|
| | | |
| |
|
| Hiking | 18.60 Miles |
2,040 AEG |
| | Hiking | 18.60 Miles | 1 Day 4 Hrs | | |
| 2,040 ft AEG | | | | |
|
|
| |
| Linked |
|
none
[ show ]
| no linked trail guides |
| Partners |
|
none
[ show ]
| no partners | | Missourians in the Superstitions
Thursday: After a slow start to the morning (looking for Walmart, get disposable cameras, find grocery store, misc. items, it's amazing how much time errands can consume!), we made for the Superstitions. We arrived at the trailhead at noon, and were ready to hit the trail at 13:00, about three hours later than I had hoped.
While planning our Arizona vacation, I researched and prepared for four backpacking trips: Wet Beaver Creek Wilderness, Pine Mountain Wilderness, Sycamore Canyon Wilderness, and Superstitions Wilderness. A snow storm was being predicted for Friday, nearly certain to leave a few inches of snow anywhere in Arizona above 6,000 feet altitude. So, spooked by the weathermen, I chose the lower altitude Reavis Ranch hike.
I had called the ranger's office and confirmed that the spring was flowing. The Ranch is a ten mile hike from the FR212 trailhead, the first 5 miles being a gradual, but relentless, grade up to Castle Dome, followed by 5 miles of up-down-up-down through Windy Pass and Plow Saddle. Ten miles to go, and we weren't hitting the trail until 13:00! We made the first eight miles well. The terrain was beautiful with majestic views of Apache Lake (picture), mountains unfolding layer after layer on the horizon, a pasture full of bright blue songbirds. But by mile eight, our unconditioned feet began to grow very weary, and the daylight was beginning to fade. We made it to the north end of Reavis Ranch, where Reavis Ranch trail meets Reavis Gap trail (picture), just before sundown and found a nice campsite near the creek. The trees are thick along the creek, and the gnarly old sycamores and pines, while offering structure and shelter, also brought shadows (picture).
We began setting up camp in the growing dusk. I built a small fire and my wife began making dinner. As I was unfurling the tent, from the dark greyness out past our visibility's reach came a scream. A blood-chilling, bone-curdling, wet-your-pants scream. "YEEE-OW!" We froze. Then my conversation with the darkness began:
"Is that you, Ish?" asked a man's voice. I estimated him to be 30-50 yards away, probably on the trail.
I hesitated.
"No."
"Ish?"
"It's not Ish."
"Oh. Have you heard any dogs come through here?"
"No, no dogs. Haven't seen a thing. Except a deer"
"You saw a deer?"
"Yeah, saw a deer, but no dogs."
"Oh. Well, we're tracking a lion on that mountain behind you."
I turned to look, as if I would see anything except more grey darkness.
"Oh."
"So what are you doin' here?"
"We're just camping, backpacking."
"You come up, which way did you come up?"
"Came up Reavis Ranch Trail."
"Oh, yeah, I know which trail you came in on, you're parked up there [trails off]. Are you alone?"
This question was a turning point in the conversation, for me, at least. I'm leading my beautiful wife 20 miles into the wilderness, I'm chatting with a hunter I can't see, who I assume is poaching mountain lions (the environmentalists have so brow-beaten me that I immediately assume that if an animal isn't a squirrel or a mosquito it is certainly an endangered species - only later did I learn lion hunting is a perfectly legitimate activity in Arizona), my conversation partner has a gun, and he has a friend named Ish who is also roaming the mountains, also armed. What do I say?
"Negative."
"Alright. Well, if anyone comes through here, tell him I went this way."
It's all darkness to me.
"Ok."
My wife, perhaps a twig-snap from weeping uncontrollably, helped me finish pitching the tent, sat down in the tent, and did not move the rest of the night. I was now on alert, for sure. I don't think I was terrified, although the thought of two hunters agitating a mountain lion didn't weigh lightly on my mind. That's what frightened my wife the most, the lion. She had seen tracks on our trail in, but had bravely dismissed them as a sign of danger. I was now a little concerned about the lion, a little more concerned about the hunters.
"Do you want dinner?" I asked.
"No, I just want to go to bed," she replied.
"I'll make dinner," I said.
We'd just hiked 10 miles and I knew we needed to eat. she had prepared amazing dehydrated meals for us, so putting some water to boil and making chicken-n-stuffing was easy. We sat, prayed, and ate a hot, filling, delicious meal before finally laying down for the night.
God was not absent. She slept well, better than I, in fact. I layed my little hatchet next to me in the tent. A friend later laughed and reminded me, "Never take a knife to a gun fight, J-bob." True enough, but a man has to work with whatever he can.
Friday: We woke to a beautiful sunrise over Reavis Ranch and weighed our options. Breakfast was delicious "Hangdog Oatmeal" (oatmeal plus crushed dried bananas, walnuts, and brown sugar). The original plan was to hunker down for the coming storm, explore the ranch area, visit points of interest, then hike out on Day 8. But after the previous night's excitement my wife wanted to leave. And I knew that, hunters and mountain lions aside, we would be better off getting at least partway closer to the car. But I was very uneasy with the idea of another 10 mile hike. I knew my body was hurting from the trek, and I assumed hers was at least as weary, and a muddy trail makes hard travellin'.
We agreed that we should see the Ranch ruins, so we made some coffee and strolled down the trail. There was a cowboy camp along the way: nice fire ring w/ logs for benches and a rudimentary horse pen. We came across some rusty iron farm implements (pictures) (how did Reavis get these heavy iron pieces way up here!?!), followed by the foundation and ruins of Reavis' home. After some poking around, we went back and broke camp.
At 10:00, just as we were donning our raingear, the rain and sleet started. The 5 miles back up to Castle Dome was difficult, to say the least. The precipitation wasn't constant, and the trail wasn't impassably muddy, and we were plenty warm and dry, but it was cold, wet, and windy, and we were sore. By Castle Dome, the precipitation stopped, and the skies were clearing (pictures). Like the day before, we made eight miles without much pain, but the final two miles to the trailhead were grueling. Our bodies weren't fit for this. We made it back to the Subie by about 15:00, and back down to the Phoenix area before sundown.
Unfortunately the fear of a pissed off lion and an uncomfortable exchange with other wilderness users made a beautiful and otherwise delightful trip rather stressful (my wife called it a "nightmare"). I would do it again with 3 or 4 friends. There's safety in numbers. |
| _____________________
| "In His hand are the depths of the earth; the heights of the mountains are His also. The sea is His, for He made it, and His hands formed the dry land.... Today, if you hear His voice, do not harden your hearts." Psalm 95 |
| | |
|
|
|
Route Editor
Route Scout
