Skiing on the Edge

SKIING ON THE EDGE A MOGOLLON RIM ADVENTURE

Am upside down in the snow at the bottom of a gully. Every time I struggle to get up, I slide closer to a deadly pool of ice water below. A nightmarish Jack London story suddenly comes to mind: The hero falls into arctic water, shivers awhile, and . . . dies. But this is Arizona, not the arctic. And we are just six hours into a five-day ski trip. Though I'm temporarily stickpinned to the snow by skis and poles, I fully intend to complete my adventure: crossing the very heart of the Mogollon Rim in win-ter. But first I have to get out of this fix. Kicking and clawing snow, I pull myself upright and stagger off to join my partners a short distance ahead. A couple of hours later, we pitch camp on the edge of the Rim, and as the sun drips into an orange pot behind the mountains, the chill finally hits me. This place is cold.

Cold, of course, is the main problem with snow camping. It keeps me from finding much company on these trips. Usually when I propose the idea of snow camp-ing to friends, they act as if I have suggested something bizarre. "Camp in snow?" they ask in shock. For the Mogollon Rim trip, though, I found photographer Fred Griffin, a sucker for any kind of discomfort as long as it involves taking pictures, and Don Muise, a recreation officer for the Coconino National Forest and a former Nordic racer. They were just the sort of strong fellows I needed for safety's sake my safety. This was to be my first skiing trip since having knee surgery. My plan was to follow the original 1870s military trail blazed by Gen. George Crook for his campaign against the Apaches. Our starting date fell on a Thursday, so we could "beat the weekend rush," as I put it. That was a laugher. Over the next five days, we would see only one other human: a Snowcat driver rumbling along three miles from our destination. We had departed this morning from the end of a plowed parking area just off State Route 260, a place known as "V71" in Crook Trail parlance. The "V" comes from the soldierly practice of carving V-shaped notches into trees or rocks along the trail. The number indicates mileage from Fort Verde. Our goal was to ski to V33, almost 40 miles across the Rim's wildest winter stretch. En route we'd pass its highest point, 8,077foot Baker Butte. The first hours out taught us what to expect from the weather. My hands went numb with cold while making initial adjustments to my skis and backpack, but after 10 minutes of skiing, I was so warm I peeled down to a cotton T-shirt. Out came the sunscreen.

His first night, bundled in unbelievable thicknesses of clothing, I crawl into my tent and face the usual winter camping dilemma: What do I take off? What do I leave on? Generally, I don't need many clothes to sleep warmly in frigid weather, but putting on frozen garments in the morning makes me disagreeable. As I rustle around in the black cold, I feel a lump in my shirt pocket. Sunscreen. It is hard to believe the sun was ever around enough to burn skin. Morning arrives, still frigid. A cold northeast wind hammers us. I worm out of my tent and stumble toward the aroma of Don Muise's coffee. We complain about the cold awhile, then ski off in our full winter clothing. Thirty minutes of exertion later, we repeat yesterday's story. Hot. Beachwear. Sunscreen. Crook Trail leads us west past Promontory Butte (V61), a long southerly finger of the Rim. Beyond it we enter the stark aftermath of the 1990 Dude Fire. The fire took our forest here, replacing it with blackened pine skeletons. They stick out of the snow carelessly, teetering in every direction. But from this lifeless landscape, we can pick out 12,643-foot snowcapped Humphreys Peak floating like a whitecap 60 miles away. I drop my gear, lean back, and dig my ski "heels" into the snowpack. There is contradiction here: I am resting on a three-foot layer of frozen stuff, but my skin is baking in the sun. We cross Leonard Canyon (V56) late in the day and enter the Coconino National Muise leads Heffernon across a narrow snow-banked stream as shadows dapple the terrain.

Forest for the first time — Don's place of business. We are bone-tired from breaking trail in soft snow. Slogging up the never-ending hill to Knoll Ridge, I pause periodically to scan ahead with binoculars, searching for a campsite. But there is nothing — just a barricade in the distance.

