Our Snowshoe Expedition

01.21.10

With the biggest storm ever to cross Arizona within the history of human recording now bearing down on the state for the last few days, we decided this would be a perfect opportunity to take a vacation.  After all, the roads were sure to be empty... at least what was left of them.  My Dad has some sort of time-share arrangement and this allows a certain amount of points to be used to acquire hotel accommodations both locally and internationally.  We had taken him up on this offer around Valentines of last year, but had some bad luck.  No heat in the room and no hot water on the morning of the last day.  This mishap led to another couple of comped nights which we used for this trip. Sweeeet.

The plan was to make Sedona on Thursday after work.  Heavy rains on that day as well as storms before had saturated the desert and swollen usually dry creeks to their brim.  Every local news station was interrupting regularly scheduled programs with flash flood and even the occasional tornado warnings. Perfect time for an interstate drive!  Before we even made it out of town, we were forced to exit Loop 101 as it had been closed in both directions.  We assumed the four horseman of the apocalypse had arrived and were using the area for staging.  Turns out it was just a massive circus type tent from a local automobile auction that the high winds had separated from the custom cars it was protecting and laid it across all eight lanes of freeway.

Once by the gnarled traffic of this incident and on to I-17, fellow travelers began peeling off in search of shelter.  The rain was very heavy at times and by the exit to Prescott, where I pulled off for some dinner, we were almost the only car on the road.  Me walking into Mc'D's in just a pair of shorts and a T-shirt drew comments from the amused employee and solitary local customer inside.

"You must be from Phoenix." they almost stated in unison.

Then, with my best Bill Murray impersonation I stated...

"I don't think the heavy stuff is gonna come down for a while."

At least, that's what I thought about staying.  Instead,  I just ordered a couple of hamburgers while Micki used the loo.

We made it to Sedona pretty easily from there.  Switched off I-17 at Verde Valley due to the possible road closure North and came through Cottonwood instead.  Checked in and hit the hay.

01.22.10


Next morning we awoke to a gray day, but no snow on the ground outside. The room was nice with a fireplace, TV in living and bedroom and heat that actually worked.

Our room:

View from front entry:

With no nearby powder to be seen, we decided to make our way over to the darkness that had obscured the Mingus Mountains completely. Some wet roads along the way, but no white stuff until we made it through Jerome. Then it began to fall pretty hard.

A little plow help please:

  

  
Cautiously, we made it along the winding mountain roads to the summit.  There was endless snow to play in, but no place to park.  A few 4x4's were able to get over the berm created by the previous passes of the plow, but the HiHy was just a little to low.  Frustrated, we headed back down a ways and found a spot just wide enough in the road to be able to work our way out of traffic.  While we suited up and figured out our snow shoes, the plow driver stopped by to check and see if we were all right.  He said he'd watch out for our vehicle on his next pass, which gave me some assurance that we wouldn't return after our hike to a car sealed deep within a frozen bank of snow.

We found what looked like a road leaving the asphalt and started to stomp through the powder.  I'd guess it was 3 or 4 feet deep. There was a minimal wind and all those countless crystals had just been stacking themselves up on any flat surface they could find for days.  Undistrubed before we arrived, the virgin snow was impressively beautiful in it's artistic solitude.

Pristine:

Micki getting her snow legs:

At least knee deep without the shoes:

Snow starting to fall:

Single-tracks:

We wandered around under the trees for about an hour.  The shoes were working great at keeping us afloat.  Actually, I think we both were enjoying them more than we thought.  The wind started to pick up a bit and we ended our loop with a short climb back up to the car.

Blowing snow creates a wicked Popeye impression:

Once the HiHy heated up and I could see out the front window we began our retreat.  The snow was coming down pretty hard now and the U-turn was a bit problematic. Slipping and sliding, we finally got pointed in the right direction.  With really no sign of plow work, driving was difficult. I chose poorly to avoid a large chunk of ice in our lane and the off camber section of road took over, sending us sliding towards a Jeep coming up in the other direction. With millimeters to spare, we both kept in our lanes and the dashboard lit up like a Christmas tree as alarm bells started to chime.  I think the ABS and traction control were trying to tell me something, but I couldn't really focus as my white knuckles crushed the steering wheel.

I am not sure if the 4Runner would have made for a better choice at this moment, but at least if I hit something in that vehicle I could bounce or at least bite back with little regard to paint or body damage.  With even greater caution and far less speed... we slowly crept down to Jerome.  The place was a true ghost town, but I just had to snap a pic of this forgotten motorcycle parked off to the left.  With a very light application of the brakes, I decided I'd perform a gentle and controlled stop.  This assumption was dead wrong however, and instead we took about a 15' sled ride with a little slide to the left.

Stylish?  For sure.

Safe and in control?  For sure not.

Worth the scare?:

All-righty then... I was guessing I'd have to substantially up my driving game.

Minimal throttle, no wheel spin and we were off.  Creeping along now the mood was quiet as the next steep downhill approached.  With almost undetectable effort I gingerly applied the brakes.  I was pretty impressed with my technique until I noticed we were sliding once again.  I turned left, then right, then straight with absolutely no noticeable change in direction.  I even had time to ask Micki for help, but none was offered.  I think we were both a little dumbstruck as we skated down the street with parked cars just inches away from us on either side and a intersection fast approaching. With ABS systems clicking away and strange tapping noises coming from beneath the hood, all we could do was hope for the best. Miraculously, there were no cars approaching, and even better... a slight uphill existed before the pitiful ancient guardrail had to catch us.

