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Arizona : November, 2008

Boynton Canyon, Sedona

I guess my friend, John Lindstrom, thinks I must be some kind of inveterate vagabond. I say this because everytime I see him he says something to the effect, "You're always gone." Of course this is a mis-characterization since, if factual, he would never be able to tell me that, at least in person. 

But he has a point since I do travel a fair amount, and probably have at least a modicum of the wanderlust that travel writers always fuss about, as if it were some sort of treatable ailment they'd just as soon not receive.

This time, for Jen and me, it was Arizona, a state that had more or less eluded me, at least south of Interstate 40 (more romantically known as "Old Route 66"), the avenue by which I first came to the West Coast in June of  1968.

 It was not so much wanderlust that drew us there recently, but the prospect of an expiring Alaska Airlines ticket, originally intended for travel to Mexico. At the time of purchase it was a pretty good deal: two tickets for about $700. Since funds are a little tight these days I thought I might look for a place to travel this time which approximated the cost of those tickets.  Tucson jumped out at me, in fact was even a little bit cheaper. However, good 'ole Alaska somehow managed to figure out a way to turn what amounted to a straight trade into an additional $150 dollar profit.  Now we were not even getting across the border, at an additional cost to boot, but let's not dwell on that...

The plan of this week-long adventure, after arriving in Tucson, was to do a little hiking in Sabino Canyon, a popular area incising nearby Mt. Lemmon, then move north to the "red rocks" area of Sedona, from there south again to the Chircahua Mountains and Bisbee, a former copper-mining community not far from the Mexican border. Bisbee had originally been recommended to me by a college roommate way back in the 70s, and it had been in the back of my mind to visit ever since.

It is really a pretty easy flight from Seattle to Tucson, about two-and-a-half hours, and it was made even more comfortable by the fact that we flew directly over the Grand Canyon near sunset, and were also afforded distant views of Bryce Canyon and Sedona. My Kodak P880 and Panasonic TZ-3 cameras were clicking steadily, and the photo to the right is one product of flight 648.

After an unremarkable night in a Comfort Inn, but a remarkable dinner to balance it at the Eclectic Cafe on Tanque Verde Road, we headed off to Sabino Canyon. Our friends Jeff and Debra Thorn, who live in Tucson, had recommend Sabino over a longer drive to the top of Mt. Lemmon, at 9167 feet towering nearly a mile-and-a-quarter over Tucson. "Too much like Seattle" Jeff had said about the upper reaches of the mountain, referring to the pine forest environment at that elevation. "Sabino will give you more of a desert experience" and we agreed. The weather, perfectly cloudless and in the high 70s (it remained that way for the first 6 days of our trip), came desirably as advertised and we soon were in shorts and short sleeve tops. 

Sabino Canyon is an extremely popular destination for Tucson locals, and I remarked to Jen that it probably represents a perfect place to take visitors, affording an outdoor experience ranging ranging from easy to difficult. Canyon access from the visitor center is by motorized tram and these open-air transports take visitors about 3 miles up the canyon, with stops along the way, from which it is possible to do several things, depending on your conditioning and sense of adventure. One can simply return by tram, walk back down the same road, or, in our case, access a number of interconnected trails.

Sabino Canyon, looking west from above the Tram turnaround

We decided to hike the Pipeline Trail, which contours the upper slopes of the canyon above the road, leading downhill to tram stops or the visitor center, about a 4-mile walk. This is dry, desertry hiking, with Saguaro cactus a dominant feature. We expired a fair amount of water in the still, warm air of the canyon, even at this late season, and were pretty well worn out by the time we reached the visitor center. 

From Sabino Canyon we took about a half-hour drive to Oro Valley and the home of our friends, Jeff and Debra Thorn. Jeff and Debra left Seattle in 1999, representing perhaps the first "snowbirds" of our friends, though they live there year-round, not just part of the year.  Jeff is a fine musician who was a member of the 1970s Seattle group, "The Old Hat Band" which combined oldtime stringband music with a satirical medicine show -- very funny and very popular. They invited us to stay the night at their cozy, stucco home bordering on a golf course, and it was good to have dinner with them and catch up on all their "doin's."

In the morning we departed for Sedona, as usual sticking to the "blue" highways, consciously avoiding the Interstate. It was a long days' drive, but interesting for the constantly changing environment along the way. We stopped briefly at Biosphere II, an environmental research facility oriented toward space colonization experiments. Famously, two experiments in 1991 and 1994 sealed "Biospherians" inside the glass-enclosed facility in order to measure survivability. We considered a tour, but at $20 a pop, and with the necessity of reaching Sedona that evening, we decided to pass.

