We did make one stop along the way; we stopped at the Wal-Mart in Payson to get a few supplies that we were missing, including sunglasses for me and John.  We also picked up a small, green Nerf ball for Mary to play with along the trail.  It was cheap, so if we lost it along the trail, it wouldn't matter... 

It was nearly 10:00 a.m. when we finally pulled off onto FR 142 on the Mogollon Rim; it was going to be another late start for us, so we were glad that we were going to be hiking such an easy trail. It would probably only take us an hour to get to camp, and after Mary's nap, we would still have plenty of time to explore in the afternoon.

It seemed like everything was going our way...until we came to the road to the trailhead and found that it was closed. The Forest Service had placed a temporary barricade at the junction of the road, which meant that the road was not permanently closed. We guessed that there were repairs being done to the road but that it would be open again soon.

Being the die-hards that we are, we didn't let a little thing like a road closure stop us from enjoying our backpacking trip. Instead, we parked the car and prepared to walk the length of the road to the trailhead. It would tack about a half of a mile onto our trip, but that was okay with us because we needed the exercise.

After loading up our packs and sharing our traditional trail kisses, John and Mary and I set off on adventure into Clover Creek. We began by hiking the road, which was rather easy but very exposed - it was only ten o'clock in the morning, but it was already warming up to be a very hot day. 

It didn't take us long to figure out why the road had been closed; a few hundred feet down the road, we came to the first of several downed trees.  We figured that they must have been blown down during the winter, but that the Forest Service had not yet been able to clear them from the roadway.

To avoid having to climb over all of those downed trees, we decided to walk up on the embankment on the side of the road.  That was rather nice, because it wasn't as exposed.  As we reached the trailhead, however, we did have to find a way down from the embankment to the road, which was now fifty feet below us.  I managed to find us the easiest route down, and soon we were back on the road again, just shy of the trailhead.

Having hiked a half of a mile already, it was time for Mary to take a short break before continuing onwards.  We sat down in the shade near the trailhead and ate snacks while John read the bulletins on the kiosk.  He was interested in finding out as much as he could about the riparian restoration project that had been taking place there over the past few years.  Sometime after 1999, the road to the trailhead had been closed and rerouted via FR 142, to allow regrowth of the area.  During another phase of the project, bulldozers had been brought in to reroute Clover Creek.  Some areas had been blocked off by electric fences to allow only certain animals into the area.  All of these efforts were to restore that overused land to its natural state again...and there was no doubt that it was working.  Clover Creek was just as lush and beautiful now as it was when we had first hiked it, almost seven years ago.

And so, for the first time in nearly five years, we started hiking the Clover Creek Trail.  I couldn't help but feel a little bit nostalgic as we stepped off onto the trail that morning; in a way, it was sort of like coming home.  John and I had spent many an afternoon, hiking and bushwhacking through the canyon, trying to find our way to Tom's Creek.  Years later, it was the place where we had taken Mary on her first day hike, just nineteen days after she was born.  It was also the site of Mary's first backpacking trip, one week later (at twenty-six days old).  I guess for that reason, Clover Creek will always hold a special place in my heart.

We walked along the old road to the bridge then crossed the creek; there, we took another break so that Mary's little legs could rest a bit before we continued on into the wilderness.  During that break, John read to Mary from a book called "Just Me and My Dad", a Little Critters book about going camping with Daddy. 

We paused again at the wilderness boundary, a few feet away.  As I stated earlier, I was feeling nostalgic about being back in Clover Creek, so I wanted to get picture of John with Mary at the wilderness sign, just as I had done the first time we had taken her there.  I enjoyed comparing the two pictures to see how much Mary had grown in those five years.

And, of course, John insisted on taking a picture of me and Mary at the wilderness sign, too!

From there, we kept going, taking short breaks here and there, hoping to get to camp around lunchtime.  Initially, John had wanted to make it all the way to the campsite we had used during our "Trip of Fools" (Mary's first backpacking trip), but based on our pace, we knew that it would be better to set up our camp at the "Luxury Backpacking" site that we had used exactly six years ago.  It was only about three-quarters of a mile from the trailhead, so it wouldn't take us nearly as long to get there...

...or so we thought... At lunchtime, we arrived at a shelf that we thought to be that campsite, only now it was lacking the stone chairs that someone had set up many years ago.  It was even missing the campfire ring that had been established.  Convinced that that was the site, though, we decided to drop our packs and have lunch there before deciding if we should continue or not. 

After lunch, we made the decision to keep going, so first, John scouted out the trail ahead of us to see if we were close.  It didn't take him long to discover that we were only about 500 feet away from the luxury campsite that we were looking for - it was only one shelf over, and it was almost exactly as it had been six years ago, complete with the stone chairs!

