December 16, 2001

"Below Freezing"

On November 30, John and I went to Los Angeles, CA, to pay a visit to my father, so that he could spend some time with his granddaughter. While we were there, we went to Universal Studios and to Lake Elsinore, where John made one skydive on a slower-than-average day at the drop zone there. We returned to Phoenix on December 3, in front of the first winter storm of the season. The storm came in from the Pacific and brought with it cold temperatures, as well as rain in the Valley and snow above 4,000 feet. Then, as soon as that front moved out of the state, another one came in days later, dumping more snow in the high country and more rain on us. There was even one day where the high temperature in Phoenix was only 48°! Now, I'm a wimp when it comes to cold temperatures. When it gets below 80° outside, I start pulling out my sweaters. However, there is something about Flagstaff in winter, with lots of snow on the ground, that draws me there like a bear to honey. So, when John suggested that we spend Sunday afternoon, December 16, playing in the snow, I smiled and said, "Yes! Let's go!" So, on Sunday morning, the three of us - John and Mary and I - bundled up in our winter clothes and drove to Flagstaff to play in the snow. We took our toboggan with us, so that we could take Mary sledding for the first time. On the way, of course, we stopped at Einstein's Bagels for breakfast before we left town. The drive to Flagstaff proved to be very interesting. The latest winter storm has passed through Arizona on Friday evening, leaving a new dusting of snow in the northern portion of the state - and some of that snow was still on the ground, even as low as 4,000 feet. As we arrived at the Sunset Point Rest Area, about twenty miles south of Camp Verde, we spotted the first signs of the snow that had fallen there two days before. The higher we went, the more snow we saw along the highway. It also got colder and colder outside the further we went. When we left Phoenix that morning, it was 35° outside, according to the temperature gage in our Jeep. At Sunset Point, it was 32°F, which was the freezing point. By the time we reached Flagstaff, where the ground was covered with a thick layer of snow, the temperature was at 23°F - it was COLD! In order the find the best places to play in the snow, we drove north on US 180 towards Snowbowl. We weren't planning to go up to the ski resort or to the trailheads, but we knew that there was an information kiosk located at the turn-off. They were bound to have fliers indicating where the snow play areas were around there. These areas would have plenty of sledding hills and places where we could build a snowman or hurl snowballs at each other. When we arrived at the kiosk (which was aptly signed "Snow Play Information"), there was another truck parked there. Its driver had just retrieved a couple of fliers and was kind enough to share one with us. The flier contained a map of the snow play areas in the region, the closest of which was the Wing Mountain Cross-Country Ski Trail, located about five miles north of the Snowbowl turnoff. We decided that that was where we wanted to go, so we pulled out of the parking area and returned to US 180. From there, we drove north on the highway until we came to FR 222B, an all-weather dirt road that had been well-plowed; at that point, it was another mile after that to the trailhead and snow play area. We parked the Jeep in the parking lot, next to the Wing Mountain Trailhead. Moments later, the man we had met at the kiosk parked next to us - he was there to take his two children sledding. We watched as he pulled two round toboggans and two very young children - a boy and a girl - out of his truck. Shouting with excitement, the two kids followed their father to the sledding hill. The scene left us smiling, as it gave us a preview of things that we could look forward to in the not-so-distant future. Upon our arrival, we bundled up in our winter wear and prepared to go sledding. Clad in long underwear, sweats, and hiking boots, as well as her hat, jacket and mittens, Mary looked like Nanook of the North. Once she was ready, John said to me, "Get the camera ready." And with that, we put her in the snow. Her initial reaction was one of uncertainty, as she tried to figure out what all that cold, white stuff was. Even though this was neither her first nor her second encounter with snow, it was still new to her, because she had only been four months old when she had last seen it. Back then, she wasn't completely aware of what was going on around her. Now, as a sixteen month-old toddler, she was tuned in to her surroundings and was curious about everything that was going on. With a furrowed brow, she studied the snow for a few seconds and pointed at it with the intention of touching it, but at that point, the snow fell into her diapers, and she began to cry. Now how would you feel if you got snow in your diaper? We picked her up out of the snow and put her into the sled, where she sat and giggled while John pulled her along towards the sledding hill…that is, until she tipped over into the snow and lost a mitten! She wasn't too happy about that either. We retrieved the white mitten out of the white snow (no, it wasn't easy to find) and put it back on her hand, but by that time, her little fingers were already frozen, and the mitten was wet. That, too, was uncomfortable for her, so she cried. However, once the sled was righted again and John began pulling her along once more, she was happy. Once they reached the sledding hill, John climbed into the sled with Mary, and the two of them slid downhill. Over the sound of John shouting "Whee!", I could hear Mary laughing her head off - she loved it! So they went again. That time, the sled plowed a lot of snow, so by the time they reached the bottom of the hill, the sled was filled with snow. Mary did not like that, so she cried. By the time they finished their fourth trip down the hill, we could tell that Mary was ready to go back to the Jeep. Her little eyes were filled with tears, and she was too cold to be having fun. Instead of carrying her back to the parking area, though, John pulled her along in the sled, which she loved…as long as we kept the snow out of the sled. As he towed her along through the snow, she giggled and laughed like it was the best thing in the world. Upon returning to the Jeep, we turned on the heater and put Mary inside to warm up. Then, we looked at our watches and discussed what to do next. It was lunchtime, so we decided to drive back into Flagstaff to eat lunch at Buster's. On the way, though, John felt