Workman Creek

Weather:  78º, sunny

About this Hike:  Thanks to an Instagram ad, I was inspired to check out Workman Creek in the Sierra Ancha Wilderness. Both Salome and Sierra Ancha wilderness areas have piqued my interest, as they are a part of Tonto National Forest I've yet to explore. So many times from Roosevelt Lake I've gazed up into the Salome Wilderness, but I had yet to visit this area.

I left Payson early and opted to drive through Young to pick up AZ-288, also known as Desert to Tall Pines Scenic Byway. Despite being a state highway, I always thought 288 was dirt. Portions of it are dirt, but more of it is paved than I realized. Watch the pavement just south of Young. It's full of crater-sized potholes. The prudent driver won't speed in here lest they bend a rim, blow a tire, etc. 

The Workman Creek Recreation Area begins where FR-487 turns off from 288. There is a developed youth camp back in a mile or so. However, 487 is not a great road. It's narrow and rocky. It gets steeper and eventually becomes a shelf road with make-shift barriers on only the steepest sections. A narrow, rickety bridge traverses a fissure in the canyon. A sign advertises it's weight limit at eight tons. Needless to say, this one frayed my nerves a bit, even with a 4x4 high clearance truck.

The drive initially parallels Workman Creek. The canyon is full of bigtooth maples. As I drove further up, the fall colors became more and more vibrant. Since this was a fall color outing, my plan was to explore the creek area more on the way back down. There's also supposed to be a waterfall that I wanted to check out. 

I reached the parking area at Abby's Way Trailhead. Sufficiently tired of the road, I opted to park here, have a picnic lunch, and then set out to hike Abby's Way. A reasonably short hike leads to the summit of Aztec Peak. Even from the trailhead the Aztec Peak fire lookout is visible. The trail started out well enough. Signage looked to be fairly new. Large cairins led the way, although the trail didn't come close to aligning with the All Trails map. 

I didn't get far. The trail vanished. I went in every direction. A pile of rocks indicated it had been a cairin at one time, and so I used this as a guide. It was to no avail. I'll never understand how you can go from blazed trail and fresh footprints to nothing in a single step. 

I was wandering thru a meadow of dried grasses with a few stands of ponderosa nearby. I gave up and returned to the trailhead. 

My next plan was to explore Rim Trail 139. I opted to walk about a half mile along the road to the trailhead. Rim Trail started off OK, but quickly became overgrown. The foliage and views weren't so different from what you can find in the Mazatzals—an arid landscape of dried grasses, catclaw, and gamble oak. I turned back again.

As I walked the road, I noticed it changed. Gone were rocky sections and pot holes. It was hard-pack dirt. I grabbed the truck and decided to drive the ~two miles up to the base of Aztec Peak. I parked at the base and hiked up the road. There was a lot of traffic coming and going, and my truck was all but in the way, precariously parked to the side of the road at the base of the mountain. 

I enjoyed the sweeping panoramic views at the top of Aztec. I made note of where Abby's Way trail reaches the top of the mountain. And then I turned back. 

My next step was Moody Point Trailhead. The Forest Service has constructed a newer cabin near this trailhead. A lone Jeep in the parking area made me think Moody's was worth checking out. The trail itself recently got some maintenance and was in the best shape of all the trails I hiked today. It was still sorely misaligned with the All Trails map. A fire scorched this area decades ago. I read this could have something to do with trails having been realigned afterward. 

In fact, the ecosystem along Moody became boring. Long gone were the old-growth pines. A few charred stumps are all that remain. Gamble oak, grasses, and ferns have taken over this ecosystem, and for some time, too. The gamble oak are pretty tall and create a thick canopy. While oak can be pretty in fall, many times they just turn brown. All the ferns are brown and dead, as are the grasses. And so despite the good trail condition, I opted to turn back after a short hike. There was nothing scenic here, and eventually Moody would run into Rim Trail (assuming the map was somewhat correct). In theory you could do these as a loop using a segment of FR-487 to close the loop.

At this point, I was done attempting to find a good day hike in the Workman Creek area. I opted to head down the mountain. As is often the case, the road didn't seem nearly as precarious and the drive down was uneventful. 