We set up camp then put Mary down for her nap.  John, too, decided to lay down for a nap; he was suddenly very drained.  When asked what was wrong, he explained that his hand was throbbing with pain - it hurt him so much that he just wanted to cry.  Although it wasn't swollen or bruised, it felt like it was broken...but he just couldn't figure out how it had happened!  (He was able to get in to see a doctor a few days later and found out that it was indeed broken, but to this day, he still cannot figure out how he managed to break his hand.)

Although our intention had been to spend the afternoon exploring up in the canyon, those plans were quickly scrapped.  Instead, we spent a very quiet day at camp.  Mary slept for most of the day, and John nursed his sore hand.  Not one single person hiked through our camp that afternoon, so we had the wilderness to ourselves.  Who could ask for a more peaceful time?

As the afternoon wore on, it became very hot, and the three of us struggled to find shade.  Even though it beat being in Phoenix that day, it was still very uncomfortable.  We were grateful when the sun finally went down that evening.

To go with dinner that night, we had brought along a bag of wine, which we had been chilling in the creek.  It was not the usual rotgut that we used to buy, though; we had decided to try out the boxed wine that is now being sold at Target.  We found it to be rather enjoyable, and it added just the right touch to the end of our day of luxury backpacking.

To keep with tradition, we were all in bed early that night; Mary and I slept in the tent, and John slept on the tarp next to the campfire, under a bright full moon.

After sleeping through a warm and comfortable night, John and I awoke at five a.m. and started off the day with breakfast next to the campfire.  Mary was awake an hour later.  Once we were all fed and dressed, John suggested that we go on a little adventure.

It had been six years since he had found that "grass highway", high up on the hill above our campsite, and he thought it would be fun to try to find it again - this time, so that he could show it to me and to Mary.  At first, Mary didn't want to go, but John decided to turn it into a little scavenger hunt for her, just to keep her interest in the hike.  Along the way, she would have to find three objects: a bird, a yellow flower, and a stick shaped like a "T", and he even gave her a small baggie in which to put her things once she found them.  She liked that idea and willingly followed us up the hill.

The climb up the hill was steep, and it took us nearly half an hour to make it all the way to the top.  Once we were there, we found a number of fun treasures.  In the midst of the tall ponderosa pines, we found the remains of an old cabin, of which two half-walls were still standing among a pile of wood.  (John had not seen that old cabin before.)

The other treasure that we found was the "grass highway" that John had once seen so many years ago.  It was in fact an old forest road that had probably been used long before West Clear Creek was a wilderness area; now, it was covered with grass, having been closed to motorized vehicles.  The grass highway was just begging to be explored, so the three of us started hiking along, to see where it would take us.

Unfortunately, we didn't make it very far at all; it was already getting late in the morning, and Mary didn't want to go any further.  Considering that we already had a long day ahead of us, we decided that it wasn't a good idea to wear Mary out that early.

Upon returning to camp, we spent the next half an hour getting everything packed up to go.  Around 9:30 a.m., we were ready to begin hiking back to the car.

As we hiked along the trail, Mary insisted that we start looking for her green Nerf ball, because naturally, we had lost it on the way in!  It had fallen out of John's pocket, but we had no idea where it was.  I thought for sure that that ball was gone forever, so I was completely shocked when I found it lying right in the middle of the trail, only a quarter of a mile from camp!

Our return hike was uneventful but very painful for John; his hand was still throbbing with pain, and it didn't help that he had to lift Mary up and over fallen trees or hold her hand as they crossed the creek.  They were both struggling; I suppose that it why it took us nearly two hours to get to the washed-out bridge, a quarter of a mile from the trailhead.

We stopped just shy of the trailhead to have lunch; there, we rested in the shade and ate macaroni and cheese while we prepared for the last leg of our hike, through the blown-down trees that blocked the road.  Though it was only a half of a mile, we were certain that the trees were going to slow us down considerably; and since we had not hiked in along the road, we had no idea what we were in for...

For the most part, the obstacles were not that bad.  We were able to step over the fallen trees with no problem at all.  But then there were the trees that had not completely fallen over, that still had branches intact.  Those were the worst, because there just was an easy way around them.  We had to maneuver through the branches, which were still too green to break off easily; that resulted in a number of cuts and scrapes on our legs and arms, as well as a lot of frustration, too, so we were all glad to see the last of the fallen trees, at the end of the road.

We arrived at the car shortly after noon; the sun was already baking on us, meaning that it was going to be another scorching day on the Mogollon Rim.  And if it was that hot in the high country...well, I didn't even want to think how hot it was going to be in Phoenix...

But that was where we were going.  Another adventurous weekend was over, and it was time for us to head home.   

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