Verde River Headwaters

Chris Jensen, a member of our hiking group and an avid river advocate, had suggested a hike to the headwaters of the Verde River. Chris, who had been there before, agreed to lead us on the trip and it was scheduled for 15 November 2014. We left Cottonwood under lightly overcast skies, but with the hope that they would clear later in the morning.

We traveled to Paulden in two groups, one taking Hwy 89A to Prescott and then traveling north on US 89 to Paulden while the other took the dirt road that leads through the Perkinsville area. We planned to meet at Depot 89, a convenience store just south of Paulden. The group traveling on the dirt roads took considerably longer to make the trip, but claimed the scenic views along the way well compensated for the additional time.

Those of us who arrived first spent the time people watching while we waited for the scenic view group to arrive. A flea market was in full operation in the spacious Depot 89 parking lot and a truly odd assortment of individuals were hanging out there, some selling products, just some browsing. The most noteworthy of these was an elderly man with a white beard wearing a tan slicker and a large western style hat, generally the sort of attire that might have been purloined from the wardrobe of an old John Wayne movie set. On closer inspection, however, the western look was utterly destroyed by bare legs protruding from a grimy pair of shorts and ending in dirty sneakers.

While we were observing the goings on at the flea market, a large black pickup roared into the parking lot and parked in the spot next to where we were standing. Curious as to what sort of person might be driving it we watched as a young boy, who just might have been old enough for a learners permit, scooted down from the driver's seat and strutted into the store. He returned barely five minutes later and, seeing us still standing there, probably assumed that we had spent the time enviously admiring his truck.

Apparently pleased with the attention and thinking it would be ungracious to just ignore such an audience, he paused to warn us about the dangers of picking up hitchhikers. By way of illustration, launching into a story about his father. It seemed that, one night on a dark and lonely stretch of road, his father had, against his better judgment, stopped to pick up a forlorn-looking hitchhiker. Then, just a few minutes later, his car broke down and could not be restarted. Upon seeing the hopelessness of the situation, the hitchhiker observed, “This is your lucky day.”

“What do you mean, lucky? I am stranded here in the middle of nowhere.”

“yes, but you are still alive. Until your car broke down, I was planning on shooting you and taking it,” responded the hitchhiker as he walked off into the darkness.

The kid then climbed back into the cab of his oversize pickup and roared out of the lot in what would have been a cloud of dust had it not recently rained.

After the late arrivals from our hiking group had availed themselves of the bathroom facilities and fortified themselves with snacks, we climbed back into our vehicles, crossed the highway, turned south on old Hwy 89 and continued for about 0.1 mile. We then turned left onto Sweet Valley Road, which runs through State Trust land, and drove for 1.1 miles before turning right on a dirt road that ended 1.2 miles ahead on the east side of a wash that drains into the Verde River Canyon.

I had originally thought the upper reaches of the Verde would flow down Hells Canyon. I later learned that this section of the canyon drained the Big Chino and Williamson Valley Washes and that the Verde River originates in this area, between Sullivan Lake and Stillman Lake. Hells Canyon, on the other hand, starts around 25 miles north, as the crow flies, flows to the southwest for several miles, turns south above Drake and then to the southeast to feed into the Verde River Canyon about 17 river miles downstream from where we now stood.

We donned our packs and posed for a group photograph before beginning the hike.

Left to right: Miriam Sterling, Connie Woolard, Teal Sullivan, Chris Jensen, Gary Jacobson, Ruth Frazier, Betty Wolters, Lila Wright, Anita Jackson, Daisy Williams, Dave Beach, Bill Woolard, the author, Mark Purcell, Jim Manning and Bob Coates – photograph by Name Withheld

We needed to hike west to find a descent into the canyon and, as noted above, we were parked on the east side of a wash. That, of course, meant that we would have to find a way across the wash. That turned out to be relatively easy, although it was a fairly steep climb down into the wash and back up the other side. Once we were on the west side of the wash we found a fairly well-defined trail to follow. The trail soon enough led us close to the canyon rim and we had a good view to the bottom of the canyon and across to the rim on the other side as well as downstream.

