With only two weeks to go before our next big adventure, John and I suggested that we do an overnight backpacking trip with his parents, as a way of preparing for our four-day, forty-mile hike through Paria Canyon. The idea was not only to help us work the "bugs" out of our packing, but to give Janice and Danny the chance to watch Mary overnight, because they would be responsible for her care while we were gone.

Unfortunately, it just didn't work out that way. Although John's parents were up for the backpacking trip, Janice and Danny were unable to watch Mary overnight, as they had a prior commitment. Since we still wanted to backpack that weekend, we decided to take Mary with us. Her weight would more than compensate for what we would be carrying in Paria Canyon anyway.

When selecting a trail for us to hike, the idea was to find something that was either ten miles long and flat, or something shorter with some elevation gain and loss. We tossed up several ideas before we finally settled on the Rim Trail #139, in the Sierra Ancha Wilderness Area. John and I had done a little bit of that trail before, in April 1999, and it seemed to be easy enough. It was 7.4 miles long, with a little bit of elevation gain, and there were several springs along the way, according to the map. Not all of them were reliable, but all we needed to find was one. Best of all, we were now able to get to the Carr Trailhead, where the Rim Trail begins. The trailhead is located off the Young Highway (SR 288), on FR 487, which is a four-wheel drive road…and now that we have Iris, our Jeep Grand Cherokee, we would be able to get there!

At 6:00 a.m. on September 8, 2001, we arrived at the Verleys' house to pick them up. We quickly loaded their backpacks into the back of our Jeep, and we were pleasantly surprised to see that all four backpacks - including the Limo - fit perfectly in the back. That saved us the trouble of having to strap one of them onto the luggage racks.

Once everything was loaded, we were ready to go, so we all piled into the Jeep and drove away. Although it was a tight fit, what with the cooler of beers and sodas that we had packed, we were still able to squeeze everyone in without any trouble. We also made sure that we stopped along the way to give everyone a chance to stretch their legs, because we knew that it was going to be a lilttle bit cramped. We stopped once at Einstein's Bagels for breakfast - as that is the tradition - and we stopped again in Claypool for a bathroom break. (In fact, we made several bathroom stops, the last one being at one of the pit toilets at the Workman's Creek campground.)

We arrived at the Carr Trailhead around 9:00 a.m. Along the way, John and I told Bill and Erika stories about our last trip to that area, when we had gotten the van stuck in a thirty inch hole while trying to avoid becoming stuck in a snow pack. We pointed out the campsite where we had found a group of young people, who came to rescue us in their Jeep, not once but twice. We then discovered that the Carr Trailhead was less than a mile past that hole - we had almost made it there that day!

Our hike began as soon as we had all of our gear together, shortly after 9:00 a.m. We started out hiking on a single track trail, through a growth of wildflowers and shrubs. Then, as the trail began to descend, a quarter of a mile later, we entered into the burned area, the devastation left behind by the Coon Creek Fire of April 2000.

I was utterly surprised to see how much damage that fire had caused. The once-beautiful Sierra Ancha forest was now littered with charred tree trunks and little to no ground cover. The trail had absolutely no shade whatsoever, as there was no canopy of trees to offer any type of cover. I had the feeling that I was entering a graveyard as I stepped along the trail, because everything around me felt of death and destruction.

As we continued downhill along the trail, the terrain became very rocky and rugged, despite the fact that the trail appeared to have been maintained recently. While we hiked, John followed along to the best of his ability, using only the topo maps that he had printed, because he had forgotten to bring his GPS. Periodically, he called out for his father to read him coordinates off of his GPS, and he tried to pinpoint our location on the map. Soon, less than a mile into the trail, he announced to us that we appeared to be lost, because the coordinates on the GPS did not match what he was seeing on the map.

"We must have missed the trail junction somewhere back there," he said, and with that, he made us turn around and begin looking for it. Naturally, I protested, stating that the route looked right to me, but he didn't listen; he was adamant that we had missed the trail junction for the Rim Trail.

After about forty minutes of speculation and hiking cross-country, trying to find the missing trail junction, I decided to drop my pack and wait until John found the right trail. At that point, I was getting very frustrated with him, and as a result, my back started to act up. Bill did the same thing, so John left the Limo (and Mary) with us while he continued to scout for the trail junction.

Eventually, he decided to scout ahead of us and take the trail that we had already hiked to see where it went. And wouldn't you know it? About a hundred feet after we had turned around was the trail junction! Had we kept hiking another two minutes, we would have found it.

