April 7th, 2023
At 6:00 a.m. on April 2nd, I pulled out of my campsite of the last 5 months and headed northeast. The flowering cactus were left behind as I drove to higher elevations along with snow and pine forest.
Driving a two lane highway through the greasewood flats, I passed a number of tiny forgettable villages. As I passed through one, it’s name registered with me, but I would probably never remember the name were it not for the large sign along the highway as I left the town. In block letters, it stated “You Are Beyond Hope”. It was not the first time I have been told that.
I started a winding path with hairpin turns over the mountains just west of Prescott, Arizona. My destination for the next 4 days was Lynx Lake USFS Campground, just outside of town. I had gone from temperatures with lows of 50 and highs of 75, to 24 and 41. I could see snow on the hillsides just outside of the campground. A daytime temperature of 41 with 35 mile per hour winds was a bit of a shock.
During my stay in the area, I wanted to hike the trails around two lakes, Lynx and Watson. Watson in particular is known for its rocky dells. Alas, I could not make it around either, as the streams entering and exiting the lakes were to high with snow runoff.
The trail at Watson Lake was very rocky and required quite a bit of boulder hopping. The left photos is actually of the trail. Hiking in this sort of terrain was very different from the flat desert hiking I had been doing. By the end of 3 miles, I was exhausted, my legs having turned to Jello.
On the hike back to my truck, I passed the boat ramp, where a young couple from Georgia were getting ready to paddle stand-up boards on the lake. Nobody really likes advice from an old coot walking along the shoreline, but my experience with canoeing, kayaking, and life saving courses required me to say something. It was 41 degrees. There was a 35 mile per hour wind. The lake was discolored by snow runoff. I told them “if you fall off that board and you are more than 20 yards from the shore, you are going to die of hypothermia”. I hiked on.
The Lynx Lake trail was undergoing some spring maintenance. Above we see a large pine tree had smashed the bridge over a small stream.
In my mind I pictured Prescott as a small mountain town. It turned out to be a city with plenty of sprawl. For the previous five months, I was limited to one place for dining, Silly Al’s Pizza. But, around Prescott there was every imaginable chain restaurant. I had breakfast twice at the Cracker Barrel and got take-out one evening at Chick-fil-a. On my last night, I intended to use a gift card I had received at Dickey’s Barbecue Pit. I drove to the location on the town square, and it no longer existed. As a second choice, I decided on pizza. The first place I drove to, had been replaced by a Red Robin, the second was an empty building. A third was closed, but after driving back nine miles, the way I had come, I found Rosa’s Pizza. Not great.
I am guessing that Prescott was heavily hit by the Covid restrictions, as a reoccurring theme was closed and no longer existing businesses.
Next up, a Mars landscape, except with grass, and trees turned to stone.
Starting All Over 