The best overlooks near the bridge might accommodate two or three vehicles on the side of the road. It was busy, and there was nowhere to stop; I had to keep working my way down the narrow shelf road. The fall color views were best enjoyed in the moment looking out the window.

I stopped at a few of the larger parking areas near the bottom of the mountain. These used to be camp grounds, although signs advise they are now day-use only. Uranium mining contamination is the culprit for this change in the rules. 

Somehow I missed the waterfall. I doubt it would have mattered though. It didn't look that impressive in pictures, and with the creek at a trickle I doubt there was much to see. 

Feeling somewhat defeated, I returned to 288 and opted to go south. The highway is mostly paved in this direction, except for one dirt section that's in excellent shape. I completed this scenic drive and returned to Payson via AZ-188. I won't be in a hurry to return to this area. It's a lot of driving for little reward. I'll stick to Arizona Rim Country. 

Railroad Tunnel & Pump Station

Weather:  78º, partly cloudy

About this Hike:  Just over four years ago we explored up on the rim near General Springs Cabin. After a day of hiking, I wanted to head down the rim just a bit to Railroad Tunnel Trail. This descent was steep and rocky. We were in the height of the pandemic, and THAT Brewery in Pine was closing their takeout window by 7pm each night. 

Pressed for time, I never did make it to the tunnel on that trip. Come four years later and the pandemic still hasn't gone away, but at least life is somewhat back to normal. Now that Payson is home, I decided to give the tunnel trail another shot.

Instead of a long drive up to FR-300 and then another lengthy drive along 300, I opted to hike this bottom-to-top instead. 

After an interesting drive in along Houston Mesa Road, I joined numerous other hikers at the Washington Park Trailhead. The hike started out very enjoyable as it paralleled the East Verde River. Crossings came easy thanks to numerous footbridges. 

Eventually the trail joined an old road that parallels a utility line. I'm very certain this is the same utility line we followed four years ago on top of the rim. It comes down from Blue Ridge Reservoir. 

The old road had a few little springs that gushed from the side of the rim and washed across the dirt two-track. The final scramble up to the tunnel was steep and rocky. I took my time and verified my footing. 

The unfinished railroad tunnel was an interesting site to see. It doesn't go very deep A sign at the trailhead explains that the railroad project was...umm...railroaded by a lack of funding. Unlike your average naturally occurring cave, the tunnel wasn't very cool inside. Unfortunately people have graffitied the walls quite a bit too.

Outside the tunnel is the ruins of what appears to be a well-persevered old cabin. On the hike back down look carefully along the hillside that parallels the old road. There is another ruin site that looks like an old cabin. I scrambled up there and ate my lunch. 

As I was approaching the trailhead, I decided to extend my hike a bit on the Pump Station Trail #296. This trail appears to not be receiving much maintenance. It doesn't even exist on the All Trails map. The sign indicated it would be just over a mile to FR-32. 

The name of this trail intrigued me, and I was curious to see if there was any pumping infrastructure. As I approached the East Verde River, the trail was getting harder to follow. People were throwing boulders off a steep hillside into the river and creating loud splashes. I decided not to go any further. 

Along Pump Station there is a vein of red rock that looks very Sedona-esque. In fact, one creek in this area has an impressive drop off that I'm certain would be a beautiful red rock waterfall when it is flowing. 

On the drive out I was able to get a glimpse of Pump Station's namesake. While the area is gated and closed off, a sign indicated this is the Phelps Dodge Pump Station. Makes sense considering Phelps Dodge was the mining company that built Blue Ridge Reservoir in the 1960s. 

Today was another enjoyable hike right in my backyard and an easy drive from Payson. 

Turkey Spring and W. Webber via Milk Ranch Point

Weather:  90º, sunny

About this Hike:  All the guides I read to this hike talked about starting at the Geronimo Boy Scout camp and hiking up the Rim. While undoubtedly a great hike, there are conflicting reports on how to even access the trailhead, with restrictions placed on some access points by the camp.

I decided instead to hike this top-down by starting at Milk Ranch Point on the Rim. I parked near the Turkey Springs trailhead off FR-218. Across the road is a meadow called Dickenson Flat. A cool feature on the flat is a large sign made of white-painted rocks. It reads, "PHX → 75," and is intended for airplanes heading down to Sky Harbor. It's also readily visible on satellite images. 