So why didn't the GPS and the topo maps match up correctly? It turns out that Bill didn't have his GPS set the way that John has his set. When John printed up his topo maps, he did so according to the settings on his GPS, but having left his at home, he had to rely on his father's coordinates, which were not set the same way. Had he noticed that earlier, it would have saved us the frustration of having to backtrack.

Naturally, at that point, most of us, except Mary, were frustrated with John for making that mistake. We had wasted almost an hour looking for the trail, so we didn't even arrive at the trail junction until 10:00 a.m. That was quite discouraging to us, and I think that was one reason why we made such poor progress after that.

It was at the trail junction that we came to the beginning of the Rim Trail #139. John and explained that we had hiked about a half of a mile of this trail in order to get into the Sierra Ancha Wilderness Area, where we had played naked in April of 1999. A quarter of a mile later, we came to the wilderness boundary, where, two years ago, we had found the forest service wilderness sign broken in two. The sign was no longer there, having burned up in the fire, but I actually recognized the exact spot where I had pieced it together. Soon after that, John and I found the exact spot where we had played, and we happily pointed that out to his parents.

As we continued hiking, the conditions surrounding the trail did not improve, giving us a better idea of how widespread the fire was. In some areas, there was already regrowth, where thorny shrubs had taken over; in others, the landscape was bare, with only charred tree trunks and that fine, sooty dirty that stuck to our boots as we passed through. Then, there were some areas that had not been touched at all by the fire, where the ponderosa pine trees and the junipers were still alive, and the ground was still covered with pine needles and leaves. Those were the areas where we took our breaks, as we were happy to take advantage of the shade.

Our breaks were frequent, because the trail was not as easy as we had once believed it to be. The trail description that we had read indicated that the Rim Trail was completely flat for the entire 7.4-mile length. However, that was not entirely true. There were several, long stretches of flat trail, on which we could do between two and three miles an hour, but every now and then, we were faced with a groaner - a one or two hundred foot climb, over a quarter of a mile, that caused us to really work up a sweat. We had to stop at the top of each of these climbs to catch our breath before we could continue.

Although the Rim Trail was lacking in beauty, we were still able to enjoy the views for which this trail is famous. At some points, the trail skims along the edge of the Mogollon Rim, giving hikers lovely views of the valley below. At times, we could see some very nice rock formations that were easy to photograph, as there weren't any trees to block our view.

Another thing that was lacking on the Rim Trail was water, and that was something that worried all of us. We had only carried in one extra gallon of water, which was not going to be enough for the five of us. That meant that, if we didn't find water, we were going to have a big problem on our hands.

By the time we stopped for lunch, sometime after noon, we still had not found water. Not even John was optimistic at that point; he was beginning to believe that we were in for a dry hike, so he spent some time trying to come up with alternate plans, in case we did not find water at all. If we did find water, we would stop there and filter enough to fill all of our bladders and all of our extra water jugs, as well as Mary's tippy cups. Then, we would have enough water to go on to camp. If we did not find water, then he suggested that we camp at or near Hunt Spring, so that we would have access to the Moody Point Trail - a shortcut that would take us back to FR 487, about a mile from the Carr Trailhead. It would be quite a bit of a climb, but at least we would be closer to the Jeep, in case we had to hike out the next day with a minimal amount of water.

After lunch, we put our packs on again and kept going. At that time, the trail became much flatter, which made the hike a little bit easier; however, there were a few times that we had to do some route-finding, as the trail had become overgrown with those thorny shrubs. Some of them were over seven feet tall, and we had to fight our way past their branches, which scratched up our legs and our arms. Then, as soon as we left the worst of it, we lost the trail! (Oh, not again!) Fortunately, it didn't take us long to find it again.

Around 2:00 p.m., having hiked a little ways ahead of Bill and Erika, John and I came to a drainage that wasn't on the map, and the drainage had water in it! We were so happy and relieved to have found it that we called back to them and announced, "We found water!"

And, with that, Erika fell.

We weren't sure to what extent she was injured, but it wasn't very serious because she was able to limp the rest of the way towards the drainage. As she came into view, we could see that there was blood oozing down her left from her right knee, where she had torn open a quarter-sized flap of skin when she fell on an agave. She explained that, when John announced that he had found water, she became distracted, and that was what caused her to fall. ("That sounds familiar," I thought. I, too, have had bad falls after becoming distracted by John!

While Bill and John took turns filtering water, Erika sat down by one of the pools to clean her wound and dress it. She was in a lot of pain, and she was bleeding quite a bit; at that point, we knew that we were going to have to find camp soon, because Erika was not going to be able to go much further on that knee.

