Tuesday, June 22, 2010

We had a great weekend!  On our recent days off, we'd done a great deal--too much--driving so we decided to stay on the Plateau and hike close to home.  The weekend got off to a nice start with dinner at the Kaibab Lodge across the road. 

 Sunday was the day for exploring Tater Canyon, which extends north of our location.  Maps don't accurately show roads and trails in that area so we had to invent a route.  After four or five miles on gravel roads, we headed cross-country through the forest toward Route 67 in order to return.  Along the way, we picked up dozens of stones that looked like arrowheads, at least on the ground, with no success.  Walking in the meadow that parallels the highway (a surface much rougher than its benign appearance), Fred found an arrow with razor-sharp blades.  We laughed about being granted the wish of finding not only an arrowhead but an entire arrow!  A short distance farther, I found a second arrow, also with a razorblade point.  Within sight of our RV, while walking in a run-off ditch, I found a Native American arrowhead.  Its point is broken but it's an authentic artifact created by the Plateau's past inhabitants.

Our plan for yesterday was to hike Cliff Springs trail in the park.  At the start of the trail is an Indian granary where crops raised at Walhalla were stored.  The 'springs'--actually a seep--is about half a mile from the trailhead.  The steepest stretch of the trail has been relocated to make the descent less treacherous.  Last winter's heavier than normal snowfall has produced a greater variety wildflowers in the drainage field than we found there in 2007. 

Most people turn around at the springs but we continued on, following an unmaintained path that's more track than trail.  About midway along, we looked down the side canyon and south across the main canyon toward the San Francisco Peaks.  East of Humphreys Peak (over 12,000' high) was a massive cloud of smoke billowing from the four wildfires around Flagstaff.  Beautiful but sad.

After a good deal of scrambling and slipping and sweating, we reached the end.  And it truly is THE END:  the trail terminates on steep slickrock at a  slide-thousands-of-feet-to-your-death angle.  There we took some pictures, explored a bit, ate lunch in the meager shade and then headed back. 

We'd gotten almost as far as the springs when Fred realized his camera was missing from its case at his waist.  The last time he'd used it was way out there at the end.  No choice but to retrace our route, checking the trail, the bushes and that slope down-down-down.  We inspected every inch in both directions with no luck.  As we approached the spot where Fred noticed the camera was gone, he spotted it.  See the picture to solve 'the mystery of the missing camera'.

We rewarded ourselves with soft-serve ice cream (very expensive but not very good) at the Deli, did some shopping for the grandkids and came home.

P.S.  Mouse fatalities have risen to three.