Globe definitely won the "best marketing" award of all the towns we passed through on this trip. It was fantastic to photograph.
Rolling out of Globe early on our second day of running the Arizona Backcountry Discovery Route (BDR), we were once again on - you guessed it - pavement! This was quickly getting old - as we sped north at speeds we rarely encounter on our adventures - and by now we were pretty sure that the AZBDR wouldn't be climbing to the top of our "favorite BDR" list unless something changed dramatically, and quickly.
AZ-288 (the Globe-Young Highway) was beautiful, but it's hard to describe it as "backcountry."
Crossing over the mouth of the Salt River as it entered Roosevelt Lake.
Pavement wouldn't last forever, but even as we transitioned off of the Globe-Young Highway to dirt, there wasn't any question that we were going to continue running at speeds way above those to which we were accustomed. Still, it was fun to be in forests of Saguaro, a sight that's still novel to those of us who don't spend much time in the Sonoran Desert.
Arizona is so green!
There's always that one weird relative, even when you're a cactus.
How long - we wondered - does it take for a Saguaro forest like this to grow?
The saguaro (Carnegiea gigantea) is a tree-like cactus species that can grow to be over 40 feet tall. It is native to the Sonoran Desert in Arizona, the Mexican state of Sonora, and the Whipple Mountains and Imperial County areas of California. The saguaro blossom is the state wildflower of Arizona.
Saguaros are the largest cactus in the United States and have a relatively long lifespan, often exceeding 150 to 200 years. They may grow their first side arm around 75–100 years of age, but some never grow any arms. Arms are developed to increase the plant's reproductive capacity, as more apices lead to more flowers and fruit.
The growth rate is strongly dependent on precipitation and Safuaroes can hold large amounts of water; when rain is plentiful and a fully grown specimen is fully hydrated, it can weigh between 3,200 and 4,800 lb.
Height Age 6 inches 9 years 1.0 foot 13 5.0 feet 27 10.0 feet 41 20.0 feet 83 25.0 feet 107 30.0 feet 131 35.0 feet 157
After a couple more hours of working our way north - alongside Cherry Creek, just south of the Sierra Ancha Wilderness - we departed the official AZBDR route for a nearby hike that was one of the things I was most looking forward to on this entire adventure.
A three-mile round trip, I'd discovered a place called Devil's Chasm as I mapped out the route. Here, a 1.5-mile trek - 2000 vertical feet up a narrow canyon - would deliver us to the Sierra Ancha Cliff Dwellings, a 20-room structure clinging to the side of towering red vertical walls. It was going to be magical. If we could make it!
I always think of Arizona as being a land of buttes, but we hadn't seen any before working our way up Cherry Creek.
Approaching Devil's Chasm, the road got a little rougher and the views a little more dramatic.
As we rounded a bend in the road, we got our first good look at what 2000 feet of elevation looked like: amazing!
I love signs like this.
It was 12:15pm when we arrived at the trailhead. To our surprise, another truck was already parked there, its occupants - presumably - tackling the same trail we were about to undertake. And so, we set about gathering our things, eating a lunch of trail mix and mandarins, and otherwise completely underpreparing ourselves for what lay ahead.
The hike started off - along a shady forested path - easily enough.
Almost immediately we found ourselves alongside a stream.
For the first mile - and 1,000 vertical feet - our steep-but-still-pleasant trek through the forest continued.
Forty-five minutes after leaving the Tacoma at the trailhead, we broke through the trees to soaring cliffs that we'd caught only glimpses of as we'd snaked our way alongside the creek. The view here was dramatic, each of us finding our mouths agape at the landscape that unfolded above us.
We were both captivated by the beauty and concerned as to what it implied for the remainder of the hike. After all, these were cliff dwellings, and we had just over 1,000 feet of up in the final half-mile of trail. There was going to be a lot of up.
The views of the Sierra Ancha were fantastic, and we hadn't even reached the narrows!
