DESERT SKI TRAILS

OPPOSITE PAGE “BOAT CARAVAN THROUGH THE DESERT” BY ALLEN C. REED. 4x5 Crown Graphic camera; Ektachrome; f.16 at 1/25th sec.; Ektar 127 mm. lens; March, 1957; 9:30 A.M., clear sky; Weston meter reading 350. Scene: State Highway 88 about 48 miles east of Phoenix. Four Peaks in the background against sky. “WATER SKIING IN A DESERT LAKE” BY ALLEN C. REED. 4x5 Crown Graphic camera; Ektachrome; f.9 at 1/50th sec.; Ektar 127 mm. lens; March, 1957; 11:30 A.M.; Weston meter reading 350. Canyon Lake is long and narrow (approx. 10 miles long). in places a thousand or more feet above the water line. Such spectacular canyon-walled waterways offer a wonderland of scenic playgrounds for boaters, water skiers and participants in a variety of other water sports. One of the most devoted and inspired groups to take advantage of Arizona's waterways is the Desert Boat and Ski Club of Phoenix. A typical periodic outing of this 72-family organization starts with an early Sunday morning take-off for their desert rendezvous on Canyon Lake,

fifty miles east of Phoenix. Here the day is enjoyed picnicking, visiting, comparing boats and, most exhilarating of all, water skiing and water games between towering, cactus-studded canyon walls. From the youngest skier of seven to the oldest of seventy, the members of the Desert Boat and Ski Club set a fine example by regularly enjoying the sport that awaits those who wish to roam the canyons of Arizona's scenic back country on, of all things, water skis.

Moving from one snowfall measuring point to another amount of moisture in the soil and the roadbed.

ARIZONA SNOW SURVEY . . .

After reaching what the survey team considers as the truck's next-to-point-of-no-return, the Snow Cat is run down off the truck bed on ramps. The two men climb into the unupholstered cab and head for the first stop, a place called Black River Divide, an idyllic, verdant spot in the summer but something else again in the winter. For some reason the nearby, sharply delineated pine forests that surround this spot lose their summer greenness and seem almost black and lifeless in the winter.

In this Snow Cat rig, any conjectures about a swift, gliding ride through soft snow banks would be wholly erroneous. Riding in the cab is like riding an exuberant bronc off the side of a mountain. But this machine can muck through snow and slush, albeit noisily. Breakdowns occur from time to time, and this means "walking out."

Last year, the engine on the older model Snow Cat then in use burned out a bearing a few miles from the Black River Divide course. Borden Goodman of the S. R. V. W. U. A. and Kenny Boyd of the S. C. S., on the survey at the time, unstrapped their skis, loaded their army type shoulder packs, fully loaded with supplies, rations and emergency equipment, and took off for the point where the truck was located. Fortunately, it was early in the day and the snow was suitably packed for ski travel. (Snowshoe conditions are heavier going.) They left the Snow Cat without any fear that its cabfull of equipment would be molested by anyone, until spring anyway.

The pair reached their truck before dark, somewhat fatigued from their 12-mile jaunt. Had the timing not been so favorable, or the going so good, they would have included a tent and bedrolls along with their other take-out gear, and, of necessity, spent the night deep in an area that local inhabitants shun in the winter.

The snow courses are located in such selected spots as to give as accurate a picture of conditions as is possible.

That is, where the drifting is at a minimum and the trees not close enough to obstruct the falling snow. The markers for each course are about one hundred yards apart. The thirty-foot interval measurements are made along the line between the markers with a steel tube, the end of which has a sharpened edge. Through slots in the tube, the core of snow and ice within is assessed visually as to contents. Then the tube is weighed and the core of layered ice crusts and snow is forced out for further inspection. Due to the comparatively erratic weather in Arizona's mountains-first a cold, stormy spell, then intervals of consecutive sunny days-a cross-section core of the snow cover usually shows alternate layers of ice crusts and snow, whereas in most other areas where snow surveys are made, such as in the Colorado Rockies, the snow storms keep piling up layer after layer of snow alone, with the springtime melt being progressively steady, thus becoming comparatively easy to forecast with some accuracy.

Near the Black River Divide course, and in several other places, soil moisture units have been installed. Readings from them are taken electrically. A metal pipe, with connections in the above-snow-level end to attach a microammeter, extends six feet into the ground. Below ground level, extending out from the central tube at descending intervals, are moisture sensitive pods and when the microammeter is hooked up, the readings indicate the soil's moisture content, foot by foot. This information is useful in assessing the "underground" flow.

Another device to assist in compiling an accurate survey of the watershed run-off is the seasonal catch gages. These are nothing but suspended tube-like pails, with windbreaker baffles around them, to catch the snow and rain. These gages contain a chemical to keep the fallen moisture in liquid condition and oil to prevent evaporation.

