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With my due date growing closer and closer - and my belly
getting bigger and bigger - John and I decided that we were going to have to
do more car camping, at least until I was in better shape to carry a forty
pound backpack! So, we made plans to go camping in the Workman's Creek area,
which would have been the perfect place to camp during the month of May...had
there not been a forest fire burning in the vicinity! By the time we returned
from Rocky Point on April 30, the Coon Creek Fire had already engulfed more
than 6,000 acres in the Sierra Ancha Wilderness Area, including Aztec Peak and
Murphy Ranch. A week later, that figure had jumped to 8,000 acres, fifty
percent of which had finally been contained. (We, of course, are saddened by
the loss, because the Sierra Ancha Wilderness Area had once been a beautiful
area, one that we had not yet had a chance to completely explore.)
Since we were unable to camp in Workman's Creek, we decided that our best bet
would be to camp on the Mogollon Rim - it had been a while since we had camped
on top of the Rim, so I thought that it would be nice to return there. John
suggested that we camp near Milk Ranch Point - maybe even in the same spot
where we got engaged - and for our day-hike, he came up with a number of
trails to choose from.
Our adventure began on Saturday morning, May 5. We left the house at 6:30
a.m., and after making our obligatory stops for gas and breakfast, we started
our drive to the Mogollon Rim, unaware of the adventures that would be waiting
for us there. After driving for two hours, we arrived on top of the Rim and
turned off on FR 300 - the famous Rim Road, where John and I had already had
many adventures, including numerous flat tires. Then, we turned onto FR 218,
which is the road that leads to Milk Ranch Point - and where we have had many
other adventures. That was where we wanted to set up camp.
But where to set up camp? That was the question. Our first choice was to find
the place where we had gotten engaged and see if we could camp there. (Keep in
mind that the last time we tried to camp there, we were forced to leave the
next morning when high winds blasted through our campsite, keeping us awake
all night and almost ruining John's plans to propose marriage.) It had been a
year and a half since that fateful day, so it took us a while to find that
site again; and when we did, we found it just the way we remembered it. I was
very excited as I stepped out of the van - it was like a sort of homecoming. I
vividly recalled how miserable I had been and how wonderful I felt after John
proposed.
Although I would have loved to camp there again, it just wasn't meant to
happen, because the same strong winds that had chased away the first time were
back! Instead of reliving the misery we had suffered on that horrible night,
we decided to stake out another site, one that wasn't on the very edge of the
Mogollon Rim. Before we drove away, though, we walked over to the spot where
John had proposed to me and held each other as we reminisced.
Our next choice for a campsite was to find the place where we had camped with
Bill and Erika during the weekend of the "funeral profession", in
July 1998.
We easily found that site along FR 218, and we were surprised to find that
there wasn't anyone already camped there! So we stopped there and set up our
campsite; then, we crawled into the tent to rest...and, of course, to play
around.
That was when we were reminded that the zipper on our 9X8 tent was broken! We
had a hell of a time getting the door closed! John remarked that he couldn't
wait to see me struggle with it in the middle of the night when I had to get
up to pee.
We finished resting around 11:30 a.m., at which time we decided to have lunch
and figure out what to do with the rest of our day. While we ate our
sandwiches, John opened up our Trail Bible and looked for easy trails that we
could go hike. Of course, we knew of several easy trails in the area, but we
had done all of them before. This time, we wanted to do something new. He
suggested that we do the Barbershop Trail #19. According to the literature, it
was supposed to be an easy, flat trail, and the trailhead could be found on FR
139, which was an all-weather road.
Before leaving for the trailhead, John suddenly found that there was an air
bubble on one of the rear tires - the air bubble hadn't been there when we
left the house that morning, so it had happened en route. Although we weren't
concerned about replacing the tire - all of the tires were still under
warranty - we were worried that the air bubble would burst while driving
around on all of those dirt roads...or worse yet, while driving on the
mountainous highway on the way home. At that point, John made the decision to
leave the tire where it was and drive around with the air bubble. There was no
sense in ruining our weekend over a faulty tire! He figured that it was better
for the tire to go flat while driving around on FR 300 at twenty-five miles an
hour than it would be to blow the tire doing fifty-five mph on Highway 87!
We left for our hike right after lunch, following the directions that we had
been given in the Trail Bible: take FR 300 to FR 139, turn left, and the
trailhead would be on the right. Unfortunately, the book didn't give us any
indication as to how far we would have to drive to get there (and we had
forgotten our Coconino National Forest map). So after driving for over a half
an hour without finding FR 139, we almost gave up and went back to camp. By
the time we reached the Dude Fire area, John was convinced that he had passed
right by it. Then suddenly, he found a sign at a trailhead that indicated that
there was a trail junction with the Barbershop Trail a mile and a half away.
That meant that we were indeed going in the right direction.
Finally, we found FR 139, and two miles later, we found the Barbershop
Trailhead, which was well marked with signs to indicate the trail. We parked
the van in the small parking area, and at 1:00 p.m. we began our hike. Our
plan was to hike to the end of the trail and back for a total of seven miles.