Nice.  A kind of perfect yet totally unplanned stop, just a few feet short of disaster.

I just had to make it about another mile and we'd be out of the icy trap Jerome had laid for us. Moving now at a pace most likely imperceptible to the human eye, I rounded the next corner.  I observed pretty flashing lights.  Falling back on my incredibly adept driving instincts, I deduced that this meant a cop car had parked to prevent others from crashing into the accident laying just out of sight.

"How professional."  I thought to myself as I began to notice the HiHy once again sliding out of control right towards this public servant vehicle's bumper.

Guardrail and sidewalk to the left, shiny police car to the right and only a narrow margin between the two. I foolishly aimed for the middle.  Foolishly because I actually still believed I had some sort of control over the vehicle we were in.  Honestly, we'd have had just about as much luck missing everything if we had both jumped into the back seat and just hoped for the best.  Somehow, we stopped without even a ding.  I could tell by the cop's face as he walked back up the hill that he was just as surprised as we were. With his instruction, we pulled over and waited for the plow truck to clear and salt the roads.

A gentleman with a Ford Superduty truck with massive camper shell mounted in the bed who had paid for 5 mile per gallon tank fill-ups on his road trip up until now also waited on the road below.  He was going to be damned if he had to wait for such assistance.  He slowly crawled up the hill and was away before the rolling shovel arrived.  Next was a late 80's full conversion van. Obviously he had assessed the Ford's success was not due to it's 4WD capability... but instead from it's domestic V-8 power-plant. With that belief festering in his mind, he decided to give climbing the hill a try as well. I must admit, it was pretty cool to see him do a burnout for the entire length of the slope.  With his rear wheels spinning at 60, he crawled up the hill no faster than 2.  But... he did make it.

A little while later the plow came through and we were free from the icy grips of Jerome.  With the easy drive to Cottonwood we picked up a Papa Murphy's pizza for baking at the condo.  After a big lunch and a small nap, we headed back out to see what this storm had done to the town of Sedona.  We tried to drive up Oak Creek Canyon, but the road was closed just feet past downtown. The snow was clinging to the red cliffs and the clouds hugged low into the valleys. We decided just to cruise around and see what we might see.

Sedona at it's finest:

"Dry Creek" ... not so much:

Micki's super boots:

We then got some soup, cornbread and chocolate cake from Safeway.  Sedona is always a strangish mix between small town, big city and just plain crazy.  Here is a sample snippet of a conversation we caught just leaving the store:

Odd man one

"I thought Roswell was in New Mexico, not Arizona."

Odd man two

"It was, but they changed their landing area."

Odd man one

"Oohhhhh, that makes sense."

Very interesting.  Anyway, we rented a movie and then called it a day back at the condo.

01.23.10

In the morning, there actually was a small amount of snow on the patio handrail and car. We packed up and decided to give Oak Creek one more try.  No dice, still closed.  With a small amount of nervous hesitation after yesterday's driving experience, we decided to give Mingus one more attempt. It was dumping and the skies were pitch black just outside of Cottonwood.  A mix of heavy rain and snow.  The mountains ahead had all but disappeared into the clouds. As we climbed, the treachery of Jerome got closer and closer.  Much to our surprise and enjoyment, the plows had been very busy throughout the night and the roads were all but clear.  We practically zoomed up to the summit and even though we found a crowd of sledders, there was enough groomed parking to find a place off the road.  We suited up and just starting stomping through the powder.

Deer tracks?:

Elk maybe?:

Uber deep "Pow Pow":

Picnic anyone?:

Fresh double-track:

Matching Micki:

Cacti:

We hiked around for about and hour and a half.  Made our way through the empty Potato Patch campground and then up to the Woodchute Trailhead.  A majority of the route was untouched by human, or any soul for that matter.  The snow began to fall very lightly and the soft crunch of fresh snow was emanating from our footsteps.  Very peaceful and hard to imagine strapping something like a refined tennis racket to ones feet could create such an enjoyable experience. Back at the car, the road was stuffed with fellow snow tourists parking in every legal and rule bending configuration possible. The plows were keeping busy and the drive back to Jerome was very traction filled and relaxing this time.

Heavy storms rolling in the valley below:

 

In town:

Tummies growling now, we stopped in Jerome for some well deserved Mexican fuel.  I had spotted a place that looked promising out of the corner of my wide open eyes during one of the slides down the hill yesterday... so we thought we'd check it out.

External destination:

Internal decoration:

Rewarding compilation:

I chose the smothered burrito and Micki went with the taco plate.  Both were huge, well made with just the right amount of spice and taste. Basically, this place rocks!!  Awesome food, good pricing and right on main street.  We will definitely be back again.

Quince Grill and Cantina

After lunch, we splurged on some fudge and then headed back to Scottsdale. Almost all the creeks along the way were still rushing.  New River was bank to bank and we could see some massive waterfalls at the base of the Bradshaw's just before dropping down from Sunset point. It was nice to get out and truly enjoy the "storm of the century".  Would have been a shame to miss it from town, so we were glad my days off happened to come when they did.  Snowshoe-ing was a blast that we are sure to try again when the opportunity presents itself.  Mind you, our home in the "Valley of the Sun" will generally keep this new gear out of commission... but there are supposed to be a few more storms yet to come.

A little video wrap-up:

Snowshoe from Elvota on Vimeo.