Adventures from Arizona to Alberta
As we all know, the New Year is a time for reflection—a time for pulling out that list (from last year) full of want-to-dos and need-to-dos. In our household, celebratory lethargy has set in, thanks to bowl games accompanied by lots of food and drink.
What draws so many to this mountain? Maybe it's because it is a Phoenix landmark and bucket list item for a city hike. Perhaps it's the challenge of making it to the top along with the 360° views.
It's all of the above. Around 450,000 hike the Cholla or Echo Canyon trail every year.
You'll find the trails in the Camelback Mountain Echo Canyon Recreation Area between the Arcadia neighborhood of Phoenix and the town of Paradise Valley. Although the fight to preserve this area started as early as 1910, it wasn't until 1965 when Barry Goldwater took up the cause and helped stop further development in the mountain's higher elevation. It became a Phoenix city park in 1968.
A walk up Cholla Lane leads to the trailhead.
This past Monday, Dave and I decided to challenge ourselves and hike up the Cholla Trail. The last time we made the trek was back in 2016 to see the controversial Christmas tree—a tradition started seven years ago by a fellow named John Cressey. Many complained that it violates the "leave no trace" policy of the park service, while others have accused the city of being a Grinch. The tradition continues to find a way to survive within strict boundaries.
Thanks to an early start and a weekday morning, we were able to park relatively close by. For the Cholla trail, parking is located only in designated areas along Invergordon. Be prepared to walk up to a mile to reach the trailhead.
Parking along Invergordon.
The temperature was a perfect 45°, and miraculously, it did not become crowded until our descent. But it was steep—about a mile and a half and 1,500 feet of elevation to the top.
Hiking towards the helicopter pad.
We were treated to spectacular city views, thanks to a cold front that had pushed through the day before.
Papago Buttes in the distance.
A downtown viewpoint.
My favorite part of the hike was the portion just beyond the helicopter rescue pad. It consisted of scaling boulders by following a trail of blue reflective markers — kind of like solving a puzzle, only scarier. Our adrenaline was riding way too high to even think about fatigue.
It is a long way down from here.
Once at the top, we joined hikers from the Echo Canyon side, to visit and gaze at the valley below. We also saw a pro athlete doing a motivational video blog that was quite inspiring.
But where was the tree? A half-eaten ornament was all we saw. Leave no trace.
Fear not my friends. Kris Kringle and his tree will be at the summit from Dec. 21-25, for photos and holiday cheer. This year the tree is dedicated to veterans who have PTSD. If you decide to go, feel free to bring a birdseed ornament to hang for someone you love.
Happy Holidays from AZtoAB!
What is one of the worst things that can happen to a home baker during the holidays? The oven goes out. That’s right. What started with a dry Thanksgiving turkey ended with an error code. Wait, it gets better. We spent Monday afternoon in the ER after I took a tumble jogging with Lucia. No worries, just an enormous holiday shiner to contend with along with a bruised ego.
Holidays and hiking go together. Every winter, clear blue skies, and warm sunshine beckon all who wish to enjoy the desert in all its glory. It is just way too perfect for staying indoors.
I must say, our timing was impeccable. The forecast called for rain. Not just a drizzle mind you, a downpour, full of raging washes, flooded interstates, and general mayhem. With the prospect of three days of flash flood watches rapidly approaching, Dave and I decided to enjoy the sunrise with a view of Phoenix from South Mountain Park, followed by an early morning hike.
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.
There’s an infamous bar located in the Buckskin Mountains just outside Parker, Arizona. It is only open on weekends, from the end of September through the end of April. Dave and I were intrigued by the remoteness—it existed at the end of a 5-mile stretch of desert road. How far was it from Phoenix? Just about three hours. Geez.
I have to be frank. The drive from Phoenix to Quartzite exit was a whole lot of nothing. Miles upon miles of flat, barren land. We fervently hoped that this place was worth the effort.
RV and campground, Quartzite, AZ.
The original bar.(Photo: Scott Craven/The Republic)
Now, for a little history. In 1974, a young Wisconsinite by the name of Ken Coughlin sought a better life (as in partying) in Southern California. A trip to Parker, Arizona, changed his mind and sparked his entrepreneurial spirit. He settled along the Colorado River and leased a snack stand. But bigger plans were on the horizon. How about a building bar smack dab in the middle of the desert? If you build it, they will come. After purchasing a parcel of public land sight unseen, The Nellie E Saloon (a.k.a The Desert Bar) was born.