After all measurements have been taken, and minutely recorded, the snow survey team climbs aboard the Snow Cat and takes off for the next course, Maverick Fork. Then on to the "Baldy" course, and a third stop at what is called the "Fort Apache" course (nowhere near the town of that name) completes the day, ordinarily allowing ample time for the run back to the truck-if nothing happens. Storms and breakdown hazards make this schedule anything but routine.

The next day the snow surveyors repeat the process on several courses laid out in the Heber area, eighty miles away in another uninhabited mountain forest area of high water-producing snow cover. The third day on the schedule the Snow Cat-loaded truck moves on to the Mormon Lake area where more readings are taken.

Meanwhile, the cooperators-the ranchers, park rangers, and other people in other lines of work-who make readings in their areas-send in their reports. There are thirty-nine snow courses on Arizona's watersheds.

Also, additional information comes from a number of other sources the watershed division of the S. R. V. W. U. A., the U. S. Geological Survey, which has been measuring stream flow since 1889, various irrigation district water commissioners, and so on.

All this data is compiled every two weeks during the winter, and reports are issued which go to an interesting list of subscribers-colleges and universities, farm management companies, cloud seeding firms, railroads, agricultural research outfits, engineering firms, public utilities, private firms such as sugar and cotton companies, various agricultural associations, banks, and a number of Federal and State agencies, as well as a number of individuals. They are all interested in what the "runoff" will be, some from an immediate and economic viewpoint, others from a long range and scientific standpoint.

Some records, such as stream flow, have been kept for many years; others only more recently. The interest in these records is such that the Phoenix daily papers publish condensations, along with storage reserves of water.

From all of the available past records, and from the current readings, from long range weather forecasts, carefully weighing each record against past experience, and using many other factors, a forecast is made of the expected spring run-offs on the various watershed areas. This is a tricky evaluation to figure out, especially in Arizona because of the highly varied winter temperatures even in the highest parts. These S. R. V. W. U. A. and S. C. S. experts consider a 10% error, plus or minus, as being good.

Because water production is the most important economic function of these watersheds, directly and indirectly, the annual snow surveys are immensely important. Within the past forty years there has been a gradual decline in run-off from Arizona's forested areas. Recently there has been a great deal of research and study on the reasons for this and what can be done to improve the situation. These studies have been somewhat hampered by self-appointed "experts" and featherbedding interests, but the research goes on nevertheless, and it is reasonable to assume that these forested areas can be, and will be made to substantially increase their water productivityboth run-off and the underground supply-along with similar increases in their other economic functions such as forage production, timber production and so on.

The snow surveys made each winter, when the bright green of summer has turned vast areas into more somber hues, when the only sounds on calm days are the winds whispering through the pine tops, whisperings that turn into angry roaring during stormy weather, these surveys not only serve to evaluate the mountain country's water production, but cumulatively, the snow survey reports also indicate the need for new approaches to recovering additional run-off. It is encouraging to water-short Arizona that the findings and reports of the experts indicate that this is possible.

Yours sincerely

NOVEMBER Never, as far back as we can remember, Has anyone known so fine a November! The gold leaves have stayed on the aspen trees, And equally lovely and glowing as these Are the linnets that flit through the golden haze, Still singing their eloquent roundelays! This is the peak of a peaceful year, Heaped with the beauty the heart holds dear! LUCILE V. MCCURTAIN CATASTROPHE Snow had fallen feather-lightly through the night. Our spruce tree stood a rare transfigured sight That tempted birds and sunbeams. A small grey sparrow, thinking that he must, Just once, try the taste of sparkle-crust, Cireled, perched, and peeked a branch. Then came the avalanche! LELA STOLESON OF AESTHETICS AND MEDICS Now they say I didn't need Zephyr, sun and tumbleweed, Could have been cured anywhereIn smog or soot or humid airAway from this gigantic sky, Plateau-wide and mountain-high. Which makes me feel a little strange, Standing on this mountain range, Feeling healthy, strong and new; Must have come just for the view! REEVE SPENCER KELLEY GIVE THE LADY WHAT SHE WANTS (or she'll take it) I bought her a wren-house, shiny and new, And hung it out where neighbors were few. 1 offered it rent-free, with protection, But she by-passed it, sans inspection; To choose instead for her twiggy nest, (Was ever a bird so self-possessed?) An old fence post with a Pisa lean: A castlette for a garden-queen. EMELINE ENNIS KOTULA "FOREST FASHION" Spruce grove Skirted in Neddle green, showing A ruffled petticoat of Aspen. GENE SPERRY NOVEMBER Sun-gold and autumn flame of leaf Are spendthrift, burning, strangely brief. Both brightened and betrayed by frost These leaves are loosened, fall, are lost. Soon, dull and dead they lie below The star-bright beauty of first snow. VESTA NICKERSON WELCOME SIGHT IN ITALY: ... I have been enjoying ARIZONA HIGHWAYS ever since Pete Van Voorhis of Phoenix, Arizona, arranged to have regular copies sent to my home. But I particularly enjoyed it as a result of a recent experience. I was in a small hotel in Assisi, Italy, and strolled into the lobby while waiting for luncheon to be served. There, among several Italian language publications, was a familiar welcome sight of an American publication. You have probably guessed already that it was a copy of ARIZONA HIGHWAYS, and the only English language publication on the table. Thought you might be interested. L. J. Francisco-Formica Corporation-Cincinnati, Ohio