Below us we could see a faint trail tracing its way along the canyon floor from where we would descend. This is the point where the Verde River originates. We could see the upper reach of what Chris explained was Stillman Lake, near the tree showing rich yellow fall colors near the center of the below photograph. A large rock, which we later learned carried some intricate Indian drawings along with some latter-day graffiti, can be seen in the extreme lower right quadrant. Stillman Lake is shown extending downstream at the left side of the photograph, and Little Thumb Butte is visible on the horizon in the upper left quadrant. Meanwhile, across the canyon on the opposite rim, in the right upper quadrant, are several buildings, listed on my, admittedly ancient, map as Morgan Ranch Headquarters.

Our first view down into the Verde River Canyon at the headwaters

Chris told us that the river once extended upstream to originate at Sullivan Lake and an article posted on the National Wild and Scenic Rivers System website still says that it “heads at Sullivan Lake in the Big Chino Valley¹.” In contrast, agreeing with Chris, the Arizona Department of Water Resources, on its website says, “The Verde River originates in a steep-walled volcanic rock canyon near Paulden below Sullivan Lake Dam (now almost entirely filled with sediment). Springs feed the headwaters near the upper end of Stillman Lake²”.

As can be implied from these opinions about the origin (or head) of the Verde, there are various definitions as to what constitutes the source of a stream. For instance, the source of the Colorado can be said to be at the Continental Divide.

Not overly interested in such exotica at the time, we just continued on our way west along the rim of the canyon looking for a way to descend to the floor below. For us the first water we could see was a good enough definition for headwaters of the Verde. The descent turned out to be 0.5 miles from where we had parked. It is well marked and actually has a gate in an iron-rail fence. The photograph (right) shows a hiker approaching the open gate.

It is actually possible to descend the canyon wall at this point by several different routes, but if one just looks for it there is a fairly well-defined track, following what is likely the easiest course available.

Volcanism along with subsequent erosion and earth movement have left some interesting rock exposed. The photograph (left) is but one of several seen on the way down.

When we arrived at the canyon floor the hiking became much easier, but before proceeding we stopped for our midmorning snack. We had after all been on the road and hiking for the better part of two hours now. Upon finishing our break, I again hiked behind the rest of the group because we had found some Indian paintings on the large rock that had been visible from the rim and I wanted to examine and photograph them. The left half of the rock, as shown below, was covered with intricate Indian drawings while the right half was devoted to graffiti of a more recent era.

Indian drawings on a large rock at the Verde River Canyon headwaters

A little farther on was a smaller rock (right) also inscribed with drawings.

We saw several other interesting drawings along the way and I photographed a number of them as shown on the following page.

Four examples of Indian drawings, thankfully without graffiti, are shown below. Because I am not sure what any of these drawings represent, I present them without comment.

Drawings at Verde River headwaters

Drawings at Verde River headwaters

Drawings at Verde River headwaters

Drawings at Verde River headwaters

Still bring-ing up the rear, I noted a sudden disturbance among the main group of hikers ahead and hurried to catch up. It turned out that, while examining drawings, located too high to see well from below, a hiker's foot had slipped into a crevice and he had fallen sideways. It appeared that his ankle was broken. Carrying him out was out of the question, both because of the difficulty of climbing the steep cliff and because of the danger of further injury, so we called Search and Rescue.

Although we provided GPS coordinates, we decided that someone should return to the road where we were parked to guide the rescue party to the site. That way we could get them quickly to the injured hiker without their losing time searching for a way down the cliff. Jim Manning volunteered for the job and, along with another hiker, I accompanied him. The third hiker, perhaps a little too anxious to make sure he arrived at the road in time to meet the rescuers when they arrived, sprinted up the final few yards to the top of the cliff and promptly set out in the wrong direction on the trail that runs along the rim. By the time Jim and I emerged at the top, he was nowhere in sight. We now had a missing hiker as well as an injured one.

Unable to determine where the missing member of our party had gone, Jim and I proceeded toward the road where we expected to meet the rescue party. We both continued far enough that we could see the trail all the way to the road and thus make certain that our lost hiker had not gone in that direction. I then waited there in case he realized his mistake and returned; Jim continued on to the road to meet the rescue squad, which had now arrived, and give them directions. I waited where I was until a member of the squad reached me and accompanied him to the descent point from where the hikers below were visible. From there he continued on his own.

I stayed on the rim near the descent, still hoping our missing man discovered his error and returned that way. Except for the gash cut by the canyon, the terrain was relatively flat and open, so surely he would eventually find his way to a road. If nothing else, Highway 89 was only about a mile west along the canyon rim. Also, this was a good vantage point from which I could see what was going on below.