Reflected light radiated down the vertical walls,
A few minutes later, things started to get interesting. And by interesting, I mean more dangerous. This wasn't something I mentioned to @mrs.turbodb - who was already nervous as we took advantage of left-behind-ropes to scale various rock falls - but with water rushing by over slippery smooth granite, one misstep, or a slippery shoe sole, were all that was needed to turn a beautiful situation into one that was much more serious.
As the canyon narrowed, the wow factor increased by many orders of magnitude, and we were suddenly making much slower progress.
Surely, this hike would have been easier without all the water impeding our progress, but it added such a wonderful soundtrack that I'm glad we did this hike at the time of year we did.
At the second - and much sketchier - roped ascent of a fall, it was clear to both of us that this hike was more than we'd expected. Here, @mrs.turbodb was content to stay behind - to enjoy a podcast in the shade of a nearby cottonwood - while I continued onward and upward, to see if I could get a sense for the remainder of the trail.
Even with a rope, the slick wet rock made this a situation that required a careful climb.
Looking back down the canyon, after making my way - solo - another quarter mile.
The cliff dwelling here is truly amazing. Nestled into the rock, it was almost invisible. Clinging to the canyon wall, a combination of excitement and questions rushed through my head. Most of all I found myself wondering: Who would go through all the work to build a place like this - so difficult to reach even after construction - as their place to call home? Was this normal for them, and if so, were they just way more of a badass than I can ever hope to be?
Clearly, the answer to that last question - as whoever lived here built the dwelling in the first place - was yes.
Easy to miss, even when you know where to look.
Amazing rockwork.
Side view.
Making my way back to @mrs.turbodb, it'd taken nearly three hours to make the trek - one we agreed was one of the most beautiful we've accomplished in quite some time - up the canyon. Down - as usual - would be much quicker, with only a few stops to capture the wildflowers that lined the trail.
Blue Dick (Dichelostemma capitatum) left. | Western Wallflower (Erysimum capitatum) right.
Back at the Tacoma, we'd not seen the occupant(s) of the Ford Ranger at all. Unsure where they might be, I left them a note on one of my business cards - asking that they shoot me an email so we could chat a bit about the trail. I've still never heard back - hopefully because they'd rather not chat, and not due to some tragedy that occurred in Devil's Chasm!
For us, it was time to move on. First, we'd retrace our steps to FR-202 and the AZBDR, then we'd point ourselves north, toward the next town on our journey: Young.
Initially, the clouds were looking nice in the sky.
The sun was still out as we drew nearer to Sombrero Butte, but we could tell that change was in the air as the clouds were getting significantly darker.
An hour later - as we worked our way into Kacey Forks Canyon and towards Asbestos Spring (what ?!), we started to wonder if we were going to run into rain.
To this point, we'd seen all the usual - for us - four legged creatures. Pronghorn and coyote, wild horses, rabbits of all sizes, and plenty of beefs. Even a wild turkey had crossed our path. And then, hustling across the road, a family of four: javelina! (which, at the time, we thought were wild pigs)
Now we've got all the food groups, @mrs.turbodb exclaimed, as I tumbled out of the truck to try and sneak up on the bacon babies for a photo or two.
Oink oink.
Stand off.
As temperatures dropped and westerly winds picked up, our glances to the storm clouds approaching on the horizon became more frequent. @mrs.turbodb mentioned seeing that there was a 25% chance of rain in Young - now only a handful of miles from our current location as the crows could fly - and we made the decision to pull over to the side of the road to prep an early dinner, just to avoid any chance of being caught in a wet situation should it start raining once we reached camp.
Cresting Middleton Mesa, we initially thought we were driving out of the clouds we'd been racing in the south, the landscape in front of us a little brighter than it'd been a few minutes earlier.
Unfortunately, the situation to our west was looking like a bit wetter than the predicted 25% chance of precipitation.
