Meandering Mazatals

With nearly everything taken care of during our 24 hour stay in the town of Superior, the only thing left on our list before hitting the trail was mailing a few miscellaneous items back home. We walked back across town to the post office, only to discover that is was closed on Saturdays in this small town. Somewhere up above us the stars were laughing…

We waited outside of a boarded up cantina across the street as we tried to hash out a plan to get our items back home. (Historical side note: that boarded up cantina is owned by a 96 year old man who grew up in old Jerome, but he only opens the bar during the week to keep the riff-raff out. How the buliding is still standing is a miracle in itself) In this time, we settled on contacting a local trail angel in Superior, hoping he might be able to ship our package at a later date.

After a long wait in front of that Cantina, we finally connected with the trail angel Al, or the Tie-Dye Saint. Meeting him was well worth the trouble. We talked and talked for hours and when all was said and done, we felt like we had known each other for a decades time. With that, we stayed another day in town, thankful for a new friend, and the surprises the trail provides.

breakfast at Al’s

After waking up at Al’s and cooking up some French toast for breakfast, it was very hard not to stay yet another day. We reluctantly loaded our things into his jeep, and made our way to the trail head to the north of the highway. Our drive got a little emotional as nobody wanted to say goodbye, but knew it would happen nonetheless.

We got dropped off with the advice to follow the two-track, which was more scenic and easier miles than the trail. We took this advice, and picked up the trail again where it entered Reevis canyon. We followed the canyon up stream for several miles until it terminated in a great desert basin. It was a steep climb out, one we had been anticipating all day. When we finally made it over the other side, we re-joined the forest road one last time, this time in unison with the trail.

huge Juniper near the historic Reevis Ranch

After following FR650 a little ways, we found some of the typical camps that adorn the sides of such roads. Camps with four fire pits, the limbs of every tree sawed off, broken glass etc.. We found the best of these, set out the tarp, and slept like rocks.

As we made our approach to Lake Roosevelt through the Superstition Mountains, we climbed in and out of canyons, up one side of a saddle and down another, most of every day. One evening, after topping off our canteens, we hiked up and out the canyon just in time to catch a beautiful sunset over the purple waves of mountains feeding into Lake Roosevelt. We bedded down on the ridgeline, hoping the sunrise would be equally beautiful.

We slept beautifully. Perhaps better. It was an excellent night of rest, the air was still and cold, but not too cold. There was no condensation on the sleeping bag in the morning. When I first opened my eyes, the first color of morning was coming on, while the crescent moon grinned madly behind the wafting clouds. It was a sight no picture could capture.

From here it was a rocky hop skip and jump down to Lake Roosevelt. We spent the afternoon at the marina, cooling off with salty snacks and cold beverages. Once the heat if the day passed, we made our way up vineyard mountain, a lovely one mile climb that is near vertical the whole way. Exhausted by the time we reached “The top,” we set up on yet another prominent ridgeline, and were treated to another magnificent sunset.

The following day we continued to climb straight up, making our way towards the southern Mazatal mountains. The most prominent features of the range, the Four Peaks, lie directly ahead.

four-peaks on the horizon

While the climb was very steep, the trail was mostly devoid of loose rock, making the going a little easier. We eventually leveled out just past the granite spring. After climbing most the day, we came around one last corner and found ourselves staring right up at the four summits – (from North to South) Brown, Brother, Sister & Amethyst!

After leveling out, the trail began meandering from one valley to the next, dropping and climbing a hundred feet here and there, but nothing compared to what we did in the previous 24 hours. We took our breaks at the fresh water creeks we passed along the way, flowing down from the remnant snow fields on the North side of Four Peaks.

As we wrapped around and came down the other side, we crossed highway 87, which cuts the Mazatal range in half. As our good friend Bluebird was hosting a “Halfway party,” back at lake Roosevelt, we thumbed a ride into Jake’s Corner, 20 miles from nowhere. This was wonderful little place that epitomizes everything great about small towns. For hikers and bicyclers, this even included free hot showers and camping. We picked up a few more essentials here before the owner of the general store helped us with a ride all the way back to the lake.