Although Bill and Erika and I were not enjoying this hike, Mary was having the time of her life - especially now that she was out of the Limo. She demonstrated how well she had learned to walk (while holding my hands, of course), and she also found a puddle of water in which she could splash around. She managed to make herself quite filthy splashing around in the water, so I took her over to a bigger pool to wash her off…and naturally, she tried to splash around in that, too!

Once we were ready, we made the decision to keep going, since there weren't any places to camp near the drainage. A half of a mile later, we found the junction for the Moody Point Trail, which would be our exit point in the morning, it was decided. It was one mile, all uphill, to the Moody Point Trail, then another mile or so to the Jeep. It would be quite a climb to get there, but at least we were confident that Erika would make it out with her wounded knee.

A short time later, we came to a dry creek and another trail junction for the Moody Point Trail. John announced that we would start looking for camp around Hunt Spring, which wasn't very far away, but we had some trouble figuring out which trail we were on at that point. Were we on the Moody Point Trail or the Rim Trail? There was only one trail leading away from the trail junction, but the sign indicated that there were two. And if we were on the Moody Point Trail, as the arrows indicated, where was the Rim Trail? John scouted ahead again, breaking through an overgrowth of thorny bushes to see if he could find it to no avail. When he returned, he suggested that we just keep hiking on the trail, in hopes of finding Hunt Spring.

Needless to say, we never did find Hunt Spring. We went another third of a mile on the trail before realizing that we were not going in the right direction. Then, we returned to the trail junction, where John took the GPS and the map to try to figure it out. As we waited for him, the rest of us dropped our packs at a campsite nearby and said, "When he comes back, let's just tell him that we should camp here."

When John returned, he agreed that we should just set up camp, because he had found another pool of water in the dry creek. We didn't camp where we had suggested, though, because John found another site across the creek, and that was where we decided to stay for the night.

After we arrived in camp, we laid our tarps out on the ground and took a moment to rest before doing anything else. We were all very tired, except for John, who claimed that he was having a great time, and Mary, who was ready to play. "This was a great hike," John said to us, but his father interjected with, "I hated this trail."

His reasons were - and Erika and I agreed with him - that the fire damage really took away from the hike. The burned trees took away not only the shade, but the beauty of the forest. John agreed that he didn't realize how widespread the damage had been, but he still found the trail very interesting, as he was able to see how much regrowth had already occurred, only a year and a half later.

Another reason was the soot. Although a year and a half had already passed, there still was not much ground cover left. In its place was that fine dirt that was mixed with the soot from the fire, and it stuck to everything with which it came into contact. In no time at all, all of us - especially Mary - were covered from head to toe with it. John called us a bunch of "neat freaks" because we were upset about a little dirt.

We spent the afternoon eating snacks and watching Mary play in the dirt and taking pictures of Erika pouring peroxide over her wound - which, I imagine, burned like mad. Then, just before dinnertime, John wandered off without telling any of us where he was going. While he was gone, we cleaned up Mary and put her into a sweat suit, because it was starting to get a little cool outside. The rest of us also cleaned up a bit, in hopes of removing at least some of the grime from our legs. Mary's baby wipes worked well at cleaning most, but not all, of the dirt.

When dinnertime rolled around, and John still had not returned from his wanderings, Bill took one of the walkie-talkie radios and went to look for him. About five minutes later, he called back to us and reported that he had found John and that they were on their way back, so we started getting ready to cook dinner. Upon their return, John explained that he had gone to look for Hunt Spring, but he still could not find it. En route, he encountered two hunters, who were looking for something big to shoot, and he also found a lean-to, constructed out of forest service signs. He said that it looked as though someone had built that to settle in for the long haul, and we laughed to think that it could have been that fugitive from Scottsdale - the one who killed and burned his family. He was believed to have been hiding in the area near Young - could John have found his haunts? Probably not, but you never know…

During dinner, the pair of hunters that John had met early hiked by us and stopped to chat with us for a minute. They had hiked in early that morning and were looking to shoot a bear, but they had had no luck. They explained that they had used the Moody Point Trail, which used to be quite steep, but after the fire, that was no longer the case. We told them that we planned to hike out that way in the morning, so we thanked them for the information as they continued on their way.

After dinner, we spent the rest of the evening trying to keep Mary from crawling into the small campfire that we had built. Then, we all decided to turn in early - even Mary fell asleep before 8:00 p.m., which was a miracle. Shortly after that, John and I got ready to go to bed. Although I was going to sleep in the tent, John suggested that I sleep outside with him, as a warm-up for Paria Canyon. We were not planning to bring a tent into the canyon with us, to reduce the weight that we would be carrying. John knew that I would not have a problem sleeping without a tent, but he thought that I should do a dry run anyway, just in case. My attempt to sleep outside failed miserably, though, when Mary woke up and became frightened when she discovered that I was not inside the tent with her. She even crawled over to the screen door and began to cry for me, so I went back inside the tent and laid down beside her until she fell asleep again. Oh, well, I thought, it was worth a try.