When the rescue squad member who had proceeded into the canyon had completed his assessment of the injured party and the problems associated with carrying him out, he called for a helicopter. Although the terrain might not be favorable for a carry-out rescue, there was a good spot for a helicopter landing on the open, flat canyon floor.

When the helicopter arrived, it landed alongside the trail, about 150 yards from the injured hiker.

Rescue helicopter on the canyon floor as seen from the rim

Having decided that, after all this time, it was very unlikely that our lost hiker would return this way, I left as soon as the helicopter lifted off and made my way to join Jim. Fortunately, by the time I arrived so had the missing hiker and, soon after, the remaining hikers returned from the canyon. Except for the injured hiker now on his way to the hospital with what was determined to be a broken ankle, we were finally all accounted present.

Although Chris did lead some of the hikers about another mile down the river, the round trip distance recorded by my GPS for this hike was 1.8 miles, the maximum elevation was 4512 feet and the total ascent was 254 feet.

The GPS track for the hike is shown in Figure 1 on the included map (next page) in red. The blue track shows the route from Depot 89 to the trailhead. Figure 2 on the map page shows close-up details of the hike area.

Figure 1 – Route from US 89

Figure 2 – Hike area details

1http://www.rivers.gov/rivers/verde.php

2 http://www.azwater.gov/AzDWR/StatewidePlanning/WaterAtlas/CentralHigh

lands/PlanningAreaOverview/SurfaceWaterSaltVerdeWatersheds.htm

Cibola-Brins Mesa-Soldier Pass Loop

 

We made a loop hike in the Sedona area on 8 November 2014 by starting at the Soldier Pass Trailhead, turning onto Jordan Trail at the Devils Kitchen, taking the Cibola Pass Trail to connect with Brins Mesa Trail, which we followed to Brins Mesa, and then returning on Soldier Pass Trail.

To get to the trailhead we drove north on Soldier Pass Road in Sedona for 1.5 miles, turned right on Rim Shadows Dr. and continued for 0.2 miles to the Soldier Pass Trailhead. There is a small parking lot at the trailhead that tends to fill up fast but usually has space available before 0900. An informational sign (right) is posted at the trailhead.

From the trailhead at the parking lot it is about 0.2 miles across Soldier Wash to Devils Kitchen sinkhole (left). Reference to a map at this point discloses that we are at the beginning of a finger of National Forest land that extends into the Red Rock Secret Mountain Wilderness. This finger of non-wilderness land extends up Soldier Wash, becoming ever narrower, to end after about a mile. Soldier Pass Trail runs through it up the wash on its way to join Brins Mesa Trail at the pass.

Meanwhile, Jordan Trail starts at the sinkhole and runs east, skirting the wilderness boundary and ending at Brins Mesa Trail in Mormon Canyon. We would hike only 0.3 miles on Jordan before turning onto Cibola Pass Trail at the Yavapai/Coconino County line. This would take us through Cibola Pass, which is included in a finger of wilderness area that extends into National Forest land. We would then connect with Brins Mesa Trail around 0.3 miles farther up Mormon Canyon than if we followed Jordan Trail.

Before leaving Devils Kitchen, we paused to look west across Soldier Wash to Coffeepot Rock and the red rock spires to its right that adorned the skyline in the wilderness area on the other side.

Red rock spires seen looking west from devils Kitchen – Coffeepot Rock is at left

Leaving the sinkhole we traveled along Jordan Trail to the Cibola Pass Trailhead. I had hiked Jordan before without noting the trailhead and was looking carefully so as to avoid missing it again. When we got there, the trail was marked by a rusty, indestructible old metal sign (right), quite prominently displayed and obviously installed years ago. How did I ever miss it before?

It was only a short distance to the saddle that is Cibola Pass and that turned out to be the most confusing part of the hike. At the very crest is an old fence (left) with an open pedestrian gate for the trail. Just through the gate, however, the trail forks. Intuitively, since our goal was after all to hike up the mountain to Brins Mesa, we took the left fork. A decision that turned out to be wrong, although it does appear that a social trail might eventually connect with Brins Mesa Trail further up Mormon Canyon. Nevertheless the official Cibola Pass Trail actually turns right here.

Before leaving the saddle to descend into Mormon Canyon, we paused a few moments to look back at the scenery behind us.

