Defining anything as winter in the desert can be a bit of a stretch. We do have the occasional freeze, and yes, we have had snow. But this is Arizona’s time to revel—after baking in a convection oven for over five months.

With temps still in the mid-80s in Phoenix, Dave and I decided to travel to colder climes (hahaha). A hike through a forest was well overdue. We settled on Woodchute trail #102, one of only two trails located in the Woodchute Wilderness of Prescott National Forest.

The entrance to the Woodchute Wilderness.

The entrance to the Woodchute Wilderness.

The history of Woodchute Mountain is pretty clear cut (bad pun intended). In the early 1900s, a wood chute was built on the north side of the mountain to deliver wood to the booming mining town of Jerome.

Dave and I wove our way up through a mountain pass of pine and juniper. The well-maintained narrow highway was a veritable maze of hairpin curves and hidden corners.

Highway 89A.

Highway 89A.

Trail #102 was located just off of an unmarked forest road across from the Mingus Recreation area. A fellow with a couple of burros and a car from California helped flag the trailhead.

Enter here.

Enter here.

A walk through the pines.

A walk through the pines.

Our hike was a gradual incline that provided expansive panoramas in every direction. The only mishap of note was my inadvertent detour up a large hill, which I had mistaken for a scenic viewpoint. The actual turnoff was about 50 yards further. Whoops.

An old juniper pine, with the red rocks of Sedona in the distance.

An old juniper pine, with the red rocks of Sedona in the distance.

Sedona Red Rocks and the volcanic San Francisco Peaks—over 50 miles away.

Sedona Red Rocks and the volcanic San Francisco Peaks—over 50 miles away.

Looking back towards Verde Valley.

Looking back towards Verde Valley.

A steep incline to a mesa loomed. That was not to be. Unfortunately, upon arrival we discovered that the camelback (my primary water source) seeped all over the back of the Jeep. Short on water, the dog ate my homework, whatever. We headed back when we reached the creek, about two miles in.

Our turnaround point was quite beautiful.

Our turnaround point was quite beautiful.

There is something to be said about the mountains in Arizona. Desert gives way to forest, and forest to desert, providing unique landscapes that seem to go on and on.


Comment