The bar, present day.
We arrived in Parker just before noon and took a detour to see the Colorado River. In the fall, RV-ers flock to enjoy the temperate winter climate and outdoor activities. There were more ATV trails around there than spines on a cactus.
Life along the Colorado River, Parker AZ.
After passing several Trump 2020 water tanks, we found the turnoff and headed down the five mile gravel road. Several ATVs zipped by us — this was a road built for off-roaders.
The road to The Desert Bar.
ATV parking.
The Desert Bar was expansive and built for the climate—complete with solar panels.
There are multiple levels to wander through.
Rustic charm.
The crowd was mellow, and the band played tunes from Lynyrd Skynyrd and the Eagles. The food was tasty and the beer was cold.
Real people enjoying real music.
A strange metallic chapel rose from beyond the parking area—just for the hell of it.
Event Chapel.
A scenic view from the gravel road, as we departed.
Did I mention how long a drive it was? Somebody out there should build a bar in the desert, just outside Phoenix. There’s plenty of space.
The icing on the cake. That was the best description I could think of to describe our visit to Antelope Canyon X after our Wave adventure. How about a slot canyon tour that is not crowded, rushed, and allows plenty of time to absorb your surroundings? Bingo.
The Wave is an other-worldly desert phenomenon located in Coyote Buttes North, about 44 miles from Page, Arizona. It was a hidden treasure coveted mostly by locals until July 22, 2009, when Microsoft featured it as their Windows 7 desktop wallpaper. The Waves popularity grew exponentially, making it a much sought after destination. Unfortunately, nowadays, it is challenging to get a permit to visit. You have to win the lottery—the online lottery for Coyote Buttes North, that is.
It was September 26th, and snow was in the forecast. Not a dusting of snow, mind you, a full-fledged blizzard. Just our luck— we were departing on the 29th, before sunrise. Maybe it won’t stick, I thought hopefully. Think again.
Seasons change so quickly here. Everything seems accelerated. This past summer has been chilly and inclement, with hints of an upcoming winter competing with fall.
Summer is waning, and our hiking days in Canada are numbered. We are three weeks from departure, and Dave is dreaming about Arizona. But who wants to start packing when there is still time to explore?
The summer of 2017 was hot, windy, and dry. Add a lightning strike and a 300-year-old spruce forest to the mix, and you’ve got fire.
sually, when the word sightseeing is used, I’ll turn and run the other way. I know, it’s my problem, but I can’t help thinking of everything associated with it—as in tourists, crowds, lines, etc. So naturally, Dave and I were skeptical of the Banff Sunshine Sightseeing Gondola from the get-go.
This iconic mountain has an illustrious past that hails back to the mining days of the late 1800s. As the story goes, in 1896, a cook for the Canadian Pacific Railway was bet fifty bucks that he could not summit the Beehive in less than ten hours. He was to plant a flag at the top as proof of his effort. Evidently, they didn’t know how capable Ha Ling was. He left at 7am that Saturday and was back in time for lunch.
In the mid-1980s, Canmore was a sleepy little mountain town in the midst of recreating itself, following the closure of its last remaining coal mine. It was an exciting time. However, it was rumored that the action of one unnamed Canmorite would forever change the landscape of this small town.
The Three Sisters are synonymous with Canmore. Originally named The Three Nuns in 1883, it has been said that George Stewart (the first superintendent of the Rocky Mountains National Park) named the peaks after his three daughters, Frances, Olive, and Grace. The Stoney Nakoda also views these peaks as the three sisters, referring to the story of Ĩ-ktomnĩ, an old man who would promise his three sisters in marriage whenever he got into trouble.
We often share hiking stories with our neighbors, Kirstie, and Kevin. Really, the best way to know what you are getting into is to talk to someone who has done it. And recommends it. This was the case with Healy Pass in Banff National Park.
This is our summer of Kananaskis. We have intentionally avoided the hotspots in Banff National Park to focus on hikes that are much less crowded and every bit as beautiful. Our travel time is a bit longer but well worth the effort.
Dave and I love the Dorrien Smith/Spray Lake Trail. We love to take our friends up the narrow, unpaved road, through all its twists, turns, and drop-offs—just to scare the crap out of them. You can always tell if someone has been there by their white, dust-encrusted vehicle. A right of passage, at least until the next rain.