The hike down Turkey Springs started in nice forest. It quickly gave way to exposed hillsides and manzanita scrub. The trail is a steep hike down, albeit just short of two miles to the Webber junction. The views of the Rim are fantastic—almost Grand Canyon-esque in places. 

I chose to use the Webber trail for the hike back up the Rim because unlike Turkey Spring, Webber has a lot more shade. Webber is in a lush canyon of maple, oak, spruce, fir, and ponderosa. Tree cover provided a welcome respite from the hot sun. A trickling creek paralleled the trail for a while. 

Webber trail is only about two miles back up to FR-218. The elevation gain is steady at first, but when you hit the switchbacks it really intensifies. I'd say most of the ~1,600 feet is gained on these switchbacks. The steepness and heat forced me to take this hike slow and take in the scenery. The sides of the Rim are so steep here; it's incredible a trail was able to be built at all.

Once back on top of the Rim, the forest changes quickly. Gone are the spruces and firs, replaced by less dense ponderosa pine and grassland. I reached the 218 road and followed it for a mile back to where I was parked. While closing the loop with a road is typically not enjoyable, this one wasn't too bad. Sections of the road were shaded. I scoped out numerous potential camping spots along the way. 

My final stop was a walk through the aforementioned Dickenson Flat. Doing this hike using Turkey Spring for the descent and Webber for the ascent was perfect. Despite hot weather, I thoroughly enjoyed today's excursion. 

Clover Creek and Tom's Canyon

Weather:  89º, sunny

About this Hike:  It's hot this Fourth of July weekend. I headed up above 7K feet hoping for some respite. Until the afternoon, I was largely successful. 

Over the Memorial Day weekend this year I explored Pivot Rock Canyon. As I neared the end of that hike, I intersected with FR-142 and also saw an old ATV road going up what's called Tom's Canyon. I decided to make a return trip via FR-142 and see what's up along Tom's Canyon.

The ATV road is easy to follow. Tom's is what you'd expect on the Rim this time of year:  some wildflowers, lots of butterflies, a dry but marshy creek, and ponderosa pine everywhere. I would estimate the ATV road lasted for less than a mile. Beyond that, Tom's Canyon was narrow, overgrown, and impassable. I decided to turn around and head back toward AZ-87. Today's big hike still awaited me.

Knowing that Tom's would likely be short, I planned a larger hike for today along Clover Creek Canyon. My map indicated it was accessible by two different forest roads. In fact, the trailhead is only accessible via FR-611. FR-10B seems to exist only on maps and perhaps in memories. 

The trailhead is well defined as is the path itself. It begins in a large meadow. A sign at the trailhead explains how this meadow was restored just over 20 years ago. There is some interesting infrastructure in the meadow that may have been part of that restoration project. 

At the boundary marker for West Clear Creek Wilderness there is a cattle fence with a well-disguised gate. It took me a minute of studying it to figure out how it opens. For a brief moment I feared the hiking area might be closed. 

Clover Canyon is open and I continued on past the wilderness boundary. The hike follows, and often crosses, a meandering creek. Many of the pools were full of crystal-clear water (hence the wilderness-area name). I saw crawdads scooting about in one of the pools. 

Lush creekside meadows give way to a narrower canyon the further you go up Clover. Typical striated sandstone forms the canyon walls. Ponderosa forest eventually becomes spruce and fir. Wildflowers and butterflies were in full colorful effect today. The namesake clover and wild grasses that fill the meadows of this canyon just don't seem to belong in Arizona. I remember seeing so many of these same plants in our yard when I was a kid growing up in Upstate New York. 

I fell just short of where the All Trails map shows the hiking path to end. The canyon was overgrown and narrowed quite a bit. It was impassable from this point on. 

The hike out went surprisingly fast. It was afternoon now and getting hot quickly. Near the trailhead a patch of prickly pear cactus were full of bright yellow and orange blossoms—a reminder that despite feeling like it's in the Northeast, Clover Creek Canyon is in fact in Arizona. 

East Baldy

Weather:  74º, sunny

About this Hike:  Last July I visited West Baldy Trail 94West Baldy Trail 94 in the Apache-Sitgreaves forest. Said to be the more scenic side of the mountain, I chose the west trail for this reason. Last July the day started beautiful, but by lunchtime clouds were building in. I got caught in no less than two thunderstorms, with one hailing on me.

