Hike of the Month

hike of the month Early Snow Makes the Red Ridge Trail a Wonderland for Hikers

The weather front hailed from the Gulf of Alaska. It swept past British Columbia, wafted over the Pacific Northwest, pushed all the way down to California, made a smart left turn, and charged full-bore into Arizona.Here, apparently stricken with the meteorological equivalent of exhaustion, it dumped its enormous load of moisture drenching the deserts with rain and cloaking the high mountains with up to two feet of snow.

Photographer Kerrick James and I couldn't have been more pleased.

Unapologetic admirers of snow in a state widely known for its scarcity of same, we'd long looked forward to a "winter conditions" hike on an oldfavorite summertime route: the Red Ridge Trail high in the Santa Catalina Mountains north of Tucson.

The 3.1-mile (one way) trail starts at a signed trailhead on

WHEN YOU GO

Hikers heading into Arizona's high mountains in late fall, winter, and early spring should be prepared for cold temperatures, snow, and sudden changes in the weather. Experienced winter hikers travel in parties of two or more people and even on trips intended as day hikes carry enough clothing and gear to survive an unplanned night in the open. For information on weather and trail conditions in the Catalinas, contact the Santa Catalina Ranger District of the Forest Service at (520) 749-8700.

To reach the road to Mount Lemmon Ski Valley. To reach it, we drove 25 miles up Mount Lemmon Highway to its junction with the Ski Valley road, and then followed that 0.7 of a mile to the trailhead in a small clearing.

Beginning at an elevation of 7,950 feet, the trail is a pineand fir-shaded haven from desert heat in the months from late spring through midautumn. But anytime from mid-October to the end of March, snowladen storm fronts can turn Red Ridge into a glistening white wilderness.

That's precisely how Kerrick and I found it when we arrived for our hike shortly after a major winter storm had plastered the state and then given way to a spell of clear weather. The landscape was tricolored: cotton-white snow, deep evergreen forest, and azure sky.

Decked out in warm fleece fabrics, waterproof mountain boots, and leggings known as gaiters, we made fresh tracks in 18 inches of new snow as we followed the trail on an initial short climb to its namesake ridge. From there the route traces the ridge on a sometimes gradual, sometimes steep descent to a splendid lunch spot and turnaround point at the trail's junction with the East Fork of the Cañada del Oro Trail.

From the upper reaches of the trail, we took in big views to the west of a jagged ridge called Reef of Rock. Later we watched a red-tailed hawk patrol for what must have been slim predatory pickings in the white-shrouded canyons below us.

Farther along, as we descended toward the 5,700-foot low point of the hike, the depth of the snow cover diminished and the fir forest gave way to a mixed woodland of oaks, junipers, and piñon pines.

After crossing a trickling creek, we arrived at the junction with the East Fork Trail.

There, in a clearing, we found a deserted prospector's cabin, which had recently been stocked by hikers as an overnight shelter and emergency refuge. Furnishings and provisions included three cots with sleeping pads, lanterns, a stove, pots and pans, coffee, canned goods, maps, and a nice selection of tattered books. Apparently operated on a sort of backcountry honor system use what you need, leave what you can spare the shelter tempted us to stay the night in unexpected luxury.

We also considered walking a half mile up the East Fork Trail to the site of an old mining outpost called Catalina Camp.

But Kerrick and I had come for a tramp in the snow, and we hadn't had our fill. The bright sun, we noticed, was beginning to snack on the blanket of white that had attracted us here. If we wanted to make tracks, now was the time, and this was the place.