As we made dinner, it started to snow. Just a light smattering at this point - nothing that caused us to abandon preparation and assembly of our chicken-finger-wraps - but enough that we knew that we'd made the right call. That, and it was getting colder by the minute. Yay!
Dinner consumed and the kitchen stowed in the bed of the Tacoma, it was as though we'd angered the rain gods by robbing them of their ability to soak us as we ate, and almost immediately upon getting underway again, a rain-snow-hail combination began to pelt the landscape.
Still a few miles from Young, it was time to find camp and then decide if we wanted to wait out the storm in the cab or get a good night sleep and resign ourselves to a wet - and likely frozen - tent in the morning.
It wasn't a question, really, and by 8:30pm - as temperatures dropped to 34°F and there was a breif lull in the storm - we quickly deployed our shelter, brushed our teeth, and climbed into bed.
The following morning...
We awoke to mostly-blue skies ...at least, immediately over our camp site!
We slept reasonably well through the night, the temperature dropping from 34°F when we climbed into the tent to 28°F by the time we climbed out in the morning. That meant - unfortunately - that what had initially fallen (or melted) on the tent as water, froze by the time we wanted to put everything away, making it impractical for us to even attempt drying off the tent before stuffing it into its cover.
A definite problem for future us.
It'd snowed about an inch, but there wasn't much snow around by the time we woke up.
It was just after 7:15am when we rolled out of camp unsure of what would unfold for the remainder of the day. We had but a few miles till the end of Stage 3, and those passed quickly as we traversed the rolling hills and valleys of Graveyard and Deadman Canyons, on our way to the eastern edge of Young.
Snow on the red rock mesas was looking smart in the early morning sun.
To our north, the last of the storm seemed to be blowing itself out.
With the generally-well-graded roads now a bit muddier from all the rain, it was nice to find an undercarriage wash just before we hit pavement in the outskirts of Young.
As the tires hit pavement, it was time to start thinking about Stage 4. Climbing - and then traversing - the Mogollon Rim, this was where satellite imagery - which I'd been watching on a daily basis for several weeks prior to our departure - suggested that 5-19" of snow still blanketed the ground.
Still, my copilot - having spent the last half hour looking through the road conditions page for the Coconino National Forest - thought we stood a chance, at least in part. About half of the route, she said, was paved - something we suddenly found ourselves thankful for - so we might be able to at least "do that part, and then backtrack and re-route around the remainder of the stage."
And so, we set about airing up for what we figured would be a day full of pavement. We weren't wrong, mostly.
It's not often we air up in the middle of a BDR, but that's exactly what we did at the end of Stage 3.
Mexico to Benson - Unusual Encounters | AZBDR Stage 1 - Prologue Running a BDR (Backcountry Discovery Route) this year is going to be a little different for us than it has been in years past, for several reasons. First, we'll be exploring a state that - due to its distance from home, or even Las Vegas where the Tacoma is now stored - we've done very little adventuring through. This should be a great thing, as one of the "problems" with the last couple of BDRs we've explored was that we were already reasonably familiar with what we'd encounter, making the trip less exciting. Second, we'll be running the route…
Benson to Globe - Kinda Boring | AZBDR Stage 2 - Having wrapped up Stage 1 of the Arizona Backcountry Discovery Route (BDR) more quickly than we'd anticipated, it was early afternoon as we headed north out of Benson, toward Globe. Having just gorged ourselves on Wendy's, we weren't in any position to stop at the shop directly below this tantalizing sign as we left town. While unexpected, we were both glad that things were working out this way. We've found it much more pleasant to end a day halfway through a stage - rather than at the end/beginning of one - in order to find somewhere to setup camp and…
