April 2, 2001
I’m in an incredible place, in the forest along the east-facing base of the San Francisco Peaks, not far from home. Walked up here from the edge of a housing development, following first an arroy and then a couple of different dirt roads. It will be difficult to go back down to that world dominated by humans.
Here the air is so fresh and sweet, with that piney, smoky, high-altitude fragrance that never fails to intoxicate. There are large melting snowbanks in the shady spaces beneath tall ponderosa pines, still dormant aspens, and various kinds of spruces and firs. The forest here is very mixed.
The wind is gusting, the breeze blowing up to forty or fifty miles per hour, enough to knock you off balance. The sky is so pure and blue that it brings tears to the eyes. Clouds are passing overhead at what looks like one hundred miles per hour. I am a little cold sitting here in the shade because my shirt was soaked in sweat during the ninety minute hike that it took to get here.
As the altitude increased and the air got colder, the sky bluer and the trees greener, my adrenalin kicked in and my pace quickened. This trail comes up off the Shultz Pass Road and looks like it is used by cross country skiers and snowshoers in winter. I went through two or three drifts that are still two to three feet deep. Apparently no one has been walking or bicycling up here since snow season.
Up above and behind me is the sheer wall of one of the Peaks’ flanks, somewhere below Doyle Peak. If you could get over what appears to be a fairly “low” pass to the west, Doyle should be on the other side, steep and looming, white in deep snow. Next time I will start off Schultz Pass Road and see how much higher I can reach, to see where this trail eventually leads.
Better take out the binoculars, get my bearings, and head back downhill, going east. This is an awesome and beautiful place. Love is the only word that can come close to describing what it is like to have walked here, and to be in the presence of such…love.