The Ol' Swimming Hole

THE OL' SWIMMING HOLE WHERE SUMMER IS CALM & COOL

This is what swimming was like before Olympic-size pools with roped-off lanes and chlorine, before lifeguards, before artificial beaches," Bruce Crable says wistfully as he sits far above "the crack" on Sabino Creek, a favored boyhood swimming hole in historic Sabino Canyon near Tucson. Seemingly never-ending summertimes of the past dance through his memory as he gazes dreamily over the water, shielded by cottonwoods and mesquites, sycamores, and ash, alive with flitting and conversing (PRECEDING PANEL, PAGES 14 AND 15) Bruce Ponsar explores the peaceful depths of a swimming bole on Haigler Creek, while (RIGHT) Mary and Rachel Salais relax beneath a canopy of shade trees that bug the bank. (ABOVE) An exhilarating plunge into Fossil Creek awaits a swimmer swinging out over the water on a rope. (OPPOSITE PAGE) Sabino Creek, which flows down the slopes of Mount Lemmon near Tucson and into Sabino Canyon, offers visitors an escape from the heat of the desert.

cardinals, blackbirds, hummingbirds, and a variety of other winged creatures. In his mind, once again the lanky teenager in cutoffs was clambering down the rocks of the canyon to the stony pool below, to swim “until the skin on my fingertips turned white and crinkly.” “There,” he says, pointing about 100 yards upstream to a spot where he remembers the water reaching a depth of nearly seven feet. “We'd dive off the high rocks into that pool” — always with what seemed an unerring trajectory. Not all swimming holes are created equally, thanks to the vast differences in geology. Some zig and zag through massive columns of towering rock where, within a few steps, the bottom may drop away into inky depths. Others are formed by water eroding soft rock, their rounded red slopes embracing the pool's edge. Crable recalls just such a place: Wet Beaver Creek in the Verde Valley near Sedona. Here with a friend he'd arrived just after a morning downpour. “It was a four-mile hike from the trailhead to a swimming hole we were looking for.” Cottonwoods, junipers, and grizzled sycamores provided them with ample shade from the already warm midmorning sun. “The rain had stopped, and the cicadas were breaking the damp silence with their shrill song, which seemed to double in volume as it echoed off the walls of the canyon. What we were searching for — besides a place to swim — was a mysterious waterfall we'd heard about but few had ever seen.” After hiking some eight miles, Crable continues, the trail narrowed and started getting rocky. But still there was no sign of a waterfall. “Finally, we just gave up and fell into a pool of water at the base of a dry rocky cliff. Floating on our backs, we could look up through the leaves of the overhanging trees to the blue sky above and wonder where such a waterfall could be. Later we learned that the fall could only be seen after a heavy rain, and that the rocky cliff we'd peered up after admitting our defeat was actually the site of the sometime waterfall.” South of the Sedona area, near Strawberry and Pine, is Fossil Creek. Here a dusty road winds down a steep canyon below the Mogollon Rim. Old worn flumes supported by wooden framework carrying water from Fossil Creek Spring to the Childs-Irving hydroelectric plant are part of the scene, looking much like huge tubes of steel suspended on a railroad track. For Crable and his friends, they were an irresistible temptation. “We'd learned to ride the flumes,” Crable says, smiling sheepishly. “At the time, it was possible to jump inside certain sections of the old ductwork 50 feet above the canyon floor and be whipped away by the rushing water, which, after about 100 yards, dropped you into a reservoir.” There, below the heights of the Mogollon Rim, which seemed to float in timeless majesty above them, they'd spend the rest of the day swimming, sunning, and swinging from a rope tied to a cottonwood branch, letting go at just the right moment to flop into the water. “We didn't mind the few dogs and muscle-weary hikers who'd meandered up the creek for miles to take a dip in the pool.” These are only a sampling of the great swimming holes in central and southern Arizona. Simply because most exist far off the main trails and byways, many of the ancient pools have been spared the encroachment of development. Among these out-of-the-way swimming holes are the natural tubs on Haigler Creek in the deep woods below the mighty Mogollon Rim, and Sycamore Creek in the wild expanse of a canyon north of Jerome. And even now they host countless adolescents who stretch their imaginations there, dreaming through the long, lazy days of summer which we all, like Bruce Crable, remember so fondly.

