Mogollon Rim, here we come!
Hiking Central Arizona (Kiefer) describes the trail as being 2.2 miles
long, climbing 1300 feet (6400 to 7700 feet) to the top of the Mogollon Rim
from a trailhead behind the last building of the fish hatchery at Tonto Creek.
However, this information appears to be outdated, as we found a new trailhead
barely 20 feet past the sign at the entrance to the hatchery.
A sign at this trailhead indicated a distance of 3 miles to Rim Road (300),
which is some distance past the 2.2 mile mark measured from the old trailhead.
I estimate, therefore, a trail length from the new trailhead of about 2.5
miles, though it seemed barely 2 miles to me.
This must be what they mean by “your milage may vary”.
Anyway, this time I at least remembered my faithful, reasonably-well-broken-in
hiking boots, the ones I left sitting in my garage with two fresh coats of
silicone when I went to Mt.
Whitney.
The comfortable looseness of their fit has caused me to revise my estimate
for the ones I wore at Whitney from a half-size too small to a full size
too small!
We hit the trail at 7:45 am.
There was only one other car in the lot when he arrived.
The trail winds up the Rim through the eastern edge of the vast region
devastated eight years ago in the Dude Fire, which consumed a 21-mile
stretch of Rim forest.
The lower part of the trail meanders under moderate tree cover through
almost waist-high grass.
The trail is almost invisible at times through the grass, but still easy to
follow if you lead with your stick – advisable anyway in tall grass.
The grass is very soft, too, and feels cool and comfortable on your legs
on a warm day like this one.
Watch out for small log steps hidden under the grass.
The grass becomes more occasional and less dense after the first half
mile, as you enter the fire zone and the trail becomes a somewhat steeper
walk through rock and sun-baked soil.
Innumerable lifeless, often coal-black hulks of trees still stand in
various states of intactness, plus many more rotting on the ground,
bearing testimony to the total immolation that occurred here in 1990.
Nonetheless recovery is well under way, with Manzanita growing like
wildfire everywhere, and Oak saplings and Hackberry coming back strong
as well.
There were a few junipers scattered here and there, apparently
recovering much more slowly than the others, and I don’t recall
seeing any pines coming up at all.
With so little shade and temps rising into the mid-eighties, it got
pretty warm on the Eastward-facing slope which the trail climbs in
lazy switchbacks, but compared to a long Phoenix Summer, it was quite
bearable.
The trail is a bit indistinct for much of its length, but still easy
to follow, and marked every so often by sometimes ridiculously large
cairns.
It gets more rocky as you climb, passing through several bands of
sedimentary rock along the way.
The footing is a bit loose in places, but John did it in ordinary
sneakers and had no trouble at all.
The views are excellent almost the whole way due to the lack of tree
cover; there are several good views looking down on the fish hatchery.
Rolling hills can be seen for 30 miles or more to the South, with the
Rim looming a thousand feet high to the North and East.
The rising sun added to the effect, casting ever-changing shadows into
the steep fissures and ragged alcoves of the Rim’s crumbly
sedimentary slopes.
After a little over an hour, we were getting close to the top.
About 200 feet below the Rim we ran across a rattlesnake curled up in
a little cubbyhole between three rocks on the uphill side of the trail.
Remembering Jim Johnson’s presentation of hiking safety and medical
practices from the August MHC meeting, we backed up and skirted around
his location about a foot outside the trail, as far as we could get
without plunging down the steep slope into the valley below.
That gave us the recommended four feet; and indeed, Mr.
Snake looked pretty happy in there, and from his silence appeared
satisfied with the distance we were giving him.
Five yards past the spot we set a perfectly rectangular cobble upright
on a flat rock to mark the spot coming down.
I led with my stick the rest of the way, tapping out a constant warning
of our approach; for the upper part of the trail was littered with
loose rock, some natural and some piled up to mark the trail boundary.
It occurred to me that in snake country it’s not such a good
idea after all to build loose rock walls along the edge of the trail!
Fortunately, we didn’t encounter any more snakes.
There were lots of lizards, though, and LOTS of bumblebees.
Every hackberry had its compliment of busy bees.
Fortunately these giant fuzzballs are relatively docile creatures,
unlike the wasps we occasionally spotted.
Finally we climbed up on a gently sloping, grassy, rock-strewn plain,
where the trail pretty much petered out.
Since we were obviously on top of the rim, we decided to call it the
end of the trail.
We would have gained a few dozen more feet if we had kept going, but
would have lost much of the spectacular view around us in the process.
We sat down in the shade of a dead tree (the fire had burned most of
the trees on top of the Rim as well) to rest and have some lunch.
The trip up had taken just over an hour.
We had the whole area to ourselves – the promontory on which
we sat and the steep canyons on either side.
We had noted several sets of footprints on the trail going up; it
had rained Friday night but not Saturday, so we didn’t know
if they were fresh or from the day before.
After about half an hour, eating our lunch and watching a bald eagle
gliding noiselessly overhead on the vertical currents blowing up
from the plain below, we packed in our trash and headed back down.
Mr.
Snake was still in his cubbyhole when we passed by, but as we
stayed on the outside of the trail again, he let us pass without
a warning.
I again led with my stick the whole way, so the walk down took a
leisurely 40 minutes.
Halfway down, we passed by a half dozen or so people and two dogs
heading up in three separate groups.
A bit of a late start, we thought, especially on a warm day during
monsoon season; but the weather was still good, with just a few
light clouds starting to build up atop the Rim.
We could also see visitors arriving in the fish hatchery below.
We got back to the trailhead at just before 10:00, the shade of
the trees and the soft grass cooling us down nicely from the hike.
While my normal hiking target is mountains, I would rate this as
an excellent hike of moderate difficulty.
At lower elevations and without the snake, it would be a good
family hike in cool weather.
The views and the isolation are excellent, though this is paid
for to some extent by moderate exposure and the lack of shade.
I highly recommend this trail if you are going to be up in the
Rim area.
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