Wilson Mountain Summit, Red Rock-Secret Mountain Wilderness, December 2011
My sometime hiking buddy and I spent one of the last days of 2011 exploring the upper reaches of Wilson Mountain in the Red Rock - Secret Mountain Wilderness area near Sedona. Wilson is a vast flat-topped mountain that juts out from the Mogollon Rim and forms part of the western wall of the infamous Oak Creek Canyon that is so popular with tourists and daytrippers. The Wilson Mountain Trail begins at the Midgely Bridge on Highway 89A just north of Sedona and climbs up a steep canyon through Pinyon-Juniper woodlands onto a high "bench" before switchbacking another thousand feet to the top of the mountain and spectacular 360-degree views.
Wilson Mountain Trail is one of the most popular trails on the Red Rock district, which is why I've been avoiding it for all these years. I think Wilson Mountain fills much the same role for Sedona as Mount Elden does in Flagstaff: It has a difficult trail on it with reasonably good parking and it's close to town, so trail runners and tourists flock to it. The day we went there weren't many other hikers due to the mud and snow above the first bench, but I suppose at more favorable times of the year the chances of having an actual wilderness experience up there are pretty slim.
Wilson Mountain, Red Rock-Secret Mountain Wilderness, December 2011
The human-caused Brins Mesa Fire of June, 2006 slicked off much of the Ponderosa and Douglas fir forest on top of the mountain, leaving behind a wasteland of charred trunks, parallel logs, and clusters of rampaging Gambel oak and thorn bushes. Not all of the trees are gone, but it was still a pretty serious fire. In the future I think the top of Wilson will have large grassy meadows, a lot more Alligator juniper, and patches of beautiful oak forest with all the associated wildlife and birds that go along with that. But for now the mountain is still sorting out the aftereffects of the fire, so be prepared for the shock of seeing plenty of dead trees up there.
Wilson Mountain, Red Rock-Secret Mountain Wilderness, December 2011
Because of the snow - quite deep in places - we had to posthole much of the way to the summit where we could look out over Oak Creek Canyon and back towards Flagstaff. We ate our lunches perched on a log, suspended mere feet from the edge and screaming weightlessness. I admired the view of the San Francisco Peaks, some thirty miles to the north, while shots of adrenaline spiked my peanut butter and jelly sandwich with blue electricity. In hindsight I probably wouldn't have chosen that spot for my lunch had I been hiking solo, which just goes to show that having a partner along with you doesn't necessarily make you safer.
San Francisco Peaks from Wilson Mountain, Red Rock-Secret Mountain Wilderness, December 2011
Hours later and a thousand feet lower on the first bench we stopped among a stand of Alligator juniper and spiny agave. Before our eyes the glaring bright afternoon sun slowly transformed the patchy snow into sticky clay and trickling rivulets, the trail vanishing beneath a quagmire of mud and ten-pound platform shoes. While we were sitting there discussing some philosophical question - perhaps the relative impacts of primitive societies on the environment versus contemporary ones - a pair of tattooed hikers approached us to ask directions to the summit.
Wilson Mountain, Red Rock-Secret Mountain Wilderness, December 2011
They were wearing thin summer-weight clothing, running shoes, and had no visible cold weather gear along with them. We cautioned them about the steep, icy trail and the deep snow above, yet incredibly they continued on. Dressed like that and with only a couple hours of good daylight remaining it was dangerous for them to do so. They were so confident and so utterly clueless that I doubt we could've worded a warning strong enough to dissuade them from their late afternoon summit fever.
I guess we all have to learn our own lessons.
I've met people like that out on the trails, cluless; they're the kind you hear about on the news. They have no respect for Nature, which can turn from gentle mother to monster bitch in mere moments. Guess that's what natural selection is for, eh?
Posted by: Brandon | January 11, 2012 at 01:33 PM
Yep, you've got it, respect is the key. Usually that "respect" is as simple as taking a little extra water or one of those little LED headlamps along with you on your hike. Not a hard thing to do and will keep you off the evening news. Other times respect is knowing when to stay home because the weather's in a fickle mood, but that's a bit more difficult and comes only with experience.
Posted by: del | January 12, 2012 at 11:07 AM