THE OL' SWIMMING HOLE

Waterways Guide: For information about the state's waterways, we recommend Arizona Rivers and Streams, an Arizona State Parks Department book by Dan Dagget that explores hundreds of streams and the wildlife, recreational opportunities, and facilities found near them. To place an order, telephone Arizona Highways at 1 (800) 543-5432. In the Phoenix area, call 258-1000.

WHEN YOU GO

Getting there: “The crack” in Sabino Canyon is just north of the outskirts of metropolitan Tucson at the base of the Santa Catalina Mountains. The canyon has numerous hiking trails, picnic areas, and ramadas. In addition to “the crack,” there is also a smaller, shallow swimming hole called Tadpole Beach. You can hike the approximately two miles to “the crack” or take one of the trams, which run every day. The trams go 3.8 miles up Sabino Canyon, and there are numerous hiking trails beyond their last stop.

To get to Fossil Creek, go north on State Route 87 from Phoenix to Payson, following the road as it veers west through the small towns of Pine and Strawberry. Immediately after passing the Strawberry Lodge, turn left onto Forest Service Road 708, which soon begins its steep, curving decline down Fossil Creek Canyon. At the top of the canyon, a signed spur road leads to Fossil Springs.

To get to Wet Beaver Creek, go north on Interstate 17 from Phoenix to Sedona Exit 298. Get on State 179 and instead of going west toward Sedona, turn right onto Forest Service Road 618, which is unpaved. Follow the signs to the trailhead at Wet Beaver Creek. It's about a four-mile hike from the trailhead to the first swimming hole.

To get to Haigler Creek beneath the Mogollon Rim, take State Route 260 from Payson east toward Heber. Three miles past Christopher Creek, turn right onto Forest Service Road 291, the Young-Colcord Road. Go four miles and turn right on Forest Service Road 200, the Chamberlain Trail. This road winds down the Mogollon Rim and crosses Haigler Creek after eight miles. The swimming hole is below a sharp bend on the road 3/4ths of a mile from the bridge back the way you came. You also can hike upstream to the pool, but be prepared to get wet and do some wading to reach it. Continuing on Road 200 will take you to Young.

To get to Sycamore Creek in Sycamore Canyon, take I-17 to Verde Valley Exit 287 and turn west on State Route 279 to Clarkdale. Follow the signs, and turn right into Tuzigoot National Monument. After crossing the bridge over the Verde River, take the first left onto a dirt road marked Sycamore Canyon Wilderness Area and Verde Valley Country Club. Follow the road nine miles, past a signed fork, until you reach the parking area at the Wilderness boundary sign.

Sycamore Canyon is 21 miles long, but our destination requires only about two miles of easy hiking. The trail quickly drops from the parking area to the canyon floor and follows the stream through shady and grassy areas. Just past a bubbling spring, cross the creek and pick up the trail on its left bank. After crossing the creek again, you will see the sandy beach and swimming hole. Backpackers should note that this area is for day use only. Overnight camping is allowed four miles past the Wilderness boundary.

Karen Brandel biked the back roads in her home state of New York but never saw the diversity of swimming holes she's found in Arizona. This assignment was a treat for David Elms, Jr., who grew up in cities like Pittsburgh and Philadelphia where the closest thing to a swimming hole was the chlorine-treated concrete pond at the local YMCA.

(ABOVE) Rocks beneath a pool at Wet Beaver Creek form a natural whirlpool spa in which Bob Black finds cool comfort.

(OPPOSITE PAGE) Red rock cliffs dwarf bikers taking a break at a swimming hole on Sycamore Creek in an area where prehistoric Indians once hunted game and harvested wild plant foods.