Looking back across Soldier Wash from Cibola Pass

The trail made a fairly steep descent into the canyon to connect with Brins Mesa Trail. When we turned toward the mesa on that trail, we found ourselves hiking along what was obviously on old roadbed. We ascended gradually at first but eventually found ourselves climbing a steep grade before we topped out on Brins Mesa.

When we topped the rim of the mesa we found a large flat area that was burned over in 2006, but is now well on the way to recovery. The larger trees still stand like lonely, isolated specters, but thick, healthy smaller plants and grass are rapidly replacing them.

The two photographs below show Brins Mesa looking toward Soldier Pass to the west (top) and toward Dry Creek to the northwest (bottom). They are two halves of a panorama that I split to provide a more detailed view of the mesa and of the hills and passes surrounding it.

Looking west to the hills beyond Soldier Pass

Looking northwest to the mountains beyond Dry Creek

We met a few other hikers on the mesa and a small group were gathered at an isolated viewpoint jutting out over Soldier Wash. We had considered that spot as a lunch stop but, as it was already occupied, choose to continue on and stop at a bare rock area just below Soldier Pass. It was anyway just a bit on the chilly side and I was looking forward to a noon nap in the sun.

The following photograph shows the view looking south from Brins Mesa near the junction of Soldier Pass and Brins Mesa Trails. Visible just right of center is Coffeepot Rock.

Looking south down Soldier Wash and past Coffeepot Rock

At the trail junction, just before we started our descent on Soldier Pass, we met a friendly couple from Texas and paused to chat for a bit. Their youngest child had recently left for college and they were enjoying their first vacation alone together in years.

The trail descending into the wash is quite steep, one reason why I planned a counterclockwise trip for this loop hike. Unfortunately, Brins Mesa Trail turned out to ascend the mesa as steeply as does Soldier Pass Trail. But at least there seemed to be less loose gravel on Soldier Pass, making going downhill on the steep trail fairly easy.

We soon reached the sunny bare rock that I remembered from a 2011 hike and stopped for lunch. I ate quickly and managed a good nap while the other hikers chatted and enjoyed the view. Personally, I enjoy chatting except when it is nap time and, as for views, I can take a quick look at a scene and retain it in my memory as I drift off to dreamland. I awoke when the other hikers started to stir and we gathered for a photograph before continuing down the wash.

Left to right; The author, Jim Manning, Daisy Williams and Rita Faruki – photograph by Name Withheld

As we descended, we left the wilderness area and entered into the finger of non-wilderness land that extends up Soldier Wash. Soon we arrived at the Seven Sacred Pools, a pretty pretentious name for a little wash with a few pools eroded into it sandstone bed. At least one of the Sedona Jeep tour companies refers to the pools as “The Seven Sacred Apache Pools¹,” implying I suppose that the Apaches attached some religious significance to them. The same source goes on to say that the pools “only fill with rain or run-off” and that “through 2003, in the course of recorded history, one of these pools has never dried up.”

Although they can't all be seen in this photograph (right), there are indeed seven indentations, often holding water, eroded into the sandstone. I have passed this way several times and must admit that I have never seen them all dry. But to think that they depend entirely on rain and run-off, yet never entirely dry up, would seem to defy reason. If true that would appear to be a miracle, perhaps leading to the idea that the pools are sacred.

This loop hike was 5.6 miles in length, the highest elevation was 5105 feet and the total ascent was 1357 feet.

Our GPS track is shown in red on the included map (next page). The short yellow track on the map shows the way to the viewpoint overlooking Soldier Wash.

1http://www.greatventures.com/tours.aspx?id=21

North Mingus Tadpole Loop

We hiked the North Mingus Tadpole Loop on 1 November 2014. The hike is called “tadpole loop” because it forms the shape of a tadpole when drawn on a map. We usually start the hike at the hairpin turn in Forest Road 493 between Copper Chief and Iron King Mines. From there we follow the course of an old road, now blocked to vehicular traffic, that leads from the bend in FR 493 to the lower Trail 106 Trailhead on Allen Spring Road. We then follow Trail 106 up the mountain slope (passing Trail 105A, a connector trail that ties Trails 106 and 105 together) all the way to the top of Mingus, emerging at the overlook. From the overlook, we hike north on Forest Road 104 to the Mingus Mountain Glider Port where we connect with Trail 105 which takes us back down the mountain to the intersection with Trail 105A, the connector trail. We then follow Trail 105A back to Trail 106 and retrace our path to where we parked.