Near Hayden I noticed an approaching, landscape dominating smokestack. Investigating further, I learned it was part of an Asarco copper smelting facility, and as we drove Hwy 177 thirty-five miles north to Superior, then eastward on Rte 60 to Globe, we were staggered by the size and extent of the open-pit mining, the most prominent known as the "Ray Operation." Words cannot adequately capture the extent of the environmental intrusion but cratered desolation as far as the eye could see and terraced mountains of tailings dominated this otherwise beautiful country.  Here is how Asarco sees it: 

"The Ray Operations consists of a 250,000 ton/day open pit mine with a 30,000 ton/day concentrator, a 103 million pound/year solvent extraction-electrowinning operation, and associated maintenance, warehouse and administrative facilities. Cathode copper produced in the SX-EW operation is shipped to outside customers and the Asarco Amarillo Copper Refinery.

Desert, Mesas, and (middle) an Asarco tailings ridge near Hayden, Arizona

"The Hayden Operations consists of a 27,400 ton/day concentrator and a 720,000 ton/year copper smelter consisting of an oxygen flash furnace, converters, anode casting, oxygen plant, acid plant, and associated maintenance, warehouse and administrative facilities. Anodes produced at the smelter are shipped to the Amarillo Copper Refinery. The sulphuric acid produced at the acid plant is used in the leaching operations or sold into the market."

Well. 

If you want surprise adventure when traveling a major rule of the road is to ask questions. Don't be shy! You never know where a simple question may lead. When we traveled to Paso Robles in April of 2007 a chance meeting on the street with 82-year old Joe DiPietro resulted in a wonderful tour of his vineyard, and some free  and highly discounted bottles of wine.  Several of these encounters occurred on our Arizona trip.

The first of these came at the Coffee Pot restaurant in Sedona. This is a restaurant that has been written up in the New York Times, features great Huevos Rancheros, and sports a wall full of signed celebrity photos as diverse as Elvis and Silvio Berlusconi.  We came here for breakfast after a less-than-exciting start to the Sedona portion of the trip the night before. I had booked a 2-for-1 reservation at what appeared to be an excellent facility, the Sedona Summit Resort. I figured, at $180 for 2 nights, instead of one, it was worth a try.  What I hadn't anticipated, after a long day on the road, was to have a lot of difficulty in finding the place in the dark (I had to ask directions at a Days Inn), and further impediments checking-in with an uncoordinated staff who ultimately shuttled us over to a Concierge, ostensibly for a parking sticker.  There we endured an intense, bubbly, won't-take-no-for-an-answer attendant determined to get us to attend a "90 minute presentation" in exchange for cheaper room rates.

Still, the next morning's breakfast at the Coffee Pot was excellent, and as we were paying our bill Jen asked the cashier if he had any suggestions about a good hike. After some back-and-forth, a voice behind us said, "I think I can help." This was Steve Zimmerman, a tall, engaging, white-haired chap, retired, who queried us about our intent, and then said, "follow me." Steve jumped into a white Cadillac with an Obama sticker, and led us out of town to the gated Enchantment Resort which he later told us had been voted the "number one resort" in the entire world recently.  And it was  enchanting (though the $1800 a night "Casitas" would have been far out of range for us), sitting at the mouth of the lovely Boynton Canyon (see topmost photo).  Steve lived there part of the year and got us a guest pass to wander around. 

But the best part of it was that it had direct access to the canyon, avoiding a longer stretch of hiking from the public parking lot.  And so it was that we wandered into one of the most beautiful valleys -- actually a box canyon -- that I have ever visited, rivaling more famous areas I have been in such as Zion National Park.

On the grounds of the Enchantment Resort, Sedona

We walked to the uppermost reach of the trail, and then scrambled out onto the red rocks for additional views. Later we sat on a marvelous deck (left) and had lunch overlooking the resort and valley.  An outstanding day.

The following day we backtracked south, and quickly came upon the unusual mining community of Jerome.  Unusual in that it sits perched, at 52 hundred feet, on the side of a precipitous stretch of Highway 89A west of Sedona.  The road is narrow but the thinking wide in this rustic town, based on the folk-artsy nature of its stores and buildings.  We had not planned to stop, but could not resist wandering around the community and photographing the panoramic views.