Regardless, last July's adventure piqued my curiosity in the East Baldy 95 Trail. I planned an impromptu trip this weekend. Being as things are warming up, but we're not in the monsoon season yet, I thought early June was the perfect time of year to do this hike. 

As I drove down AZ-273 toward the trailhead, I noticed snow on top of the White Mountains. I guess there's a reason for their name. I started to wonder if I could encounter snow near the top of Mount Baldy. 

Last year I reached the junction where the east and west trails come together. I saw the trail to the true summit of Baldy, but opted to play by the rules and not trespass on tribal land. Another hiker pointed out to me a plane crash site on the east side. The aluminum skin was glistening in the sun, and I was able to get a closer view with my binoculars. 

At 6.3 miles in, reaching the plane crash site was today's goal. Beyond that, the trail would just take me to the same trail junction I reached last year. As you get higher on Baldy, the scenery does not get prettier. Much of the old-growth forest is dead, due to pestilence many years ago, I believe. Dead trees litter the side of the mountain like toothpicks, and while some trees are growing back, the forest is slow to regenerate. 

Compared to West Baldy, the east side ascends more steadily versus a steep climb all at once. Initially the hike was beautiful. It started off in a long meadow where wildflowers were beginning to appear and the east fork of the Little Colorado River meandered by. Unlike the west side where the trail parallels the river for quite some time, the east trail quickly ascends from the meadow and into forest. For the first few miles there are cool rock formations mixed in with the forest. 

Upon reaching the switchbacks, I noticed more and more snow piles. In front of me was a lone female hiking in sandals and revealing attire not at all appropriate for hiking. She also appeared to have no water or snacks. However, she was making great time. I'm a fast hiker, but she was staying steadily ahead of me, a relief since I hate the awkward song and dance of passing a slower hiker on the trail.

Another hiker was coming down the mountain. He climbed over a snow pile and then he and the girl began to talk. By the time I caught up to where they were standing, he had continued his descent. The girl laughed nervously and told me she had been warned there were bad snow fields the rest of the way up the mountain. Her sandal-clad feet soaked in snow, she said she was turning back.

I opted to press on, thinking my waterproof hiking boots would help me thru the snow. My boots were no match for that snow. It made the final 1.5 miles take about an hour. Sometimes there was hard packed snow I could walk on top of. Other times the snow would give out and I'd sink to my knees. Still other times I slipped, and had more controlled falls into the snow than I can count. 

My boots had snow and wet in them, and I was aggravated. However, in reviewing my GPS, I was not even a half mile to the crash site. I had to press on. Near the crash site things slightly improved. Due to all the dead trees, more sun was hitting the mountain top. There were at least patches of muddy, but exposed trail. 

I easily found the crash site, as several aluminum artifacts were right next to the trail. There may have been more, but they were likely buried in snow. I got some pictures and ate my lunch. Now it was time to turn back. 

The hike back thru the snow fields was just as aggravating. I stopped at a rocky overlook to wring out my socks. I met a group of backpackers that were doing the entire loop—up the east side and down the west. I did not envy them. I can't imagine the trail conditions were any better near the summit, much less down the steep switchbacks of the west side. 

Once I finally got thru the snow fields it was smooth sailing back to the trailhead. I completed this ~13 mile RT hike in about six hours. One big takeaway—regardless of the time of year, I guess you should plan on getting wet on this hike! Thankfully I had dry socks and shoes back in my truck.

Pivot Rock Canyon

Weather:  74º, sunny

About this Hike:  Pivot Rock Canyon sounded like a good Memorial Day hike. I would be going north on 87 to the rim while everyone else would be heading south and back to Phoenix. My assumption proved correct. 

Pivot Rock Canyon is accessible via either FR-616 or FR-142. I chose the 616 access point. This was due to less time spent on dirt roads to get to the canyon. I like hikes with a reward at the end. However, by doing this via 616 the reward comes at you right away in the form of a cool spring head. 

In what is apparent headwaters of this canyon's namesake stream, cool air and water gushed from what I believe is a man-made cut in the rock. There is also a rusty old pipe, indicating this spring has in fact had some human manipulation. 