An iron gate is installed at the bend where the old road once left FR 493 to make its way to the lower trailhead on Trail 106. The gate is normally locked. But today we discovered that the lock was missing.

Iron gate blocking road that once ran across Iron King Mine to Allen Spring Road

The old roadbed, still eminently hikeable if not driveable, runs up the mountain to pass just above the vertical scar in Mingus that is the only visible sign of the old Iron King Mine site from the Verde Valley below.

Until a few years ago, around the time that Freeport-McMoran bought out Phelps Dodge and acquired the site, I was able to drive my car, a Mercury Sable at the time, along this old road and park at Allen Spring Road above Iron King. Since then the owners have performed extensive mitigation at the site, including filling in a large sinkhole that was located just at the upper end of the vertical scar that marks the mine. They also spent considerable time and effort re-contouring, capping and reseeding the land surface above the mine so that in time it should become almost indistinguishable from the surrounding terrain.

As we followed the old roadbed on past the now reseeded site above Iron King that was once a sinkhole, we turned sharply to the right to pass above the site. The roadbed along here has been excavated, fitted with a liner and refilled with rock to channel water running down from above away from the mine and directly into a natural wash. I was informed by Frank Lombardo, a highway engineer by profession, that this is called a “French drain.” I have seen such drainage arrangements all my life but never before had a name for them. I photographed the drain from near its top.

Old road converted into a drain to divert water away from the mine site

At the upper end of the French drain, the old roadbed turns left again and rises gently for about 140 yards to Allen Spring Road. We stopped at the turn for a group photograph with a cloudy sky and a slice of Verde Valley as backdrop.

Left to right: Chris Jensen, the author, Jim Manning, Betty Wolters, David Beach, Frank Lombardo and Loren Pritzel – photograph by Name Withheld

This last section of old road below Allen Spring Road has been blocked by a series of rock barriers such as the one shown here (right) placed to prevent the passage of motorized vehicles.

We had seen a sunny start to the day, but as can be seen in the previous two photographs, clouds were now gathering and it was becoming a bit chilly. Although the clouds were threatening it never actually rained more than a bare sprinkle, but it did become very windy for part of the hike.

Crossing Allen Spring Road we took Trail 106 up the mountain slope, at first following closely parallel to the road, but then pulling gradually apart. A short distance up the trail we came to a mountain biker's shortcut that runs almost directly down the mountain slope, passing north of Iron King Mine, and connecting with Forest Road 493 below the mine. I once followed that trail down the slope but, after that, had absolutely no desire to hike it in the uphill direction.

About 120 yards beyond the mountain biker's shortcut we had a clear view of the spot where Indian Cave is located. It shows up as a red blob (left) on a far hillside and is devilishly hard to locate when one tries getting to it. George Everman and I after spotting the opening from another viewpoint made two unsuccessful attempts before finally actually getting to the cave. The point on trail 106 from which we could view the cave is shown in the photograph (right) with green lettering (lower right quadrant) and the location of the cave, also in green, is shown in the upper left quadrant.

The weather was now gradually closing in and the wind had picked up, but we were mostly sheltered while on this side of the mountain. It was cool enough, however, that I never removed my jacket and the clouds were threatening enough that I kept my poncho ready at hand.

As we drew farther away from Allen Spring Road we could look down the slope to our right and see some of the fall foliage (left) we had hoped for on this hike. These were orange-colored leaves on small maples of the sort that grow at various sheltered locations on the mountain.

Near the junction with Trail 105A we met two bikers who asked questions about the trail ahead. In particular they wanted to make sure that they were on the correct path to to meet their pick-up party in Cottonwood. We assured them that they were indeed on a trail that would take them to Cottonwood but that they should take care to connect with FR 493 at Iron King Mine.

Although it was time for our normal mid-morning snack break when we reached the Trail 105A junction we continued on for a short distance into a grove of ponderosa pines for shelter from the wind. Ridges spread out along here from the eastern face of Mingus much like so many drooping fingers on a hand. Our sheltered spot in the ponderosas was tucked into the upper reaches of a small valley between two of these fingers. We were at an altitude of around 6700 feet and in the upper edge of a band of ponderosa pines that extends along the face of the mountain for around 3 miles, from Mescal Gulch to Twin Springs.