It's a pretty long haul from Sedona -- 350 miles by blue highways -- to where we bedded down that night in Willcox, a dusty, Last Picture Show community along Interstate 10 west of Tucson.  Along the way we were surprised to see major cotton growing operations in Safford, a community of about 9 thousand residents.

In Willcox I knew there would be chain motels by the Interstate but we are always looking for mossy, less expensive accomodations and we quickly found what we were looking for: the "Motel 8," proprieted by an East Indian couple, and at $50 quite affordable -- a far cry from the Enchantment Resort.  We didn't expect much of Willcox but we encountered some friendly folks and a decent breakfast in a restored railroad car.  Around the corner from that was a restored block of historic Willcox which included a museum tribute to the town's favored son, Rex Allen, Jr.  Nearby was a plain, intriguing establishment sporting a small sign, "Friends of Marty Robbins." When it is open (it is currently "closed for construction" and "in need of funding") it is a museum and gift shop which hosts an "Annual Tribute" to the famous singer who wasn't from Willcox but gave us country ballads ("El Paso") and Rock & Roll hits ("A White Sport Coat and a Pink Carnation").

All of this was a presage our next stop at the Chiracahua National Monument of southwestern Arizona, not far from the New Mexico border.  I knew nothing of this area, except that it was loosely on the way to Bisbee, our ultimate goal that day and the final segment of our trip.  What a surprise was in store for us!

About 35 miles southwest of Willcox, the Chiracahua National Monument is a remote, spectacular area of eroded, rhyolite "hoodoos" similar in size to those of Bryce Canyon National Park but lacking their more dramatic colorations.  Still, we were overwhelmed by the beauty and recommend you pay a visit if you're ever wandering around the remote environs of southeast Arizona.

It was our plan to take a long, loop route through several formations, but the Echo Canyon trail, which starts at road's end above 6 thousand feet and drops about a thousand, was so stunning that we simply decided to walk back up through what we had just traversed, particularly since we had been walking westward, looking at the shadowed backside of the formations. Giant hoodoos loomed over us, and we passed through many "grottoes" of these formations, sometimes peering into chasms and caves and marveling at  precariously perched rocks. 

An inactive volcanic range, the spires, columns, and pinnacles are eroded rhyolitic remnants, known to the Apaches as the "Land of Standing Rocks," about as precise a description as one could give.  The Monument also represents four separate ecological areas, or biomes, and exotic animals, such as javelina, coatimundi, and trogon, as well as mountain lions, are resident here.

Jen, along the Echo Canyon trail

Bisbee is a really interesting town, but a place of which few folks seem to be aware, at least in the northwest. If you're one, here are some facts: It's in southeastern Arizona about 90 miles from Tucson and 10 miles north of Naco, Mexico (if you have any idea where that is). Situated 20 feet above a mile high, in dry, mountainous hills bordering grasslands to the east, the community of about 6 thousand residents was founded in 1880. It was named after Judge DeWitt Bisbee, a financial backer of the (defunct) Copper Queen mine, now a rather unpleasant eyesore at the eastern edge of town. The mines and miners are gone, but artists, retirees, and weathered hippies have taken their place, attracted to the temperate, sunny climate, tolerant politics, and historic, sometimes folksy architecture.

We had reservations at the Grand Hotel, one of many fine turn-of-the-20th century buildings, that features Victorian and Western appointments, and the possibility of sleeping in a covered wagon. We didn't do that, but after a night in an interior room without outside window access and a noisy, leaking toilet the owner graciously moved us to a more expensive suite, without additional charge. 

I wasn't sure what we would do after walking the main street of the small community. Though it has interesting stores, it didn't take long to browse them, and so Jen and I began prowling the back streets, which wind and turn and ultimately led us up a hill to a spot where we could overlook the town. Along the way we saw some interesting residential amalgams -- creative agglomerations of battened barnwood, plywood, old trailers, corrugated roofing; and salvaged artifacts like metal bedposts and sewing machines as yard art. These are mixed in with more traditional residences, all artfully and cozilly tucked into nooks of the hillsides. 

From somewhere below we could hear the plaintive notes of a flute.

All of this led me to a curiosity about home values, but the realtor signs did not provide descriptive flyers or prices.  Noting a home for sale and two couples conversing next door, we stopped to enquire.  And so we met Bill and Julie, who readilly responded to our questions ("About 150-200 thousand will buy you a modest but comfortable home") and quickly invited us into their own residence for a tour. This led to coffee and cookies, and an extended visit in their dining room. They are Californians, from Inverness, now spending most of their retirement years in Bisbee. We became fast friends, and when it came time for us to leave, they invited us to join them and some of their interesting friends for a drink at the stately Copper Queen Hotel, an 1890s remnant of the copper mining era.