The next morning, we awoke at first light to a cool but lovely morning. As I sat up, I noticed that Mary had rolled to the foot of the tent and was sleeping quite comfortably there, with her face pressed up against the tent. I covered her up with the sleeping bag to provide her with some warmth during this cold part of the morning, and I went outside to start the new day.

That morning, we took our time getting moving. While we let Mary sleep in, the rest of us ate a good breakfast and drank coffee while we enjoyed the morning. Then, just as the sun began to shine through the trees, Mary woke up in a great mood. She fed herself Fruit Loops and coffee cake for breakfast while the rest of us brushed our teeth and slowly got ready to go.

Once the morning laziness wore off, we packed up our gear and prepared for our hike out. Since Erika's knee was a little stiff, we unanimously decided to hike the Moody Point Trail to take us back to FR 487 - it was just the most logical thing to do. John didn't seem to mind, either, because, as he said, he prefers to do loop hikes anyway - this would give him another trail to add to our web site.

We left camp around 8:30 a.m. and began the long, climb out on the Moody Point Trail. The trail, which also goes through the devastation of the Coon Creek Fire, is one mile long and follows a long series of switchbacks all the way up to FR 487, where it ends at the Moody Point Trailhead. It climbs about four hundred feet in that distance, and most of that elevation gain is at the bottom portion of the trail, where it is much steeper. At we reached the top, though, it did begin to flatten out.

That hike took us about an hour to complete, including the breaks we took to catch our breath. Soon, around 9:30 a.m., we reached the trailhead, where there was a wilderness sign but no other signs indicating the start of the trail. Across the road, there was a field and a house, at which there was a pick-up truck and a travel trailer parked - we had seen that house there during our first drive up Aztec Peak, in November 1998, and I was surprised to see that it had survived the fire.

We dropped our packs at the trailhead while John and Bill went to get the Jeep, which was less than a mile away. It didn't take them long to get there, and when they did, they radioed back to us that they were going to drink all of the beer first. "Comedian in every crowd," I called back to them.

Minutes later, they arrived in the Jeep, so we loaded all of our gear into the back and got inside. That was when John suggested that we take a drive up to the top of Aztec Peak, since we had all morning to kill. There was a look-out tower there, where we could take pictures of the scenery; and, if there was a forest ranger on duty, we could talk to him, too.

We were fortunate to find that there was indeed a forest ranger on duty, and he invited us into the watchtower to look around. We told him that we had just spent the night in the Sierra Ancha Wilderness, on the Rim Trail, but we had not realized just how extensive the damage until we started hiking into it. It wasn't until we had climbed up there that we could see just how much of the forest had been destroyed in the fire. That gave us a clearer understanding of what 10,000 acres looked like.

The views from the tower were incredible. The forest ranger explained to us that, on a clear day, he can actually see into New Mexico from there - that must be very interesting to see! On that day, though, we could see to Lake Roosevelt, as well as Four Peaks and the Superstitions.

After our educational visit to the forest ranger, we thanked him for his time and left him to his work so that we could go explore other places. We still had most of the morning to kill, and there were four-wheel drive roads that we had yet to explore.

One of the roads that we wanted to explore was the road to McFadden Ranch, at which there was a trailhead. We drove all the way to the trailhead and found that someone was already parked there. We also found McFadden Ranch, where there were many No Trespassing signs posted to keep people off of the property. The ranch was very beautiful; my only regret is that we didn't stop long enough to take pictures.

Once back on FR 487, we started down the road towards the Workman Creek Recreational Area. That was when we really put the Jeep to the test. John put it into low-gear and let it tractor its way down the mountainous road; it handled the road very well, and we were happy. How nice it was to have a four-wheel drive, so that we could finally do things like that!

Going home, we took the scenic route. Instead of waiting until we got home to take a shower, we went to Lake Roosevelt instead to go swimming - or, more specifically, to take a bath. After all, the water there was so warm that it was like bath water - it felt wonderful! Then, once we were all clean, we got back into the Jeep and drove to Pumpkin Center for lunch.

We arrived at home early in the afternoon, and we spent the rest of the day unpacking and washing our dirty laundry - everything was covered with that fine dust and soot, and I didn't think it would ever come clean!

And thus ended another adventurous weekend...

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