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| The grounds at the Lowell Observatory |
June 18 – Ah, a day off. But it turned
out be more exhausting in many ways than a day hiking. I spent the day with Don
Lago, the man I met on the Bear Jaw/Abineau hike. I learned a whole lot about
Flagstaff, and we had an enjoyable day. He is an historian, so his knowledge
about the town, its inhabitants, and its history is extensive.
We met for
breakfast at the Weatherford Hotel. It is a beautiful old building on a busy
corner of Flagstaff’s historic downtown. The hotel began as the Weatherford
family home, and after some additions, became a hotel. It still is a popular
hotel with a ballroom for parties and a nice restaurant. Legend has it that
Zane Gray stayed there often, and during one of his stays, wrote one of his
novels.
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| Complimentary dessert |
The food
was good – I was finally able to indulge in a good plate of Huervos Rancheros,
one of my favorite breakfast dishes – and Don explained a lot about the man
Weatherford, who was an ill-directed entrepreneur of his time. One of his
biggest follies was to attempt to replicate the toll road at Pike’s Peak in the
San Francisco Peaks outside Flagstaff. Unaware of the differences between the
granite of the Rockies and the igneous rock that comprise the Peaks, he built a
road up a mountain that shifts and moves with each season. He also hired a
designer who confused the degrees and percentages of road grade, and the state
wouldn’t approve the road because of its design. I learned that when I hiked
the Weatherford trail the next day, I’d be hiking on parts of that old toll
road.
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| Each rock represents a geological layer |
After
breakfast, we walked around the town and he pointed out other historic
buildings and introduced me to some of the local merchants. The more I saw of
Flagstaff, the better I liked it, and I became more and more convinced that I
wanted to come back, perhaps to stay. One of the things Don is well versed in
is Hopi, Zuni, and Navajo traditions. These are the three prevalent tribes in
the area, and I found myself intrigued with Hopi culture especially. I ended up
returning to one of my favorite stores there and purchased my first Kachina
doll. The local artists who carve and paint these dolls are brilliant, and
choosing which doll I ended up with was difficult.
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| Meteorite on display at Lowell Observatory |
After
exploring downtown, we went out to Lowell Observatory. The story of the
observatory is quite interesting – Lowell was not an astronomer, but was
intrigued with the planets and the sky. He built the observatory and is now
entombed there. The observatory is most famous for discovering Pluto, what was
the ninth planet for a number of years before recently being reclassified as a
dwarf planet. Clearly, when I asked about it, it was clear that Don and many
fellow Flagstaffians are a bit touchy about that reclassification. It is only
briefly footnoted in the information at the observatory. We were able to look
through a sun telescope – the proper name escapes me – and I could see sunspots
and gaseous, flame-like eruptions around the perimeter of our star. It was
stunning. And an added bonus was the recently installed exhibit from the Hubble
Telescope. A traveling exhibition, it’s just arrived at the observatory for the
next few months. Amazing photographs taken from space give a person a whole
different perspective of this universe we inhabit.
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| Telescope used to discover Pluto |
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| I love this quote posted in the museum |
Our final
stop for the day was the Museum of Northern Arizona. The exhibits there,
besides a fine display of artists’ renditions of the Colorado Plateau, include
extensive exhibits showcasing the area tribes’ culture, history, and artwork.
Again, I was especially drawn to the Hopi culture, and most taken with their
artisanship. I was grateful for the experiences I’ve had traveling – some of
the displays talked of ruins I’ve seen both this summer (at Waputki National
Monument) and other years I’ve traveled (Mesa Verde in the southwest corner of
Colorado), and I had images of the actual places as I read about them on the
museum walls. I’m eager to read more about these cultures and want to explore
further the entire Colorado Plateau.
I finally
returned to my campsite after a dinner at a local Thai restaurant with Don, and
found myself rather exhausted from our prolonged conversation and the
information and images I’d taken in. I do know, from my years of exploring with
Jesse, that I prefer to take in and absorb these experiences silently and
independently, waiting to discuss what I’ve experienced later. I also realize
I’m becoming more and more accustomed to being alone, and enjoying the intimacy
that aloneness brings. Not that I didn’t enjoy Don, but I was quite ready to be
alone again.
June 19 – Today was a big hike. I knew
the Weatherford trail offered the opportunity of my longest one-day hike to
date, and I intended to do just that.
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| More downed trees - had to crawl under one |
I began the
day early, but, of course, not as early as I’d hoped. It was almost 9:30 when I
finally hit the trail, and I hoped to hike the six miles up to Doyle Saddle, a
hike that was all uphill, making the round trip 12 miles. For most of the hike
the grade was not too steep, but it was continuous. Just a few miles in, I
realized one of my heels was beginning to hurt. I had a little hot spot there
from the previous hike, but no blister. By three miles of uphill hiking, I knew
that hot spot had become a blister.