THE NAVAJO PROBLEM: Congratulations on the August issue of your magazine. It is one of the best ever. Several of your articles mentioned the schooling of the children. Having had close contact with the situation in its various aspects in several parts of the reservation, it is good to have mention made about a) "Privations none of us would care for for our children still face the little Navajos who want schooling (things are provided, bodies are cared for, but) the experience of growing up in a family is weakened. To whom he or she owes loyalty, devotion, and obedience can become confusing ." (page 12) and b) the reference "in the Navajo back-country, juvenile delinquency is well-nigh unheard of ." The confusion the majority of the school children have as the result of uprooting them and the various aspects of acculturation they go through is very often a lasting confusion. We see it, and are increasingly alarmed by the whole problem. There is no pat answer to the problem, but the breakdown of the old ways, of authority, of respect for elders seems increasingly pronounced as the Navajo children become increasingly acculturated-and grow farther away from their families and home ties. Some years ago, I wrote to you when working at an isolated station-with a school and clinic program. Since leaving that area, the school and clinic have been closed-but the local trader, I am told, wanted to take over the empty building to turn it into a tavern. Since coming to a more urban location, the impact of rock and roll, of movies specializing in delinquency, of easy access to liquor and the various other aspects of civilization and acculturation in our worst forms cause times of heartache among us who knew the People and loved them for their dignity and self-respect. There was a time the parents loved their children. In our field and hospital work we get, increasingly, children and babies brought to us by police for care while parents sober up in jail, or we hear, increasingly, of parents who give (or sell) their babies for adoption, and in a recent month the city jail had an average of over 60 daily picked up for drunkenness. To refer to the letters, and editorial comment: Education, alone, isn't the complete answer. It is an important part of the answer to the "Navajo problem." Some of our people have wealth from oil and uranium-but it hasn't led to "happiness" among many of the people. 1 might add that the wisest man I know is one in whose hogan I attended a number of native ceremonies, who is using some $25,000 to improve his farm and investing well over $100,000 in order that he and his family may live on the income, and who is illiterate and without "education." Most of those with some "education" find it necessary to buy pickups, radios, wine and other trappings of acculturation. Your editor may feel there is too much Navajoland to be spoiled by oil derricks and such, but that's not the opinion of many of us who marvel at the way the things show up in the strangest places. Of course, we realize there is no choice-but some of us share the feeling of a few of the older people for the days now gone forever. It's not that we want to turn back the clock, but it does seem that the price of acculturation is heavy-and the problems of adjustment to the white man's civilization and progress seem at the expense of something that is wonderful and fine in a culture that had meaning and richness. Father Eugene Botelho-Farmington, New Mexico

OPPOSITE PAGE

"EARLY MORNING IN THE SNOW COUNTRY" BY FRED RAGSDALE. 5x7 Deardorff view camera; Ektachrome daylight sheet film; f.45 at 5th sec.; 7" Goerz Dagor lens; February 1, 1957; morning light; no meter reading. Photographer seldom uses one. Photographer says: "We were heading for Tucson in somewhat of a hurry on U.S. 66 and this morning scene came up somewhere along the way (just before we turned off on U.S. 666 and headed south for St. Johns). I had only one chance to do this picture as a very cold wind started to blow, and before too many minutes the beautiful 'fluff had blown away."

BACK COVER

"THE WINDMILL IN AUTUMN" BY WAYNE DAVIS. Graphic View II camera; Ektachrome; f.16 at 5th sec.; 135 mm. Wide-Field Ektar lens; Sept. 10, 1956; evening light-15 minutes before sundown; meter reading: sky-200 placed on Zone V; foliage-50 placed on Zone III. Taken on Davis Ranch, seven miles east of St. Johns on county road which goes from St. Johns to Salt Lake, N.M. The windmill, stark against the autumn sky, attracted attention of photographer to scene.