{"id":8615,"date":"2019-05-06T10:20:27","date_gmt":"2019-05-06T16:20:27","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/maxcarmichael.com\/blog\/?p=8615"},"modified":"2025-09-29T09:37:04","modified_gmt":"2025-09-29T15:37:04","slug":"first-steps-in-the-first-wilderness-part-3-may","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/maxcarmichael.com\/blog\/?p=8615","title":{"rendered":"First Steps in the First Wilderness Part 3: May"},"content":{"rendered":"

 <\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Third time a charm? Or perhaps a rude awakening.<\/p>\n

With the warm, dry days of May upon us, I was looking for a canyon hike this time. A chance to spend most of the day in the shade of riparian forest alongside a babbling brook. Like the previous hikes into our first wilderness area, this would end in a climb to the crest, but only if I felt like it after walking up the canyon bottom a few miles. And I didn’t expect to feel like it, because the last big hike, a thirteen-miler, had taken a lot out of me. I was beginning to suspect that I’d reached the limit of what my aging body was capable of, so this hike was intended to be more modest.<\/p>\n

I was starting late, after 11am, but there was only one vehicle ahead of me at the trailhead, and a half mile up the trail, I ran into its owner, an older woman with a small dog, on her way out already.<\/p>\n

What little information was available in advance suggested that at least the lower part of this canyon was somewhat developed, with a cabin and some sort of mine. And the first thing I noticed was the abundance of invasive dandelions, brought in by the horses and cattle of the pioneers.<\/p>\n

But this canyon had a lot more water too \u2013 probably four times as much as the previous canyon, rushing down from snowfields on one of the highest peaks in the range.<\/p>\n

And wildlife! I found myself wading through clouds of butterflies the whole way. Massive dumps of black bear scat fresh this morning, so I made sure to project plenty of noise to announce my presence.<\/p>\n

The terrain a little more rugged, with huge boulders, cliffs, and pinnacles looming everywhere. A mile or so in, I came to the abandoned cabin, and a little later, the mine, and after that it was all wilderness.<\/p>\n

\"It's <\/a>
It’s a two-Suzuki trailhead <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_1919\" <\/a> <\/div>
\"IMG_1920\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"First <\/a>
First view up the canyon to the peaks <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Some <\/a>
Some kind of fly-catcher – it kept swooping up to grab something out of the air, then returning to the same perch <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"First <\/a>
First Indian paintbrush of spring <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_1929\" <\/a> <\/div>
\"First <\/a>
First bear scat of the day <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Extremely <\/a>
Extremely primitive bridge <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_1936\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Black-headed <\/a>
Black-headed grosbeak <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_1940\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Dandelions <\/a>
Dandelions brought in by horses and cattle <\/div> <\/div>
\"First <\/a>
First glimpse of the cabin in the woods <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_1945\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_1947\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Primitive <\/a>
Primitive man hoped to evoke the spirits of game through the graven image <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_1950\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_1951\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Looked <\/a>
Looked like horse to me, but no tracks anywhere <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Some <\/a>
Some kind of larvae hanging on for dear life <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_1969\" <\/a> <\/div>
\"The <\/a>
The only patch of columbines I ran across <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_1975\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_1978\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_1985\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_1987\" <\/a> <\/div>
\"Looks <\/a>
Looks like a cow print – I figured a lone bull ranging up the canyon, and I hoped not to run into him <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_1989\" <\/a> <\/div>
\"IMG_1991\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Big <\/a>
Big damn bear! <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>\n

The endorphins kicked in and I was feeling good enough to climb out of the canyon to the saddle on the crest, which had been the absolute farthest I’d planned to hike. It was a long, steep, virtually straight slog through mostly burned forest in a side canyon.<\/p>\n

About a third of the way up, I suddenly heard barking from higher up the canyon ahead of me. Just three or four sharp barks, lower-pitched \u2013 nothing like a hunting hound or a coyote would make.<\/p>\n

Normally, you hear a bark, you expect either hikers or hunters, but I knew I was the only human in this whole watershed. There’d been no footprints or hoofprints in the canyon bottom. Could it be wolves? I didn’t really even know whether wolves could bark.<\/p>\n

I stood stock still and waited. After a few minutes, another bark, much closer, coming from the slope opposite me, where the view was blocked by trees. And another bark, already farther down the slope. Whatever it was, it was moving fast, covering twenty or thirty yards between barks, over steep, rocky terrain.<\/p>\n

I kept waiting, but whatever it was, it was long gone.<\/p>\n

A little farther, I came upon the bleached, scattered bones of a cow, strewn along the trail for a few hundred yards.<\/p>\n

The view at the top of the saddle was blocked by post-fire saplings. Still feeling good, I continued on up the trail, without a map, not knowing where it went from here, but excited about gaining some more elevation. The end of the next ridge was blocked by a huge rock outcrop, but the trail dipped and went around it, so I kept going, traversing into a new side canyon, hoping to eventually top out on a new crest with a new view.<\/p>\n