"Barricade?" Don says. It's the barricade his forest puts up every winter to close the Old Rim Road near Knoll Lake. And he recalls a campable spot just beyond. We brighten. Having come 10 hard miles already, we can go a little farther now. We trudge into our campsite as the sky flares orange. The snow here is too soft to support a tent, so I shape a snow platform and wait for it to set up hard. I perform my winter camp chores in an exhausted trance. Erect shelter and stomp out trails to key locations. I should create a path to Don's or Fred's tent so we can cook together, but I am too weary. Instead, I call out, "Where do you want to meet for dinner?" Don groans. "Split the food packages," he says. "Let's cook separately." Sometime in the night, a great horned owl wakes me with his hunting call, and I real-ize the wind has stopped. My moist breath

SKIING ON THE EDGE

has crystallized on the inside of the tent. The next morning on the trail near Lost Lake (V53), Don spots our first slalom run of the day, a mogul-filled drop winding past a minefield of firs. He shrugs his shoulders and heads straight down. As his skis accelerate toward the first slalom "gate," a long fir branch reaches out and whops him back on his heels. He lurches forward to recover, but just then his right ski hits a sticky patch. The ski hesitates; Don and his pack proceed full tilt, and for one beautiful moment he soars above the snowpackjust before his head buries deep inside. This sort of dive is known to skiers as a "snowpack analysis." Don rolls up slowly and shakes a blizzard of white stuff out of his ears. "Nice way to cool off," he announces.

A GUIDE TO SKIING ARIZONA

Whether you are a cross-country or downhill skier - or both Arizona is a great place for skiing. Here's a short list that will help you find the downhill powder and groomed trails: (All telephone numbers are in 520 area code.) Ranger District maintains cross-country ski trail loops close to Spring Valley and can direct you to a variety of undeveloped ski areas, including one near White Horse Lake, and the Benham Snow Play Area, just south of Williams. For maps and directions, call 635-2676.

Cross-country Skiing

ALPINE AND HANNAGAN MEADOW: Contact the Alpine Ranger District of the Apache-Sitgreaves National Forest for information on trails. 339-4384.

FLAGSTAFF NORDIC CENTER: 40 kilometers of beautiful trails, rentals, instructors, classes for all ages, moonlight tours and races. 779-1951.

For skiing the San Francisco Peaks near Flagstaff, contact the Coconino National Forest's Peaks Ranger District. 526-0866.

FOREST LAKES TOURING CENTER: On the Mogollon Rim, north of Payson; 35 km of groomed trails, instructors, rentals, tours, and classes for all ages. 535-4047. For more information on skiing and accommodations on the Rim and in the White Mountains, contact the Pinetop-Lakeside Chamber of Commerce. 367-4290.

GREER: The Circle B Market and Tripp Inn sells maps of local trails and rents cross-country skis, 735-7540. For more information on lodging, contact Greer Business Associates, P.O. Box 54, Greer, AZ 85927.

SPRINGERVILLE: For cross-country skiing in the Springerville area of the White Mountains, contact the Round Valley Chamber of Commerce, 333-2123, or the Apache-Sitgreaves National Forest's Springerville Ranger District Office, 333-4372.

MORMON LAKE: There are two cross-country ski areas in the vicinity. Mormon Lake Ski Center has 38 km of trails, 354-2240, and Montezuma Nordic Ski Center has 21 km of trails, 354-2220. For skiing in the Coconino National Forest, contact Mormon Lake Ranger District, 774-1147.

WILLIAMS: The Kaibab National Forest's Chalender ARIZONA SNOWBOWL: Located above 12,000 feet in the San Francisco Peaks north of Flagstaff, with more than 30 runs and four chairlifts, day lodges, lessons, rentals, and snow-boarding. 779-4577.

Downhill Skiing

MOUNT LEMMON SKI VALLEY: At about 9,100 feet in the Santa Catalinas north of Tucson, with 15 runs, lessons, rentals, and a restaurant. 576-1321.

SUNRISE PARK RESORT: At about 9,000 feet in the White Mountains on the Fort Apache Indian Reservation, with 45 runs and 10 lifts, lessons, day care, rentals, and lodging. 735-7669.