Bill Bailey and Julie, Tisch on the porch of their Bisbee home

The following day, our last, we stopped in Tombstone, a short drive from Bisbee on the way to the Tucson airport. Tombstone, you may recall, is the site of the 1881 "Gunfight at the OK Corral," perhaps the most (in)famous of wild west confrontations and the subject of numerous movies, including the 1957 version of the same title starring Burt Lancaster and Kirk Douglas.  Members of the Earp family (Wyatt among them) and Doc Holliday clashed with members of the Clanton clan over politics, business, and various other misunderstandings and grudges. Why anyone would feel any of this was of enough importance to kill each other in what remains a remote, desolate enclave is beyond me. Nonetheless, several of the Clantons were killed and some of the Earps injured. 127 years later Tombstone survives off re-creations of this event, retaining a dusty main street, hitching posts, saloons, stagecoaches, western stores, and an aggressive number of street hawkers, replete in cowboy duds and east-coast accents, pushing it all on willing tourists.  We had lunch at Big Nose Kate's saloon where we endured an off-key cowboy singer and his Electronic Backup Machine Band, then let the 140 horses of our Ford Focus get us out of 'Dodge -- er,Tombstone -- as fast as possible, on our way to the Tucson airport.

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 Music:

National Oldtime Fiddler's Contest

June, 2008

 

In late June Jen and I attended the National Oldtime Fiddlers's Contest in Weiser, Idaho.  This is a week-long event centered around the fiddle contest, which draws hundreds of fiddlers, of all ages, from all over the country featuring primarily Texas-style fiddling.  This contest has been going since the 1950s and I have been attending since 1972.  I have only missed 3 years in that entire period.

The fiddle contest is one thing -- I entered several times in the early 1980s -- but my interests are much more focused on the informal musical jamming in the campgrounds near the high school where the contest is held.  There is all kinds of acoustic music on display here in addition to the fiddling: old-timey (in "Stickerville," so named because of the prevalence of goat-head stickers there), swing, celtic, jazz, folk, country, etc., and of course, bluegrass which is my interest.

Each year we camp in Taylor's Campground, a private campground on the property of Ruth Taylor, just across the street from the high school.  While it is not at the center of activities, we like it here because it has some desirable attributes including shade (temperatures are frequently in the 90s here next to the Snake River in southwest Idaho), privacy when we want it, and close-by showers.

                                                                                                                                                      

An unusual highlight this year happened one day when a young bicyclist, Jonathan Fretheim, road into our campsite.  He is on a bicycle tour that started in San Jose, California, and will end in Iowa where he grew up.  29-years old, Jonathan works for Apple I-tunes but took time off for this adventure (see his blog at: www.82times.blogspot.com).

Another fun thing to do at Weiser, which has become a tradition, is to get Mexican food at Benny's Tacos.  Benny sets up in a converted bus at the "Institute" campground.  I recommend the Tacos and the Tortas.

Oh.  Who won the Open Division championship?  Tristan Claridge was first and his sister, Tashina, second.  No one in the top ten was over 27 years of age.

Each year we leave a little bit early and take our time returning to Anacortes, exploring Idaho, Oregon, and Washington along the way.  The last few years have begun with a night at Zim's Hot Springs near New Meadows, Idaho.  Situated in a high meadow, this is a swimming pool-style hot springs with two pools, one about 95 degrees, the other 105.  Families like to bring their kids there and the overall feel of the place is funky and laid-back (though the "Pool Rules" sign has a few "do's and don'ts" -- note the "no spawning" rule below).  We got day passes to swim and camped for a total of $22 -- quite a deal. 

After that it was on to the Blue Mountains in the Umatilla National Forest of southwest Washington.  The area we explored marks the north boundary of Hell's Canyon, but since there are no through highways in the forest, it goes mostly unnoticed by tourists, except for locals.  We drove about 40 miles on gravel roads, passing through mixed conifer stands and meadows, reaching 55 hundred feet elevation at one point.  We checked out a few Forest Service campgrounds but it looked like a fair amount of gun-toting, boozy rowdiness so we moved on.  Instead, we found a side road that led to a meadowy ridge with a great vista.  My Vanagon is a 4-wheel drive "Syncro" so we were easily able to negotiate the bumpy road (except for the hidden boulder I banged into, but that's another story). 