a need to take the Jeep onto a less-maintained road, just to try driving it in the snow. He found a side road that had not been properly plowed and drove it until it came to the gate of someone's property. Then, he returned us to the highway. After a delicious lunch at Buster's (where Mary discovered that French fries taste better dipped in ketchup), it was time to start driving home. Instead of taking I-17 back to Phoenix, though, John suggested that we take the more scenic route: SR 89A, through Oak Creek Canyon. Having made that trip once before, I knew that it was very beautiful, so I agreed. Along the way, we stopped at the Oak Creek Canyon Overlook, where we parked the Jeep and got out to take a look at the canyon, under a fresh blanket of snow. Instead of taking the stroller, though, we put Mary back in the sled and towed her behind us, much to her enjoyment and to the amusement of the tourists. One elderly couple was so amused by our little girl, riding so contently in her sled, that they stopped to take a picture of her. Many others stepped aside to let her pass, and as they did so, they smiled and waved at her. We took a short walk along the edge of the canyon, down the paved trail, and stopped at several of the vista points to take a look into Oak Creek Canyon. Now, Oak Creek Canyon is very scenic; thousands upon thousands of tourists from all over the world are drawn every year to the red rocks that form the canyon and the monoliths surrounding the city of Sedona. The images have been captured by many a photographer and have been displayed in many calendars and magazines. Its beauty has made it one of the most popular places to visit in Arizona. To see those same red rocks covered with fresh, pure white snow, with snowflakes still clinging to the pine trees…it was beyond stunning. It was truly a winter wonderland. And that was only the beginning of it. Upon leaving the overlook, we began our descent into Oak Creek Canyon, along SR 89A and found ourselves in a place that was almost magical. As we descended deeper and deeper into the canyon, we passed through areas that were covered under a thick blanket of snow. Little flurries were falling from the pine trees, making it seem like it was snowing, and with the sunlight blocked by the walls of the canyon, it almost appeared to be snowing. I was awestruck by the beauty and kept saying, "Wow, this is fantastic!" Of course, John replied, "I try to take you to pretty places!" As we approached Sedona and the Village of Oak Creek, the snow began to dissipate until there were very few patches left on the red rocks. By the time we reached I-17, there was very little snow left on the ground. Since it was still early in the day, John decided that we had time for one more adventure. He drove south on I-17 for a couple of miles, without telling me where we were going until he took the exit for Montezuma's Well. Then, it was obvious that we were going to visit Montezuma's Well National Monument. John stated that he had visited Montezuma's Well several years ago, but as I had not, he thought it would be a nice place to show me. He was right. Montezuma's Well National Monument is located about four miles north of Camp Verde, along Wet Beaver Creek. From the visitor's center, there is a paved loop trail that is a third of a mile long and takes visitors to all of the points of interest in the monument. Going clockwise, the first stop is the well itself; the trail stops at an overlook, where we could see the ruins of the cliff dwellings that were built into the walls above the well. From the overlook, there are stairs leading down to the well. While John waited at the top with Mary, I climbed down the stairs to have a look. It was very peaceful and beautiful down in the well. As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I came upon another set of cliff dwellings; these were built on level with the well and were probably used by the Sinagua Indians during the winter months, as they would have provided them with the most protection from the elements. As I made my way into the well, I could hear music: the eerie strains of Native American music, played on a flute-type instrument, probably a recorder. I looked around to find the source of the music, thinking that it was some sort of loud speaker piping in music to add to the ambiance of the well. As I drew closer to the bottom, though, I began to realize that the music was in fact live, provided by some hidden musician. It took me a while, but I finally spotted the mysterious musician, hidden among the trees, belting out the tunes of his forefathers in the very place where they once lived. I did not see a coin-collecting hat next to him, which led me to believe that he was not there for profit; rather, he was probably there to pay tribute to his ancestors. I did not linger in the well for very long, because I knew that John and Mary were waiting for me at the top. Once I had taken my pictures and listened to the music, I climbed the stairs once again and made my way back to the top of the well. After rejoining my group, we continued along the footpath towards the next point of interest: Wet Beaver Creek. There was another set of stairs leading down to Wet Beaver Creek, into which the well empties via aqueduct. The creek was surrounded by a canopy of sycamore trees, most of which had already lost their golden and orange colored leaves. The banks of the creek were covered with the autumn leaves that had already fallen. It all looked so peaceful and pretty that I decided to make the trip down the stairs to see it up close. Again, John decided to wait with Mary at the top of the stairs…but he followed anyway, a few minutes later, after I called up to him to tell him how nice it was down there. We walked along the pathway that paralleled the aqueduct until we came to the "hole", from which the well water drains into the creek. At the end of the trail, we set Mary down on the ground to let her crawl around - of course, we had to keep a constant eye on her to make sure that she did not fall into the aqueduct when she dipped her hand into the water out of curiosity. Soon, it was time for us to leave, so we climbed the stairs back to the top - Mary climbed the last three stairs on her own, much to our delight. There, we rejoined the paved trail, which took us back to the Jeep. Now it was getting late in the day, so we climbed inside and immediately drove away. We arrived at home around 5:30 in the evening, with Mary asleep in the car seat, exhausted from the fun that she had had that day. The day's adventure was over.

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