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| There is Pie at the End of the Trail, AZ | |
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| | There is Pie at the End of the Trail, AZ | | | |
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There is Pie at the End of the Trail, AZ
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| Hiking | 16.50 Miles |
2,674 AEG |
| | Hiking | 16.50 Miles | | | |
| 2,674 ft AEG | | | | |
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| partners | | Our second day of hiking in the White Mountains dawned fairly clear. It had rained hard during the night. At breakfast we discussed possible options for the day. We all wanted to try the West Baldy Trail, but the idea of getting caught in an afternoon thunderstorm (60% probability according to the weather guessers) appealed to no one. We decided to reconnoiter the Baldy trailhead, but picked some shorter alternate hikes along the way as backups. Off we went armed with what we considered a reasonable plan.
The sky looked pretty promising when we reached the western trailhead. Apparently the night’s rain had taken some of the punch out of the forecasted storms. With cautious optimism we headed up hill. I’ve never hiked Baldy before, but within the first mile I knew this trail was going to make my favorites list. The entire contingent was in high spirits.
The trail is in really good condition and has an easy grade as it climbs alongside the West Fork. We were all “oohs” and “aahs” at the beauty of the surrounding forest and the gurgling of the water. Views across the canyon were spectacular. The sky was mostly blue with friendly white puffy clouds. Total smiles all the way around the group.
We passed a few casual hikers, as to be expected on this popular trail, and some backpackers. Two young men had a large very distinctive looking dog. I thought I might have an idea as to his heritage and an inquiry proved me right – half malamute, half wolf. Bosco turned out to be very friendly and well mannered. He was also not above expressing his desire to share in your jerky snack. We’d bump into Bosco and his companions throughout the day. Bosco never lost his friendliness nor his memory of who was transporting jerky.
Around three miles we reached a long sloping meadow. The trail here was just a narrow wet ditch, quite the contrast from the near perfect trail conditions so far. But it didn’t last long enough to dampen our enthusiasm for the hike. Soon we were back in the shaded forest. At fourish miles we hit the only real obstacle in the trail. There are several significant stream crossings, but each has a nice bridge over a culvert, all but this one. The bridge had been washed away at some point. Parts of the concrete and stone abutments remain. The pipe can be seen father downstream where it became lodged. The side creek is a bit wide to jump and too deep to wade with your boots on. After a quick scan of the still inviting sky and yet another council, we opted to attempt a crossing and continue up. We each chose logs that had fallen across the creek as our method to navigate the obstacle. Such is our divergence in what constitutes a suitable makeshift bridge that three different logs were chosen by our group of four. No one took an impromptu bath however, so we must have chosen wisely.
At five miles we stopped to again consider the sky and our individual conditions. We’d begun the hike with the idea of going up until we wanted to come down, weather and our own level of effort being the deciding factors. Both of those considerations were good, so we decided to press for the saddle or the first hint of thunder, which ever came first. The grade here increases somewhat, but is still quite friendly. Wild raspberries grow in abundance along the trail. We munched handfuls of the little red motivators as we ascended. Kelly and I were computing distance and elevation remaining, the numbers getting encouragingly smaller. With a final push we reached the saddle and the intersection with the East Baldy Trail. The summit was so close, so tempting. Angela said she was staying put if we went up. Kelly looked like a kid awaiting the arrival of Santa. Mary Jo just said, “I’m going,” and left. Kelly took off after her and I dropped my pack and asked Angela to watch it “for a few minutes.” I’ve heard the views from the Baldy summit are spectacular!!!
The hike down was slow but so very, very satisfying. We’d planned to drive over to the Bear Wallow Café in Alpine for dinner. They are renowned for homemade pies. “There is pie at the end of the trail,” became our rallying cry. Angela had her heart set on strawberry rhubarb. Kelly was feeling some blackberry in her future. Mary Jo was too happy to have made it to the top to care much either way. I could go for any of the pies they had, but chowing down in a place called Bear Wallow was just more of a perfect ending to a perfect day than this particular bear could imagine. Not even the log creek crossing seemed an obstacle at this point. It actually isn’t too wide to jump over I discovered. After a quick stop for showers at the cabin, we descended on Bear Wallow and immediately demanded that the poor proprietors of this little piece of heaven on earth set aside a slice of exactly what each of us wanted just in case some far less worthy mortal dare take the last of it. |
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Wildflowers Observation Light
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All you have is your fire...
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