That night we had a pretty severe wind and rain storm, but our canvas canopy stood up to it well.  This storm, by the way, was part of a larger front that spawned many of the 800 California fires currently burning.

We cruised down and out of the Blue Mountains and headed north with a goal in mind of reaching Jen's brother's cabin in Winthrop, Washington.  I like to stay off main roads so we essentially zig-zagged our way through eastern Washington farm country, passing by the Grand Coulee Dam on the way. 

Winthrop is one of my favorite places to go cross-country skiing in the Winter, but I have not spent much time there in the Summer.  Then it becomes a great place for bicyclists, who use many of the same trails as the skiers.

Relaxing on the deck of Greg and Doreen Dunton's cabin, a deer came up to within about 6 feet of me as dusk settled in.  The pines were swaying in a soft breeze, the Mourning Doves cooing, and it was the perfect last night of our trip.  The next morning we had breakfast at one of our ritual stops in Winthrop: the Duck Brand Hotel.  Then it was back into the Westphalia for the last push across the Cascades and 5700-foot Washington Pass via the beautiful North Cascades Highway.

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Travel: 

Trout Lake, Ontario

May 2008

I just returned from our Trout Lake, Ontario cabin (to locate this on Google Earth, search "Mashkode, Ontario." Trout Lake is the big lake to the right of the locator), and it was a great experience.  I was there 8 days.  This cabin is accessed by train (57 miles) from Sault Ste. Marie (there is a treacherous 4-wheel drive road I have never attempted).  It is located in a rugged, remote, wilderness area (closest paved road is 25 miles).  There is no power, no telephones, no traffic lights, no services, no I-Pods─just water, wildlife, trees, the daily train, and a few people.  Fabulous.  I had the whole 3-mile long lake to myself one evening.

I especially like this early May week because it is the real beginning of Spring there and, more importantly, just before the mosquitoes and black flies figure that out.  This year was unusual in that there was very high lake levels because of the cold, snowy Winter there.  It appears there was water in my front yard, and it even carried a log to within a few feet of my deck, some 30 feet from the shoreline.  A neighbor across the lake had lattice damage on his deck from surging lake ice.

The weather in general is very unpredictable and jumps all over the place.  A wood stove is being installed this week, but I had no real heat source other than propane lights and gas cookstove burners (dangerous).  It got down to 25 degrees a couple of nights (low 40s inside the cabin) so it required a little extra bundling.  Still, I was never really cold.  My lights and insulation kept much of the chill off.       

I did a lot of exploring, both on established trails and cross-country through the woods.  The leaves are just budding out on the deciduous maples and birch right now, so it is very easy to find your way around, and I used a neat little Digitech compass.

Fishing was good though I did none myself.  A friend of mine had me over for a Lake and Speckled (Brook) trout dinner.  Goooooooooood!

There are moose and bear in the vicinity, maybe even wolves.  I had a bear-spray cannister with me all the time, but never encountered one in the woods.  Saw lots of partridge, but that was about it for wildlife this time.

...Except for one event: As I was motoring down the lake in my boat one day, I noticed an interesting phenomenon.  There are rugged, 500-foot hills bordering the lake, with rock outcroppings and heavy forest.  On the top of one hill (below) was a grove of birch.  Near the top of one tree I saw a black mass which was too large to be a nest.  You guessed it─a mature black bear─and the limbs at that height could not be more than a few inches thick!  Just unbelievable!  Yes, it is a small speck─that is the closest I could get with the telephoto and it is a little fuzzy in this reduced image─but you can see it was a bear.  I watched it moving, reaching really, and that leads me to believe it was trying to get at a bird's nest.  But who knows!

Note the black bear high in the tree...

Another day I was hiking across a beaver dam at the mouth of a lake and my Panasonic TZ3 dropped out its carrying pouch, banged on a rock, and dropped into two feet of water.  I immediately retrieved it but it wasn't functional.  Later I took it apart and dried it the best I could.  It actually started to work again, except that the lens and LCD screen were foggy.  I thought it was toast (soggy toast, actually) but, lo and behold, in a few days, it cleared up and it's working like a charm.

The beaver activity in this area is phenomenal.  I took a cross-country hike around several lakes one day and there was extensive beaver engineering.   

Leroux Cabin

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 Travel: