Kohl came over and we packed the Jeep with camping gear and an adventurous spirit, and took off to northern climes. We drove up to Flagstaff and just kept going. Our first stop on the weekend of adventure was the Lava River Cave, about 20 miles north of Flagstaff. We drove through a few miles of dirt roads past cool pine forests and open meadows filled with tall grass and wildflowers. When we
arrived at the trailhead for the cave, we were both surprised at the number of vehicles parked there. Dozens of off-roaders packed the place as we packed our day bags and headed up the short trail to the cave. The Lava River Cave, or Lava Tube, was formed when the volcanoes of the San Francisco Peaks erupted, with the molten lava flowing underground through a long tunnel until it finally hardened and left a 3/4 mile long cave in the middle of the forest. The entrance to the cave is basically a big bouldery hole in the ground, and as soon as we approached it, the temperature dropped at least 10 degrees. We broke out some long sleeves and our headlam
ps and headed off into the unknown... Well, it wasn't really the unknown, as there were dozens of people in and around the entrance as we descended into the dark tunnel flecked with the bobbing of varying intensities of fluorescents and LEDs. The beginning of the cave was slick with condensation, making the scramble over the sharp volcanic boulders a bit of an adventure, but within a few hundred meters, the floor of the tunnel evened out to reveal a smoother floor of frozen lava. The further we hiked in, the beams of our headlamps flashing over every inch of the unique topography, the fewer our companions became. We soon came to a Y in the tube, and we chose the path less traveled (or at least the one that didn't have any headlights in it). We walked along on our own for a bit until we found ourselves completely alone in t
he cave, so we turned off our lights and marveled in the beauty of absolute darkness and total silence. The feeling was completely surreal, and we were frozen to the spot of ground on which we stood. The imagination plays interesting tricks on the mind, and I couldn't help but feel like I was standing on the edge of a cliff even though I knew that I was perfectly safe. It almost became too much, and after a few minutes we turned our lights back on to reveal our breath condensing once again in front of our faces and continued on. The ceiling rose and fell as we walked along until we came to a section where we had to crawl on our hands and knees with our packs scraping the roof. In the floor, you could see the flow of the lava and odd rocks forever immortalized in the frozen river and cracks that criss-crossed the floor formed from the cooling of the rock. Since our lights only illuminated a dozen feet ahe
ad of us, we came upon the end of the tunnel very abruptly. There was no warning, just a narrowing of the cave until it dead-ended like a half-built railroad tunnel. We stopped for a quick break before turning around and heading out, taking the opposite side of the Y on the return trip and letting the darkness really seep into our beings. Although we had only been in the cave for less than two hours, the literal light at the end of the tunnel seemed strange and we crawled up out of the cave blinking and shedding our outer layers in the sudden heat. We soon adjusted and headed back to the Jeep and down the dirt roads. The flower-filled meadows beckoned us to frolic in them like little kids, so that's exactly what we did. The diversity and beauty of Arizona always amazes me, and it felt so good and so free to be running through the tall grass with a sweet pine breeze on the air. Afterwards we returned to Flagstaff for an early dinner at the Brewery before heading south on Lake Mary Road, where we resumed our explorations. Our search for the perfect camping spot sent us up the road to
wards Marshall Lake. Neither of us had been up there before, and the views from the top were incredible. We decided almost immediately that we would camp up there, but since we had a few hours of daylight left, we went back down to check out the southern part of Upper Lake Mary. The sunflowers and thistle growing among the driftwood made a spectacular foreground to the sun setting over the water and we sat down on a log and just watched the water for quite awhile, mesmerized by the lapping of the waves as if we were back on the ocean. With a little bit of daylight left, we gathered up some wood for a fire and returned to Marshall Lake. We found a secluded spot on the edge of the marshy lake and set up the tent and started a fire just as the last rays of sunlight slipped behind the San Franciscos. Our driftwood held out for longer than we thought it would, and our eyes soon grew heavy staring into the flames. I woke up to sounds of shrill water birds an
d got out of the tent to a bright, beautiful high altitude morning. After Kohl got up, we explored the shoreline and watched the outdoor version of Sunday morning cartoons as two guys attempted to float kayaks into the shallow reed-choked muck. Although the lake had its own beauty in the form of flora and waterfowl, it wasn't the first place that I would choose to kayak, and we got quite the show before we packed up camp to continue our exploration of the great state. With no agenda and a full tank of gas, we got to the intersection of Lake Mary Road and turned south. Just south of Lake Mary, we turned off to see what Ashurst Lake had to offer. The few miles along the high prairie gravel road were fairly interesting. Although the land is publicly owned, it is leased out to cattle farmers and as a result, cows were dotted all along the route. At one point, a big momma cow with even bigger longhorns charged across the road towards the Jeep and we both braced for impact before she decided that we weren't a threat to her calf and continued along her way. At the end of the road, we reached Ashurst Lake, a fair sized shallow lake with lots of rocks (and some potential j
umping cliffs we think on the other side) surrounding it. There was lots of camping all over, but with the flat prairie surrounding the lake, it was kind of out in the open and not the most interesting place in the world. So, we turned around and decided to check out some of the trails. The Arizona Trail is a 790 mile trail that traverses the entire length of the state from Utah to Mexico, and took off from the Horse Lake trailhead (no, there is no lake, as we sadly found out) through the sparse pine forest towards Mormon Mountain. We went several miles and started to formulate new adventures for the American Fire team. Tentatively, we're going to try the trail in its entirety in the future. We figure it'll take a little bit less than 51 days and the budget won't be a fraction of an ocean row. We would have gone further down the trail, but we didn't want to spoil our future plans, so we took off again to find something new. A few more miles down the road, we came to the *almost* dry lake bed of Mormon Lake. It amounted to a large-scale version of Marshall Lake with marshy wetlands surrounding a good sized chunk of water in the middle. We drove around the entire lake until we came to a little village just in time for lunch, so we stopped at the Mormon Lake Lodge. The lodge was part museum, part restaurant, and they served a great lunch and had some incredible history of the area (everything from memorabilia of cattle ranchers and wild west feuds to stuffed mountain lions) hanging up on the walls. After lunch, we headed back around the lake, stopping at an overlook where bald eagles were supposed to be nesting. We didn't spot any of the birds, but a man who had set up a telescope set up let us watch a herd of several hundred elk grazing in the marshy area below. Our journey continued south through a high country thunderstorm on Lake Mary Road. Although I've only lived in Arizona for two years, I feel like I have explored quite a bit of it. Driving past dozens and dozens of brown signs pointing towards interesting parts of the national forests that line the road, I realized that it would take a lifetime to explore all of the amazing things that this state has to offer.It was getting later in the day, so we opted not to explore any of the sites that claimed to be 10 miles or more from the highway, but after we met up with Highway 260 and final
ly through to 87, we pulled off to see what the Tonto Natural Bridge was all about. One of the great things about Arizona is how many amazing natural places you see absolutely free, and the $3 per person fee for the Natural Bridge had kept me away for awhile, but it was something that both of us wanted to see, so we paid the fee and went into the park. Even before we got to the namesake bridge, we got our money's worth by eating at least $6 worth of plums and blackberries from the grounds. After we got our fill, we walked over to the top of the bridge. Similar to the arches up in Utah, the unique geology of the land in combination with the forces of erosion had created a massive tunnel through the rock, creating a bridge over a creek below. We hiked down the trail to admire the view, play in the creek (unfortunately, the rangers wouldn't let us swim or cliff jump), and walk under the bridge. It was a good time, but we had gotten there near closing time, so we headed back up the trail, ate a few green apples that grew near the parking lot, and headed for home.We returned to the 100 degree heat of Phoenix, but it had been a great weekend full of new adventures so we didn't mind too much and we look forward to many more great adventures in the future.
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