Globe to Young - Take a Hike | AZBDR Stage 3 - Globe definitely won the "best marketing" award of all the towns we passed through on this trip. It was fantastic to photograph. Rolling out of Globe early on our second day of running the Arizona Backcountry Discovery Route (BDR), we were once again on - you guessed it - pavement! This was quickly getting old - as we sped north at speeds we rarely encounter on our adventures - and by now we were pretty sure that the AZBDR wouldn't be climbing to the top of our "favorite BDR" list unless something changed dramatically, and quickly. AZ-288 (the Globe-Young Highway)…
Young to Winona - The Mogollon Rim is Closed | AZBDR Stage 4 - As our tires hit pavement in the outskirts of Young, it was time to start thinking about Stage 4. Climbing - and then traversing the Mogollon Rim - this was where satellite imagery, which I'd been watching on a daily basis for several weeks prior to our departure, suggested that 5-19" of snow still blanketed the ground. This didn't look promising. Still, my copilot - having spent the last half hour looking through the road conditions page for the Coconino National Forest - thought we stood a chance, at least in part. Though she confirmed closure of the Forest Service…
Winona to Cameron - Volcanoes, Pueblos, and a Grand Canyon | AZBDR Stage 5 - Having "wrapped up" (and by that I mean, essentially, skipped) Stage 4 of the AZBDR in a little under six hours, it was just after 3:30pm when we set out from Winona in search of open roads. The elevations here were nearly as high as those on the Mogollon Rim, so I was a little worried that we'd soon find ourselves blocked by snow, but @mrs.turbodb was reasonably confident that we'd be just fine. As usual, she was right. The snowy San Fransisco Mountains would provide a familiar - and beautiful - backdrop for much of this stage. For the…
Cameron to Utah - The Best for Last | AZBDR Stage 6 - A quick recap... We knew even before starting the AZBDR that we'd need a permit to cross the Navajo Nation, and we knew we could conveniently pick up the permit just outside of Cameron, AZ just prior to entering Navajo land. What we didn't know for sure were the hours of the permit office. Knowing that we didn't know, we'd tried calling the permit office earlier in the day - just before visiting Waputki National Monument - thinking that we could pick up our permit well before the office closed for the day. However, when no one answered the phone,…
Underwhelming | AZBDR Epilogue - The Arizona Backcountry Discovery Route (BDR) is the eighth that we've completed in as many years. Through the experience of each one, @mrs.turbodb and I are - as you can imagine - regularly comparing the current BDR to those we've explored in the past and a few years ago I finally started writing some of these comparisons down. Now, naturally, I feel obligated to carry on that tradition into the future. TL;DR - the Arizona BDR is the least technical that we've run, and the vast majority of the route would rank near the bottom of our list of "best…
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Wow, another rare photo, that javelina family. Don't know that they would like being called pigs. 🙂 But I hear they taste like pork only much leaner. 🙂
Great views of the Sierra Ancha Cliff Dwellings, looks in quite good condition. Roping up a wet rock face, pretty badass!
Huh, had never heard of Javelina - thanks for the "intro!" Kinda cool that we found something reasonably rare - I'm sure it would have made it even more exciting at the time (but maybe added additional pressure, so I guess I'm glad I thought it was "normal").
That hike up Devil's Chasm was amazing. I highly recommend it, even as a standalone trip. Spring is a great time to be there, so water is running in the canyon (I don't know if it totally dries up or not during the summer) because it adds a really nice visual (and audible) element to the hike.
Another interesting adventure but as Skidoo said, that's NOT a pig, it's javelina which is a peccary. Commonly in the S.W., they're wild, considered a "big game" animal and protected in Arizona and it's also illegal to feed them. Many years ago when I was into archery some friends who were hunters would go on javelina hunts (yes, there is a hunting season and you need a hunting license).
Thanks John - always great to learn something new like this. I had no idea that Javelina even existed, and it sounds like (from the little searching I've done for them) that AZ and TX might be the only states in which they roam.
Thanks as always for coming along and providing insights that I've missed or gotten wrong! I love learning more about this stuff!