Jeffrey S.
Yelp
Where have I been my entire life? How have I lived in the neighboring state to the north, known plenty of Arizona citizens, been a huge fan of the National Park System, and never once before this trip heard of Chiricahua? I'm supposed to be an outdoorsy kind of guy. I'm supposed to know this stuff. Yet there I was, in a restaurant, and the waiter was telling us we should go there. And then after hearing the name, the next day I learn that it's actually a national monument. I can only say that it's an embarrassment that it took this long to discover it.
On the other hand, though, I can very honestly say that I had no expectations going in. I mean, I had no idea what it was known for. It could have been a volcano, an arch, cave, or giant hole in the ground, and I would have been equally surprised. So what is it known for and why is it a national monument? Best I tell you through story:
I had just spent the night in Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument and decided, upon the advice of that friendly waiter, to check out Chiricahua next. Our day had gotten away from us a little and we rolled into Willcox a little after dark. We made the turn south on the 186 in total darkness, the kind that fires up your imagination with what might be outside of either window. Canyon walls? Flat fields of cactus? Too dark to know. We followed the signs and turned up the road into the monument, entered the trees, found the campground, turned in, and shined headlights on our site while we set up tents. We knew there were trees, we knew it smelled damper than the dry desert, and we slept.
In the morning, I was last to wake up. I heard excited noises and an invitation to get out of my tent and see the "Bryce Canyon" like place. I put on my shoes, wiggled out of the tent, and had to adjust my eyes. Indeed, we were covered in trees, but through them the morning sun had set the canyon wall ablaze with color. Rock pillars and sheer canyon sheets plunged down and disappeared into the treeline.
After the kind staff at the visitor's center gave us all the hiking info and maps we'd need, we drove the rest of the way into the park, climbing to the tippy top of the Massai Point Overlook. And there's why you see what this place is all about and why it's a national monument. It's a massive canyon of rocks; a series of walls with foothill hoodoos and rock formations, like little gray, green, and orange soldiers lined up amongst the trees. It had been raining, so the lichen was vibrant and the colors deep and contours in high contrast. The big, white, puffy clouds were pushed by a pleasant but brisk breeze. It's a garden of rock gnomes, some several stories high. Skinny spires and squatty blocks that excite the imagination and beg to be explored.
We set off from Massai Point, down the Ed Riggs Trail, then at the sign, hit the switchback down to the river on the Mushroom Rock Trail. The namesake formation is well-marked. From there, we continued into Hunt Canyon and finally started to ascend. We skipped the Inspiration Point spur, but continued on the Big Balance Rock Trail towards the Heart Of Rocks Loop. About the time you get to Big Balanced Rock, your head is going to explode. You've just walked along a lovely forest stream, then risen to an exposed landscape with amazing views, and then entered the rock wonderland. The loop has lots of named formations, but the most breathtaking part for me was the northwestern corner where the view opens up to a whole other section (Hailstone/Echo Canyon Trails, a separate trailhead) and you see just how vast an area the formations span. I could go on about the hike, for sure.
The campground is an instant classic. Clean restrooms, safe boxes for your food, ample water sources, and inexpensive. Each site has a BBQ stand, picnic table, a pad with enough room for a few small tents, or one large one. It's covered with shade, which probably comes in mighty handy in summer. Sites can be reserved ahead of time, but in our mid-week, offseason trip there were plenty of openings for walkup. Watch out for Mexican Jays; their natural tendency to scavenge for pickings from predators has morphed into an army that appears when wrappers start crinkling. And there are skunks. We saw them.
It's a special place. It merits more exploration. And if you're touring around Arizona, it's unlike anything else. It's not Saguaro, it's not the Grand Canyon, it's not Organ Pipe. It's a unique, beautiful, magic place. I may not have heard of it before, but surely now I'll never be able to forget it.