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| Really glad I made it |
I stopped
and covered the blister with a Band-Aid, and continued my hike. Coming down the
trail toward me was another hiker. After chatting for a few minutes, I learned
he was a hiker bum – going from one part of the country to another, hiking and
camping the whole time. He told me that the saddle was farther than the signs
read, and that it was closer to a seven-mile hike. I hoped he was wrong, and
hoped my blister wouldn’t get any worse, and I continued on. The trail was
rather rocky in places, and rocky trails are always a little harder to hike as
the foot turns this way and that, adjusting not only to the general incline of
the trail but also the tilt and pitch of each rock it encounters.
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| Lunch at the top |
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| Tourist bus fail |
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| At the top - now back down |
When I’d
hiked about six miles or so, I ran into a couple coming down the mountain. This
was about 1:30, and I was getting concerned about getting back before dusk – it
gets dark early here in Arizona, and even earlier in the mountains with their
looming shapes to block the sun. My pace for the day was slow, and I knew I had
a lot of miles to cover on the return trip. The couple said I had about another
30 or 40 minutes to get to the top, but I needed to keep going – it was a view
I didn’t want to miss after climbing all that way. I appreciated their
encouragement and decided to finish. I didn’t appreciate that the man kept
talking to me about his hiking experiences, and I was still concerned about the
time. After finally pulling away from him, I climbed the last half mile or so,
and reached the summit.
He was
informative on one front – he said to look for an old tourist bus that had
apparently tried to make a turn that was too sharp all those years ago when the
trail was a road. I spotted it, overturned and rusted out but still a bright
yellow, nestled against a tree that had fortunately broken its fall.
The view at
the summit, at about 6.9 miles, was spectacular. The San Francisco Peaks are
what’s left of a large volcano that apparently blew out one side centuries ago.
At Doyle Saddle, you can see into what was once the crater of that volcano.
I could see the backside of Humphreys again,
from a little different angle, and I wondered how I could possibly climb that
high. But one hike at a time.
After a
quick lunch, I was headed back down. It was 3 p.m. by the time I was actually
on the move. The hike seemed shorter, and was all downhill, but I didn’t make
as good a time as I’d hoped. I still was only averaging two miles an hour. And
the last mile or so was pretty difficult. I stumbled a number of times,
dragging my toes instead of lifting them occasionally. My blister was giving me
a little trouble too, and I was exhausted. It was an important lesson to learn
– how different my body behaves after a lot of miles.
At the car
my GPS read 13.9 miles, my personal longest hike. I could barely lift my feet
to take off my boots, and I was sore the rest of the night. But it felt so
great to put that many miles on in a day. I know there are days on the JMT
where I’ll hike that and longer, and I needed to know my body could take it.
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| For my friends who played the Oregon Trail |
July 20 – Worried how I would feel this
morning, I woke up and tested out my body and my feet. I was amazed how good I
felt. My foot was a little tender from the blister, but other than that, I felt
strong. I knew the day would be an easy one – I planned to do a little shopping
around Flagstaff and pick up some things for the kids. I did that, strolling
around the downtown and enjoying the perfect weather and friendly people.
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| Quote on the restroom wall |
There are
so many things in Flagstaff I want to explore further. The town is such an
interesting mix of people and cultures. The Native cultures are strongly
represented in artwork and spirituality, the historical aspect as a railroad
town is strong, and the geological presence of the Colorado Plateau, including
the Peaks, the Grand Canyon, and the nearby desert, is everywhere. It will take
years to really know the town, and I hope to have those years to do that.
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| Ready for the climb |
July 21 – Roots and rocks – that’s how
I would describe the hike on Mt. Humphreys. I began the morning treating my
blister with moleskin and a Band-Aid. My other heel was a little tender, but
didn’t have an actual blister on it, so I thought it would be fine. Another
teachable moment. By a mile and a half of continuous uphill hiking, that tender
spot was a blister. I sat and doctored it up too, and continued up the steepest
and highest hike I’ve attempted to date.
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| It starts out innocent enough |
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| Roots . . . |
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| . . . and rocks |
Mt.
Humphreys is the highest peak in the San Francisco Peaks and the highest point
in Arizona at just more than 12,600 feet. I hoped to summit the mountain, and
set out to do that. I was at the trailhead by 8:30 a.m. and was ready to make
my attempt. The forecast, unfortunately, had changed in the last day, and it
was predicted to be windy in Flagstaff. And if it’s windy in Flagstaff, it’s
even windier on Mt. Humphreys I was told. I had hiked Kendrick in really strong
winds, so I felt able to take on the challenge.