Trail 106 emerged from the upper edge of the ponderosas after about 0.6 miles. The trail now angled up the face of Mingus, at first at a gentle slope, but then through a series of steep switchbacks to the overlook at the Mingus Recreation Area. The trail along here, as had been the case all the way from the trailhead at Allen Spring Road, showed signs of recent trimming. Along this area we also noted that a number of large rocks had been moved and arranged to provide support for the trail when it was originally constructed, and we wondered what motivated those builders. Where were the travelers coming from and where were they going?

It was a little windy along this southeastern slope, but it was not so uncomfortable that we didn't pause often to admire the view along the slope. We could see the colorful fall leaves of maples, ranging through various colors from light yellow to dark red. The oaks, meanwhile, made themselves known near the top of the mountain by their trademark rusty red fall foliage while lower down the slope, they were still green. The mountain ridges themselves faded away in the distance, melding into the brooding clouds hovering above.

Looking south along the eastern slope of Mingus from Trail 106

Along this section we met two hikers with a dog doing the Mingus Mountain Loop (Trails 106, 105A and 105) hike.

When we arrived at the Mingus Overlook the wind was blowing strongly and we donned extra layers of clothing before settling down in a picnic area for lunch. While The rest of the group gathered around a handy table (right), I huddled in the lee of a large pine tree to eat lunch. My extra layer of clothing consisted of a hooded windbreaker, pulled on over the jacket I was already wearing, and I was actually pretty comfortable.

Some of the hikers who had chosen to eat at the picnic table were, on the other hand, becoming quite chilly and seemed anxious to move on, so I stirred myself to life and we headed north on Forest Road 104 toward the hang glider port.

A short distance up the road we once again met the two hikers with a dog, now almost done with their loop hike. Except for a couple of adults and a small boy at the glider port they were the last people we would see on this hike. And that is precisely why I like hiking the trails on Mingus Mountain; one seldom meets more that one or two other hikers.

It is only about 0.7 miles from the overlook to the Mingus Glider Port and, even though we were now somewhat sheltered from the wind by the surrounding forest, it was still cool enough that we moved along briskly, soon arriving at the port. The red lettering in the sign (left) gives the elevation as 7800 feet.

We saw a metal plate embedded (right) in concrete at the foot of the glider launch pad reminding pilots to “Hook In.” Apparently the sign was installed as a result of a 2008 accident which resulted in the death of pilot Kunio Yoshimura. The name “Skywalker,” inscribed in the concrete base at lower right, most likely refers to a fellow pilot who uses the name Randy Skywalker and who witnessed the accident.¹

We spent a few minutes at the site enjoying the panoramic view of Verde Valley spread out at our feet. We were at the very lower boundary of a dark, heavy cloud, but the valley below was crystal clear, even sun-drenched in part.

Panoramic view of Verde Valley from the Mingus Glider Port launching pad

Leaving the glider port behind we continued north along the rim to start our descent on Trail 105. Although we saw no signs to guide us, the trail was nevertheless easy to follow, showing signs of relatively heavy usage.

We were pleased to find that the mountain sheltered us from the still brisk wind as we followed the ziz-zag course of Trail 105 as it switch-backed its way down the northwest facing slope of the mountain. The trail was easy to follow and there were only a few places where one had to be extra careful with footing. Across the shoulder of the mountain, as we descended we had an excellent view of Jerome and the mine-scarred, but nevertheless beautiful, hills surrounding the town.

View of Jerome across the shoulder of Mingus from Trail 105

We were soon enough at the saddle below the top of Mingus where Trail 105 makes a sharp left turn and heads north toward Mescal Gulch and Connector Trail 105A leads south along the face of the mountain to connect with Trail 106 just 0.5 miles ahead. It is just 0.27 miles at a heading of 69 degrees, as the crow flies, from this junction to the Indian Cave mentioned earlier in this report.

But we had no desire to bushwhack our way to the cave today, instead taking the connector trail back to rejoin Trail 106. On arriving back at the Trails 105A/106 junction, we had traversed the tail of the tadpole and the loop proper. Now we had only to retrace our steps along the tail to complete our hike.

We were relieved to find that the wind had now died down a bit and that the cloud cover was dissipating as we made our way back down the mountain past the trailhead above Iron King Mine and on to our parking spot at the hairpin turn.

According to my GPS this hike was 8.3 miles in length, with a maximum elevation of 8760 feet and an elevation difference of 2192 feet.

Our track is shown in red on the included map (see next page).

