EDITOR'S LETTER

editor's letter A Little Peace and Quiet

The first cabin I ever stayed in was on a small, see-through lake in southern Ontario. In the '60s and '70s, my family would go up there in the summer, and even though it's been decades since my last trip, I can still see the cabin. There was a weather-worn back porch that led directly into a narrow galley kitchen, which included a wood-burning cookstove and a gas-powered refrigerator. To the right, just inside the back door, was a cramped bedroom where my brother Jeff and I slept. Beyond the kitchen was a sitting room I guess that's what you'd call it and around the corner was a second bedroom. The floors were creaky, the walls were knotty pine, and the inside of the cabin smelled just like the woods outside the cabin. That's because the only thing separating the two was a flimsy screen door. It was a relic I considered no match for the queue of bears that I knew was outside, just waiting to get me.

They never did get me, but the bears were all around, and I was always on alert. It came with the territory. So did the outhouse, which, even for a kid from rural Wisconsin, was primitive. Still, the memories of that cabin have stayed with me, and I hope they never fade away. I don't think they could.

Had I grown up in Arizona, the memories wouldn't be much different. There would have been a cabin, a gift from my father, but instead of Canada, it would have been in the White Mountains or the forests around Flagstaff. Or, we might have gone farther west, to the Spring Valley Cabin near Williams. The centuryold cabin was a home for rangers, but now it's part of the U.S. Forest Service's Rooms With a View program, which offers cabin rentals in some of the state's most beautiful places.

As Kathy Montgomery writes in Rest Assured, “Each is unique and reflects the history and character of the place where it's located.” But, she warns, they're rustic. “If you want chocolates on your pillow, you'll need to take them along with sheets, toilet paper and, in some cases, an ax to cut your own firewood.” The trade-off is the peace and quiet you'll get. Even up in Canada we had a neighbor Vilho Allanon, an old cook for a logging camp but these cabins are out there all alone, surrounded by little more than Mother Nature. The Spring Valley Cabin sits in the shadow of Kendrick Peak, and at the other end of the state, the Portal Bunkhouse is surrounded by the dramatic rhyolite cliffs of the Chiricahua Mountains. In our piece, we tell you about a handful of the cabins in the program. In another story, we tell you about another cabin, but it's not for rent. It's just a good story one of the few good things to come out of the devastating Slide Fire.

It's not unusual for fire crews to uncover archaeological sites in our national forests, but the discovery of an old cabin along the West Fork of Oak Creek was unique. Not because of the structure, which has suffered from neglect, but because it went unnoticed for so many decades in the busiest place on the Coconino National Forest. In Cabin Fever, you'll learn more about the historic site, which was protected by a fireproof blanket during the blaze. Add that to the long list of heroic acts performed by the fire crews who fought the Slide Fire. Thanks to them, the fire was eventually contained, and today, instead of smoke, the only thing in the air is autumn.

We look forward to autumn in Arizona. In the same way that Vilho embraced the arrival of spring in Ontario, we throw our arms around fall, which marks the end of a long, brutal summer.

It's a popular time at the magazine, too, because we get to showcase some of the state's unexpected beauty. The sunsets and saguaros are familiar to the world, but the profusion of red, yellow and gold in autumn is not. You'll see some of that surprising color in our cover story, but the best way to experience autumn is to be outdoors, and you have many options.

You could head to the White Mountains and hike the Pole Knoll Recreation Area (see our Hike of the Month), you could take a scenic drive around Flagstaff (I suggest Hart Prairie Road), or you could rent a cabin in one of our national forests, where the aspens, oaks and maples will be putting on a show. As you know, the cabins are primitive, and you'll have to take your own sheets and toilet paper, but if you appreciate Mother Nature, and a little peace and quiet, you'll take home a memory that'll last a lifetime.

Coming in NOVEMBER... Arizona: Then & Now, a portfolio that shows how things have changed over the years wait until you see the old road to Mount Lemmon. Plus, the Sonoran Desert by George Stocking.