Considering that this was supposed to be a flat trail, we figured that it
wouldn't take us more than four hours tops. Our destination would be the cabin
at the end of the trail.
But we never made it that far. The trail was not at all as flat as we had been
led to believe. During the first mile of the trail, we descended into
Barbershop Canyon, climbed out of that, steeply descended into Dane Canyon,
and finally climbed steeply out of that towards a forest road. It was during
the climb out of Dane Canyon that I decided that the trail was too difficult
for me. John agreed, so we headed back to the van.
Although the trail was too difficult for me, I did find it very pretty - a
definite possibility for further exploration, perhaps even an easy backpack,
for a future date. John and I lingered for a while in Dane Canyon, where we
sat down on the grass next to the creek and ate Power Bars while we enjoyed
the scenery. It reminded us of the East Clear Creek area, because it was so
lush and green. (We came to find out later on that Dane Canyon eventually
merges with Barbershop Canyon, which then becomes East Clear Creek Canyon!)
In order to avoid the steep, rocky climb out of Dane Canyon, John suggested
that we follow the creek, because he was certain that it would take us back
into Barbershop Canyon. Though we didn't have a map to guide us, I knew that
he was correct, just based on my own sense of direction. However, after
following the creek for several hundred feet, we discovered that we had not
chosen the best route after all, because the creek soon became choked with
fallen logs and poison ivy. Instead of turning back, John looked up and said,
"The trail is just up there. We'll just go cross country."
That meant climbing up a cliff, which didn't look nearly as steep as it was.
Of course, once I was halfway up the cliff, there was no turning back, no
matter how scary it got. Gritting my teeth and trying to keep from crying, I
pulled myself up the cliff and eventually made it back to the trail, at the
point where the trail began to descend into Barbershop Canyon. "Well, honey,
we avoided the steep section of the trail!" John pointed out. (Great. Thanks.)
We made it back to van around 3:00 p.m., at which time we decided to head back
to camp to rest until dinner time. It took us an hour to drive back to camp
because we had to drive slowly in case of a blowout - not that we would ever
have a blowout (or two!) on FR 300! After returning to our campsite, the two
of us crawled into our tent and took a short nap.
We were awakened around five o'clock by the sound of children's voices in the
distance. As we emerged from the tent, we discovered that there was a family
in the campsite next to ours, probably a couple hundred feet away. There
weren't there to camp; my guess is that there were there to have a picnic.
What struck us as odd was that there were performing some bizarre dance in a
circle, like a coven of witches. "Look, honey," we remarked, "the
entertainment has arrived!"
Around the same time, we decided to start dinner. While John got the stove
ready, I began to pull out our food. "So what are we having?" John asked me as
I searched through the food box for our side dishes.
"Well," I replied, "I packed some canned vegetables and some pasta and rice.
Do you want rice or pasta?"
"What kind did you bring?" he asked, bending over the food box to see what I
had packed. A few seconds later, he discovered that there wasn't any pasta or
rice: I had forgotten to pack them! Instead of putting the ones I had just
bought in the food box, I had put them in the pantry. I felt like such an
idiot!
Although John didn't want to drive on the highway with that bad tire, he
suggested that we go into Clint's Well to buy a package of pasta or rice for
dinner. Along the way, while we were still on FR 218A, we saw a couple of
female elk grazing on the side of the road. John stopped driving so that we
could sit and watch them until they disappeared into the trees. Perhaps it was
a good thing that I forgot the pasta; otherwise, we wouldn't have seen them!
We made it to Clint's Well and back without incident, except for seeing a dead
elk along the side of the road, next to Clover Creek. ("Look, honey!" John
exclaimed. "Wildlife!") Soon after we returned to camp, we had a delicious
dinner on the table and a nice campfire nearby. We spent the rest of the
evening enjoying the warmth from our fire and the pleasure of each other's
company.
Despite the fact that it had been a little chilly during the night, thanks to
the wind that continued to blow well into the night, we managed to sleep quite
comfortably. We even had to get up at one point to answer nature's call and
found that it wasn't very cold outside at all. To add to our comfort, the
winds finally died down around 2:00 in the morning, which allowed us to sleep
peacefully until the crack of dawn.
Early the next morning, after I had poured my coffee and eaten breakfast, John
and I went for a drive to look for wildlife. Unfortunately, it was already too
late for us to see anything, but we did make it to Milk Ranch Point and back.
Along the way, we stopped at Dickinson Flat, where we had scattered his
grandfather's ashes in July 1998. (Bill asked us later if the grass around the
pine trees was still dead from all of the Malort we had dumped there!)
After returning to camp, John and I proceeded to pack everything up so that we
could get home a little early. Although we would have loved to stay a while
longer to explore, we needed to get home. We were supposed to be at his
parents' house by 4:00 that afternoon to meet John's second cousin Betina, who
was visiting from Aberdeen, Scotland with her husband and eight-month-old
daughter Hannah. We also had a million things to do around the house. So,
after changing out the bad tire and packing up our camping gear, John and I
said goodbye to the Mogollon Rim and drove home. The weekend's adventure was
over. |