The trail was mostly easy to follow, although I don't believe this is an official, maintained trail. There were no signs or even cairns; it just follows the creek. The next reward came into view. It was a balanced rock formation that likely served as the namesake for this canyon. Eventually the trail joins an old ATV road and then it becomes easier to follow.

The creek was flowing nicely today. Not too strong so as to make crossing difficult, but not dry either. Further up the canyon the creek waters did disappear underground and then the rocky creek bed was dry. The water would eventually re-appear at a later point further up-canyon. 

The area is surrounded by beautiful ponderosa pines and narrow, grassy meadows. There were plants bearing three leaves. These had stalks of beautiful yellow flowers. I'm not certain they were poison ivy, but I carefully sidestepped them rather than risk finding out the hard way.

There was one final reward near the end. The ruins of an old cabin came into view. It reminded me of Cabin Loop on another part of the rim. 

I intended my return to be via the way I came. As the ATV road ended and footpath began again, I lost the trail. I ended up in a treacherous area searching for the trail. I thought I found it only to look up and see a pile of paper towels. I knew right away. And then the smell hit me. I had stepped in human feces. Some people are so disgusting. And I wasn't on the correct trail.

I eventually got back on the correct path. And naturally, I followed what appeared to be a good path. It was obvious this was an ATV trail. I hadn't come in this way. Aggravated, I studied my GPS and realized I had gone up a side canyon tributary. I opted to keep following the ATV road knowing it would eventually intersect 616, which it did. The Forest Service is in the process of building fences and trying to keep people off these decommissioned ATV roads. In fact, the roads themselves no longer exist on most maps, nor are they numbered. A sign warned of a $5K fine for motorized use. Based on the fresh tire tracks, this is going unheeded. 

My return to the trailhead was nearly a mile along hot, exposed FR-616. I missed getting to see the spring head again, so I guess getting my reward at the beginning was a good thing.

Fire on the Mountain

Weather:  82º, sunny

About this Hike:  I have long wanted to try and complete the Desert-to-Pines hike that involves using Ballantine Trail to get to Pine Mountain. From the easily accessed Ballantine Trailhead on AZ-87 this is about a nine-mile hike one way. However, in studying the maps, it appeared there is a shorter way to do this.

The south end of Ballantine is accessible via Four Peaks Rd (FR-143). After about 11 miles on the rough dirt road, we parked at the Cline Trailhead, just off 143. There is no signage at this trailhead, nor along the trail. We spied an old cow tank near the parking area. We walked toward it assuming this was the trail. It took us down to Picadilla Creek, which was flowing nicely with a cool little waterfall. 

However, we ended up wasting an hour bushwhacking way off trail. I carry hiking GPS, but it seemed to always show us moving further from the trail, no matter what direction we went. After nearly an hour wasted, we finally found the trail.

This end of Ballantine is nothing but an overgrown old cattle road. The occasional cairn popped up and was a much-appreciated beacon on what was a very difficult trail to follow. Honestly, I don't know why it was so hard. An old waterline follows the trail, with pipes appearing above ground from time to time. There are numerous old concrete cow tanks, most filled with murky green water. Barbed wire fence often parallels the trail on the side opposite the water line. And speaking of water, somebody's out there doing maintenance. Large coils of black plastic water tubing were dropped along the trail in multiple spots. I'd like to know how people get those big, heavy coils of tube out into the middle of nowhere...

After only making it 1.5 miles up the trail, we gave up. It was getting late. While the trail was a little better maintained and less difficult to follow, it was still overgrown. The bushwhacking was getting old. While only a few miles to Pine Mountain, we managed to hike all day and fall short of this seemingly easy goal. 

The hike back was strangely easier. Maybe it was the late afternoon light. Maybe the cairns were more visible. We popped out at the Cline TH parking area, just a few yards east of where we mistakenly started. Wisps of smoke were beginning to rise over Mine Mountain. Knowing this could be bad, we hustled to get out of Four Peaks Wilderness. 

The smoke kept getting worse, and a few miles down 143 it was blocked by an emergency vehicle. The gentleman blocking the road moved his truck and asked us to proceed cautiously. Next up we were in the fire zone, with vegetation burning alongside the road. Wildland firefighters were on the scene of what was now named the Peak Fire. I didn't enjoy this hike at all, and don't plan to come back. 

Thank you firefighters.