WILLIAMS SKI AREA: Just outside town on Bill Williams Mountain, this family-oriented ski area has a variety of slopes for all skiers with two tow lifts, rentals, lessons, children's play area, a day lodge, and cross-country trails. 635-9330.

It's midafternoon and we are beyond warm. My nose has peeled two layers, and Don's neck has burned buzzard-red. Fittingly we enter another stark remnant of the Dude Fire. Don leads me up to a charred tree trunk much like all the rest, but on its north side we find an ancient "V50" carved into the bark. Back in the 1870s, some lonely soldier probably scratched this blaze with his own pocketknife. Somehow it survived the fire.

We are getting thirsty. Fred Griffin finds a small ravine with snowmelt, but the water flows out of reach. We need longer arms. I clip a coffeepot to my ski pole with one of his carabiners, then extend it down until it dips water. Presto, we fill four quarts in less than two minutes.

Again we camp on the very edge of the Rim. As the sky darkens and the temperature plummets, I sit bundled inside my tent, legs encased in the sleeping bag, and write notes by the illumination of a dangling flashlight. Suddenly the wind gusts, and my light swirls drunkenly over the jumble of gear around me. Here lies all that stands between me and freezing. I douse my light and settle down to sleep. The morning's trail takes us on a rollercoaster ride. Beyond Dude Lake (V46), we face a series of serpentine hills that climax with the Big Drop, a free-fall descent into General Springs Canyon. Don flies down the slope like a rocket on reentry. Fred soon follows. I try to take it slow, and for my caution I suffer only one swanlike crash, though it somehow manages to reprogram my watch. We stop for a snack at General Springs (V43), then push on to Kehl Springs (V39) for our last night. The snowbound and deserted campground seems like a luxury resort compared to our previous sites. In easy reach are gushing springs and a real picnic table which Don has shoveled out of the snow. But it is bitter cold in this hollow, and both my water bottles freeze solid by morning.

We break camp at 9 A.M., the earliest start of the trip. We'd have left even earlier except that Don and Fred had a problem with their boots. They froze into alien shapes overnight and had to be warmed before they could get them on.

All is quiet in camp on the edge of the Mogollon Rim. The skiers will remain in their sleeping bags inside the tents until the sun is up to help warm them.

On skis again, we find the snow has developed a fast glassy patina. Don and Fred speed ahead, their breath streaming behind them like banners, but I hang back. I want to relax and absorb the rhythm of our last day. I ski past Quaking Aspen Draw (V38), then Lee Johnson Spring (V36). I climb to the saddle beneath Baker Butte (V34). From here, all I have to do is make one last push on the poles, and I will coast the rest of the way down the long hill to our truck. It will be a glorious ride, but the trip will end there. Why rush? I push off. Easy. And glide.

WHEN YOU GO

The Mogollon Rim, a 1,000to 2,000-foot-high escarpment on the south edge of the Colorado Plateau, dominates much of east-central Arizona. Because it averages more than 7,500 feet in elevation, the Rim is subject to severe snowfalls, making it perfect for winter sports. Before setting out on a ski trip, check current weather conditions and pack plenty of warm layerable clothing. Temperatures can drop well below 0° F. at night and reach 60° during the day. Always leave a detailed plan of your trip with the Forest Service and never set out alone.

Many people confuse the Crook Trail and the Old Rim Road where they both cross the Rim's most dramatic portion between State routes 260 and 87. While the Old Rim Road parallels, and even overlays, the Crook Trail in many places, the two routes diverge often, particularly when the Crook Trail dips down to springs and potholes. The Crook Trail is generally well-marked by plastic V-shaped chevrons tacked to prominent trees. (See Arizona Highways, July '82.) For more information on the routing of the Crook Trail, look for A Guide to the General Crook Trail by Eldon Bowman, published by the Museum of Northern Arizona Press, 1978. For current skiing conditions, contact the Coconino National Forest, Blue Ridge Ranger District office in Happy Jack, (520) 477-2255, and the Apache-Sitgreaves National Forest's Chevelon Ranger District office in Winslow, (520) 289-2471.