dammed \u2013 maybe for ranching originally, but now for recreation. The road had been skirting the northern boundary of the wilderness the whole way, and the reservoir lay at the center of the northern boundary. It was hard to imagine a more remote place, but it looked well-maintained.<\/p>\n

It’d taken me four hours to get here, and by chance it was noon. The big parking lot was empty, and I could see only two or three vehicles in the campground that sprawled back in the forested hills above the lake. I drove up to a scattering of unoccupied picnic tables overlooking the lake and found one in the shade where I started on the snacks I’d brought, and made the unusual decision to have a daytime beer.<\/p>\n

Sitting there with that idyllic scene laid out before me, featuring ponderosa pine, the west’s iconic tree, I couldn’t help thinking of my dad. He’d love this place, once all the chores were done and he could relax. So many of us \u2013 Calvinists, WASPs, northern Europeans \u2013 both benefit and suffer from the compulsion to put work before pleasure, and the beer was helping me self-medicate.<\/p>\n

\"Today's <\/a>
Today’s drive, from home at bottom to lake at top – everything at right is wilderness <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Forest <\/a>
Forest on that hill burned recently <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Early <\/a>
Early beer <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Fresh <\/a>
Fresh water! <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Western <\/a>
Western bluebird above picnic table <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>\n

Too much of the day remained for me to even consider driving home, and I wanted to try an easy hike. But this area was too exposed for such a cloudless day. I decided to drive back to the creek crossing and check out a trailhead I’d passed on the way here.<\/p>\n

I pulled into the small dirt lot at the trailhead alongside a big truck, and a short man jumped out holding an even shorter fishing rod. “You fishin’?” he asked with a smile. I said no but wished him luck.<\/p>\n

The trail entered the big trees where a smaller tributary joined the main creek. I saw the fisherman scrambling over rocks and stopping to cast a fly on a long line upstream. I’d never seen such a short rod used for fly casting.<\/p>\n

The narrow valley was beautiful, lined with dark volcanic bluffs, the trail winding through shady groves and sunny meadows, the creek always near, murmuring over rocks. Birds and butterflies were everywhere \u2013 swallowtails, woodpeckers, flickers, bluebirds. I made it more than a mile and a half \u2013 my knee complaining every time I had to step over a log or boulder \u2013 finally emerging into a wide, shady “pine park” where the creek flowed wide and shallow and I watched native trout hatchlings shimmy their way upstream.<\/p>\n

On the hike, I’d felt a lot of pent-up energy rising to the surface \u2013 my body really missed being put to work. I felt like I could’ve walked all day, but would’ve ended up in serious pain. Still, I was happy, and temporarily at peace, just being there.<\/p>\n

\"Remote <\/a>
Remote highlands <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Wild <\/a>
Wild roses at the trailhead along the creek <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"New <\/a>
New growth on fir <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Fly <\/a>
Fly fisherman <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_3068\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_3084\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Volcanic <\/a>
Volcanic bluffs above creek <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Chipmunk\" <\/a>
Chipmunk <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_3106\" <\/a> <\/div>
\"IMG_3107\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Today's <\/a>
Today’s hike, showing road above and lake at far right <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_3116\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_3126\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Wild <\/a>
Wild iris <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_3129\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>\n

As I mentioned before, the traverse along the crest is pretty nerve-wracking, never knowing when or what you’re going to meet coming around those blind turns. But I was plenty calmed down. I did encounter one truck that was coming faster than was safe, but I had enough space to pull over and wait for him to react. I actually ended up passing the sightseeing retirees again toward the end of the traverse.<\/p>\n

The descent to the ghost town is the most dangerous part, because it includes really long blind, narrow stretches where backing up safely would be almost impossible. But I made it to the bottom without meeting anyone, only to reach the abandoned cabin \u2013 the most remote of all the cabins in the forest above the ghost town \u2013 to find a truck pulled over and people standing in the road.<\/p>\n

I stopped next to them, and a tall man introduced himself as the new owner of the abandoned cabin. A young girl leaned out the driver’s window of the truck, and another man squatted outside, sharpening a chainsaw. They all seemed really excited. Having a cabin in the forest like that would feel like a dream come true until the next wildfire and the ensuing flash floods tearing down the canyon, destroying your access if not the cabin itself.<\/p>\n

From there, it was a short drive to the paved road and the ghost town, the next scary stretch of twisting one-lane descending to the mesa, and finally rejoining the lonely north-south highway. I could more or less take the highway home on autopilot, until when approaching the gate of our biggest ranch, I spotted what looked like a small mammal ahead in the middle of my lane.<\/p>\n

I was going 65 but had enough road left to carefully slow down. The thing wasn’t moving, but when I was close enough to focus on it, it looked exactly like a porcupine, facing me with all its quills erect. Porcupines supposedly live around here, but I’d never seen one. This one wasn’t yielding right of way, but another vehicle was coming fast behind me, and I suddenly realized that what looked exactly like a porcupine was actually the top of a narrow-leaf yucca that had rolled onto the highway! So I swerved around it and stepped on the gas.<\/p>\n

By the time I returned home, I had driven over 200 miles, ascending and descending nearly 20,000 feet of accumulated elevation. And I’d still only driven about a third of the way around the perimeter of our wilderness!<\/p>\n

\"Panorama <\/a>
Panorama north from descent from ghost town, with smoke from new wildfire left of center <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Moonrise <\/a>
Moonrise behind crest of range <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The paired wilderness areas north of my hometown, the first established in the U. S., encompass almost 1,200 square miles of mountainous terrain. After I moved here 18 years ago, it was another 12 years before I found the time to begin exploring them on foot. There’s a challenging dirt road, closed in winter, that […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":24378,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[140,144,49,127,60,83,4,58],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-24361","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-2024-trips","category-gila","category-hikes","category-middle-fork","category-mogollon-mountains","category-regions","category-road-trips","category-southwest-new-mexico"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/maxcarmichael.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/IMG_3041.jpg?fit=1200%2C900&ssl=1","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/maxcarmichael.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24361","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/maxcarmichael.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/maxcarmichael.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/maxcarmichael.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/maxcarmichael.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=24361"}],"version-history":[{"count":10,"href":"https:\/\/maxcarmichael.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24361\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":24422,"href":"https:\/\/maxcarmichael.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24361\/revisions\/24422"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/maxcarmichael.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/24378"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/maxcarmichael.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=24361"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/maxcarmichael.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=24361"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/maxcarmichael.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=24361"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}