I came upon a section of trail very popular with elk, littered with piles of scat. But I knew I was pushing my body and would pay for it on the way back, so I finally stopped, in the midst of a stark burn scar with a spectacular view, and had a brief snack before turning back.<\/p>\n

\"Some <\/a>
Some poor bovine was finished off along this trail – by wolves? <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_1997Pano\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
<\/a>
The 10,600′ peak of Sacaton is actually hidden behind that crest <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Steep <\/a>
Steep traverse heading toward the saddle <\/div> <\/div>
\"Through <\/a>
Through the burn scar <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"The <\/a>
The view from the saddle, such as it is <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"View <\/a>
View across the main watershed, to patches of snow on the north slope of the opposite crest <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_2020\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Having <\/a>
Having rounded the corner of the ridge, not sure how much farther I want to go <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Cave <\/a>
Cave at the foot of that rock <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"The <\/a>
The view back out toward open country <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_2034Pano\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_2041\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_2045\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div>
\"A <\/a>
A boulder of breccia at which I stopped for my midday snack <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>\n

This trail didn’t deliver as much elevation gain as the previous wilderness hike, but it sure provided better footing! Despite being “unmaintained,” and blocked by countless deadfalls, the footing was mostly smooth dirt and dry leaves, which made my problem foot very happy.<\/p>\n

\"Popular <\/a>
Popular stretch of trail for elk <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Those <\/a>
Those pale patches are aspen, not yet leafed out <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_2052\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_2053\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_2054\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_2056\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Another <\/a>
Another view from the saddle, across two watersheds to the crest I climbed last month <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_2059Pano\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_2064\" <\/a> <\/div>
\"IMG_2067\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Finally, <\/a>
Finally, the canyon bottom! <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>\n

After the long traverse down the side canyon, I felt relieved to be back in the canyon bottom, figuring a walk-in-the-park back to the trailhead. But this is where my body started giving out.<\/p>\n

Hiking down the main canyon seemed to take forever, and I gradually lost most of the strength in my lower body, from hips to ankles, so that in some stretches I was stumbling every third step. I kept thinking “the cabin’s got to be around the next bend, and after that it’s only another mile or so.” But the canyon just kept twisting and turning, between its cliff walls.<\/p>\n

I got to a deep swimming hole I’d spotted on the way in, and climbed down to it, thinking an ice-cold plunge might just be the ticket. But the rocks and banks beside the pool were swarming with ants!<\/p>\n

Finally I reached the cabin. I was feeling just about dead, but I knew I had a climb ahead of me to get back out of the canyon. The final stretch was just a blur of aches and pains and fatigue, and after that I had about an hour’s drive back to town.<\/p>\n

I’d worn long pants this time, to avoid the rash and sunburn I’d gotten when hiking in shorts. But when I rolled up my pant legs, back at the vehicle, to loosen my tight boots, I discovered my lower legs were again covered with an angry rash. What I’d thought was sunburn or an allergy was actually the infamous “hiker’s rash” or exercise-induced vasculitis, a poorly-known condition in which the circulatory function of your lower legs fails and your blood vessels become engorged and inflamed. Apparently it’s incurable \u2013 you just have to deal with it for the rest of your life.<\/p>\n

So a rude awakening! After six months of striving for longer and longer hikes, it now seems I may be permanently limited to medium-distance treks. And that with a lightweight pack \u2013 who knows how much more restricted I’d be for backpacking? And my lower legs are just going to catch fire whenever I go out \u2013 no getting around that. All flesh is grass!<\/p>\n

\"IMG_2070\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div>
\"The <\/a>
The swimming hole surrounded by ants <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_2078\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_2079\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_2083\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Roots <\/a>
Roots and rock <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"Some <\/a>
Some kind of big four-engine jet – maybe a military transport? <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_2089\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div>
\"The <\/a>
The abandoned mine <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_2092\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_2093\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_2097\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div>
\"IMG_2098\" <\/a> <\/div>
\"IMG_2101\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

  Third time a charm? Or perhaps a rude awakening. With the warm, dry days of May upon us, I was looking for a canyon hike this time. A chance to spend most of the day in the shade of riparian forest alongside a babbling brook. Like the previous hikes into our first wilderness area, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":7550,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[49,67,60,58],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-8615","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-hikes","category-little-dry","category-mogollon-mountains","category-southwest-new-mexico"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/maxcarmichael.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/03\/IMG_1975.jpg?fit=2000%2C1500&ssl=1","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/maxcarmichael.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8615","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=8615"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/maxcarmichael.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8615\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":28455,"href":"https:\/\/maxcarmichael.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8615\/revisions\/28455"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/maxcarmichael.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/7550"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/maxcarmichael.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=8615"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/maxcarmichael.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=8615"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/maxcarmichael.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=8615"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}