Because I
knew it was very steep - gaining 3500 feet in elevation in about 4.8 miles -
and because I knew I would be hiking higher than I’d ever hiked – my highest elevation
to date was about 10,800 feet – I was anxious but excited. I felt ready to test
myself. And the hike wasn’t as bad as
I’d feared. Yes it climbed steeply mile after mile, and yes, the ground was
covered with rocks or exposed roots almost the entire distance, but I enjoyed
the views and the exertion.
I realized
after a few miles that some people intended not to summit but to reach the
saddle at about 3.8 miles. I learned that the last mile to the peak, which I
began to see people navigating as I neared the saddle, was mostly climbing over
rocks and was known to be very windy, even when it wasn’t a windy day. It never
occurred to me, until I was closing in on the saddle, that I wouldn’t summit
the peak. But I didn’t know what it was like till I got up there.
When I made
it to the saddle, I was overcome with the beauty of the place. It looked to the
south out over Flagstaff and the plateaus and buttes below, and to the north
over the inner basin of the Peaks. That inner basin was green and lush, and
still spotted banks of snow in low-lying places. And it was windy. The wind
howled around the lot of us that had reached it, forcing extra care as we ate
our celebratory lunches. There was a guy donning a full-body gorilla
- or maybe Sasquatch – bodysuit to summit.
There was a group of women who came down from the summit, windblown and bright
with accomplishment. There were those who had no intention of summitting, and
those who were resting and preparing for the last brutal mile.
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| At 11,400 feet. Climbed another 400 |
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| The peak |
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| The inner basin to the north |
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| To the north |
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| The view to the south |
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| Sasquatch! |
I hated to
not try, so I began up the trail, if you could call it that. I climbed over one
boulder and then another, and the wind pulled at me with every step and reach.
One man coming down, who had summitted many times before, said it was extremely
windy, maybe with gusts up to 70 m.p.h. Another woman described that as she
reached her foot out to find a place to set it, the wind would push it away
from its intended landing spot. After a short distance, I realized I had real
potential to get injured in this last push. And with the John Muir Trail only a
week away, a turned ankle could do what my injured foot did last year – prevent
me from making that hike. I weighed my options, there on the side of that
mountain, and decided that reaching the saddle at 11,800 feet and doing so
without a lot of stress or hardship, was a real success. And I wanted to be
ready for the JMT.
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| This guy and his old dog |
So I began
the downward hike. The roots and rocks seemed a little more frequent and higher
as I made my way down, and I stumbled and fell once, but I know that the
perception and the fall were due to fatigue. I didn’t feel fatigued, but my
body just wasn’t as fresh as it had been going up. I also wonder if hiking downhill
leads to less lift in the step, as any time I’ve fallen or tripped I was going
down. All things to note for further hikes.
I met some
interesting people on the way down. I talked to a couple who had hiked the JMT
a few years ago, and they had some good suggestions for side hikes and
strategy, and I talked to a young woman in her 30s who drove up from Phoenix
that morning just for the hike. She was from Minnesota originally and said
coming up to Flagstaff helped when she got homesick for green and tall trees.
She hiked regularly, and had hiked the Grand Canyon rim-to-rim-to-rim all in
one day, beginning at midnight. That is a 48 mile hike. These people are
amazing.
I felt a
little disappointed that I didn’t summit, but I know I’ll be back and do it
another day. This was my last hike in Flagstaff and my last hike until I begin
the JMT, and I felt good having accomplished what I did. And it was probably a
good thing I stopped – my little blisters had turned into large, quarter-sized
open sores by the time I took my boots off. The moleskin was bunched up above
the sores, and they were oozing.
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| Happy to see the meadow just before the parking lot |
I stopped
in at REI to exchange my stove, and when I did, I asked about the blisters.
I’ve been so happy with my boots, hiking 50 miles before having any problems
with them, and I didn’t want to give them up. The guy working in the boot area
was wonderful. He sat me down and showed me a way to tie my boots so they
wouldn’t ride up on my heel when I went uphill. I feel confident this will
work, and I also have the advice to cover my heels with duct tape if they start
to get tender at all, and that way if the boot slips, it slips over the tape,
not pulling at my skin.
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| Nasty blisters |
After a
late dinner, I went back to my campground for the last night there. Thanks to
William Shatner and Priceline, I had made affordable reservations at the
Courtyard Marriott the next night for my last night in Flagstaff. After 14
nights at that lovely campground just outside Flagstaff, I was ready for a bed,
a long shower, and a real toilet.