1Phoenix New Times Blog: http://blogs.phoenixnewtimes.com/valleyfever/2008/09/hang_glider_pilot_who_forgot_t.php

Templeton Trail to Cathedral Rock

Jim Manning planned and led this hike to Cathedral Rock on 25 October 2014. It was planned as a short hike to be followed by a party at Jim's house in honor of several hikers who had recently or soon would be celebrating their seventieth birthday. These were Lila, Daisy, Miriam and Jim himself.

From Cottonwood, we drove to the Village of Oak Creek, turned west on Verde Valley School Road and continued for about 5.2 miles before parking in the Baldwin Trail parking area. The lot is on the left side of the road but the trailhead is on the right, so one parks and then crosses the road to start hiking. Of course crossing a rural dirt road is not usually very difficult or hazardous.

Before leaving the parking area we posed for a group photograph. We were thirteen strong today; however, two hikers choose to remain unidentified. The remaining eleven are shown below.

Left to right: Donna Goodman, Jim Manning, Miriam Sterling, Anita Jackson, Daisy Williams, Frank Lombardo, Betty Wolters, Dolly Yapp, Samantha Moor, the author and Gary Jacobson – photograph by Name withheld

We crossed the road and found one of those old, rusted, but seemingly indestructible metal signs (right) marking the Baldwin Trailhead. To reach the Templeton Trailhead we would need to hike about 0.7 miles along Baldwin.

Baldwin was a well-marked and well-used trail (left). I would not, however, wish to hike it during wet weather. The surface was worn into that fine, powdery dust that one sees in the Red Rock area and which, when wet, sticks to boots like glue.

We descended to the Oak Creek flood plain and found ourselves in a small, lovely meadow between the creek and a red rock cliff.

Small meadow in Oak Creek floodplain

Today the trail was dry, the hiking easy and we were shortly at the clearly-marked start of Templeton Trail (right). At this point Baldwin Trail heads up a wash that separates a separate 4400 foot butte from Cathedral Rock proper, circles around that butte, and returns to the starting point.

Templeton Trail, on the other hand, continued at an angle on toward Oak Creek. Just past the Templeton/Baldwin Trail junction a spider had apparently spent the night weaving an intricate web (left) between some twigs and two strands of barbed wire. The web fairly glistened in the morning sun and I could imagine the proprietor sitting somewhere in the maze congratulating himself on his excellent handiwork. Or do spiders appreciate beauty; perhaps they just take a utilitarian view of everything.

We next came to an area where the canyon walls closed in and we were squeezed between the cliff and the creek (right). The trail now turned to the right and slanted up the cliff wall at a fairly decent slope. However, it was still well-defined and the footing was good, and there were a number of switchbacks to alleviate the climbing. All in all, it was not a very difficult climb.

The two photographs below show the start of the climb and the first of the five switchbacks that would take us to the shelf running along the foot of Cathedral Rock that was our goal.

Start of climb from Oak Creek

  First of five switchbacks

After rounding the last switchback, the trail followed a shelf (or ledge) around the northeast side of Cathedral Rock. Looking ahead to the southeast we had a clear view of Courthouse Butte outlined against the morning sky in the distance.

Courthouse Butte outlined against the morning sky

About 0.2 miles after reaching the ledge we stopped for a snack where the trail made a sharp bend as it dipped into and back out of a deep indentation eroded into the wall of the mountain. Just above us a small juniper (left) clung tenaciously to the cliff face, defying both wind and drought.

The trail had pretty much been ours thus far. However, soon after continuing from our snack break, we were joined by several other hikers and also by a large number of bikers. I wondered “where did they all so suddenly come from,” a question that was soon answered when we came first to the Cathedral Trail crossing and then, a short distance, away a junction with the Easybreezy Trail. Even farther ahead is the HT Trail crossing. Hikers and bikers from all of these feeder trails use Templeton Trail to transit from one trail to another.

Although we spent a great deal of time stepping off the trail to let bikers pass and avoid bumping into other hikers, the views were well worth it.

Panoramic view of Cathedral Rock

After seeing this much of Templeton Trail, I am determined to do the rest of it in the future, perhaps even including a climb on up Cathedral Rock Trail.

Jim had done an excellent job by selecting a hike that would both be enjoyable and give us a good workout while still allowing us to finish in time to enjoy the birthday party for the bumper crop of 70 year old hikers.

According to my GPS, the round trip hike was 5 miles, the highest elevation was 4173 feet and the total ascent was 702 feet.

Our track is shown in red on the included map (see next page).