We took a day off here, and a real one at that. We didn’t worry about laundry, showers, or resupply because the marina didn’t offer any of that. So we sat by the lake instead, eating cereal and hummus by the pound. Someone even showed up with a fishing boat in time for a sunset cruise. All things considered, it was one of our better days off…

When the sun came up the following day, without a question we knew it was time to leave. Perhaps it was something in the air, but it was never questioned. We packed up our things in an unhurried fashion, after which Bluebird treated us to an excellent egg breakfast with avocado. As the only people with a vehicle were out fishing, we walked up to the entrance of the marina and hitched from there.

As we picked the trail back up, we began to climb at an easy and steady grade. Much of trail here follows old roads, many of which look like they haven’t been used as such in the better part of a century.

The Mazatal mountains being the oldest established wilderness in the state, hold a few very old reminders of the people who once lived there. One night as we set up camp in the pines, in what seemed to be a nice flat confluence of streams in the canyon, Mandalynn stumbled upon an old mine while getting water. As we looked closer we could see the remains of a small mining camp that once existed there…

As we closed in on the northern flanks of the Mazatal range, the trail continued to follow ridge line, but we were climbing and the elevation would show each time we caught a glimpse out to the valleys beyond the mountains. The big climb brought us up to the great Mazatal divide, wapping around Mt. Peeley, one of the more prominent peaks in the range.

Riding the high divide alotted us great views all day. We made our way towards Mazatal peak, a stunningly rugged peak composed of exposed red sandstone that bent and deformed millennia ago under extreme pressure.

We ended our day at one of the few established camps in these hills, albeit a little ways off trail. It was a beautiful old stock camp, perhaps a ranch at one time, several flat acres atop a high a plateau. Big trees, and nice fire rings were abundant, even several large junipers that had cured and fallen – the perfect fire wood. Such things I could not resist, and so for the first time on trail, I built a little fire. It was certainly one of the best camps we’ve had on the trail so far.

It seems that the further we follow the Mazatal divide north, the more erratic and less direct the trail becomes. We hiked up many canyons in the northern range, and while some were quite beautiful, we couldn’t help feeling that there was a more direct route. Perhaps it is because ancient road grades are the only thing that exist in these mountains, trails all erased. For miles and miles we would follow old road grades, for the sake of their existence, despite the fact that it took us a good deal out of the way. However, the hardest part of all was the rocks. Big ones, small ones, sharp ones, dull ones. There is no trail in many places, just rock. As such, we were constantly sliding around, trying not to twist an ankle, or fly face first into the debris ahead.

a rocky road….

As the trail further decayed into a rocky nightmare, temperatures soared on the exposed plateau for all the shade here burned down decades ago. Thankfully water was plentiful until we made our decline to the East Verde River. Here we washed off a week’s worth of sweat, even did some laundry just before the sun set. As quickly as we could, we made camp and built a fire on the north shore, drying our clothes as we enjoyed a delicious quinoa dinner.

In our attempt to beat the heat, we woke up the next day before the sun, smiling with the sounds of YeAAAUu-ing peacocks from the ranch across the river. We decided they sound like giant quail.

We made it out of camp just after the sun broke over the peak, delayed by the thick layer of condensation that coated everything.

We immediately began climbing out of the Verde basin from the time we left camp, and did not stop until the late afternoon. With fresh water sources scarce, we opted to carry everything we needed for the day from the Verde River.

The trail in this section was one of the most difficult we have encountered yet. Steep grades combined with miles and miles of tumbled volcanic ball bearings that slide with every step. It was a painfully slow day, and we had to work diligently for every mile.

la mariposa, the lily of the desert

After a long day, hot in sun and sore in the feet, we came upon Pine Creek where we battened down for the night. We slept poorly, and awoke at twilight to an angry horse stomping around, huffing and puffing about our camp. Evidently we were in his pasture and he didn’t know what we were; after all we certainly don’t smell human! As more horses began to appear out of nowhere, we decided to give up on sleep, and walked into the town of Pine where we caught the morning special at the Early Bird Cafe.

It has been a long couple weeks but we have finally made our way across the central highlands of the state, composed of the the Superstition and Mazatal mountains. As we leave Pine, we will soon climb the Mogollon rim, the great escarpment that cuts throguh the southwest and defines the Colorado Plateau. Next stop is Flagstaff!

Cheers from the trail!

Stump & Mandalynn