Full Circle

A year ago my newly-trained Air Force son came home for a holiday visit. Now that he’s older and wiser, he enjoys hiking with his mama (again). We started down a normal trail at a familiar park but went off the beaten path to check out some flirty fall colors that hinted at a water source in the very dry Sonoran Desert. As we headed down the hill, decorated with crumbly pumice underfoot and igneous rock cliffs overhead, we came across an elderly man sitting on a rock embankment, who shared the history and value of the very secret creek that flowed through the dry earth which hundreds of hikers unknowingly pass by every year. This “secret trail” became my cornerstone of sanity throughout the past year as I endured teaching through a pandemic and becoming an empty nester. I saw it throughout all four seasons, and here is the story of Mystery Creek (original name is protected).

January 2021

After my son, Jake, and I met the mysterious elderly man on the cliff and heard his stories, we meandered up the creek to explore its hidden treasures. There were deep pools of water within volcanic cliffs, filled with fish, sparkling waterfalls, dripping moss, papyrus bouquets along the bubbling brook, and lots of “fall” color from a wide assortment of deciduous trees. It was perfect. Peaceful, happy, vibrant, full of life. I didn’t know such a place existed in the dry desert found a hundred yards away. This happy place was a green oasis. We enjoyed our meandering beside the creek, and ended our hike. I promised myself I would come again.

February 2021

It was Valentine’s Day, or what I affectionately call “Arizona Statehood Day.” Who needs a romantic dinner and chocolates when you can have a picnic along a creek? I packed up my camera bag and snacks and went down to the little oasis to practice my waterfall photography skills at sunset. It was so quiet and serene… I was the only one around for miles. The green was getting greener, and the water was cold and clear. When I was ready to go home, I hiked back up into the desert, and was rewarded with the starry sky at twilight.

March 2021

After spending February and March exploring new locations and secret caves in Sedona, I was ready for my favorite hike for my birthday!! It was spring in Arizona, and I was excited to see the creek in a new season. This time I hiked the loop in the opposite direction, which ended with the creek at the end. It’s always surprising what new views and treasures you find with a different perspective!! When I reached the creek after exploring the desert and its vibrant cactus blooms, I felt like I was in an explosion of green!

April 2021

It was cactus blossom season, and I was ready to capture the vivid colors of late spring in the desert. I was curious how the creek was handling the warmer temperatures… would it dry up over the summer? So naturally I went back to check it out. The surrounding foliage around the creek seemed a little more muted… but it was contrasted to the usually-dull desert popping in vibrant bloom, and the almost-summer sun was shining more brightly than usual. The creek was still running, and obviously a haven to many different kinds of wildlife I haven’t seen before.

May 2021

Summertime in Arizona! School is off for summer vacation, and the rising mercury encourages hikers to wake up and hit the trails at dawn. It was also a season of saying goodbye. My friend Melissa was leaving to a new Air Force assignment in Italy, and she requested that we have one last hike together. I knew exactly where to take her, and I knew she would love it as much as me. We had a little company this time…

June and July 2021

June and July were spent being stuck at home (due to a mechanical issue with my car) and going up to the Pacific Northwest for a couple weeks with family. Down in Arizona, it was a wild and wet monsoon season, one of the most dramatic we have seen in about a decade. Strong winds, intense thunderstorms, and torrential rain made the sizzling summer a little more bearable than usual. After flying home from the cooler climate up north, I was very anxious to see how the creek was handling the monsoon activity. Remember the older man that we met back in January on the cliff? He had told us that the monsoons can create a flash flood that rips through that little canyon, rising as high as where he was sitting. I was curious about what I would find.

So one early morning in July, I strapped on my camera case and hit the trail that leads to the creek. I got down to the gate (where the rattlesnake was in the previous slideshow), and there was a huge mud bowl under a bowing sumac bush, intensely soaked with monsoon moisture and almost hitting the ground. I stopped to assess the scenario— I didn’t really want to wade in the mud with my backpack on and the millions of mosquitoes waiting for wet skin to attack. So I did what any non-thinking person would do- try to pass the mud bowl by walking on the muddy side. (In my defense, I haven’t walked in slick mud for a couple decades.) Just like a comedy or cartoon, my feet slipped up, and my butt went crashing down in the soft gooey warm earth. If it wasn’t for the expensive camera gear on my back and the aforementioned ravenous mosquitoes, I would have just laid there for a while to catch my breath and have a good laugh at my stupidity. But I hopped up very quickly and started running back to the car, being chased (quite literally) by a cloud of flying vampire insects. There was a good amount of shrieking (from me) as I was slapping myself and dripping mud up the hill to my car. Ironically the fall in the mudbowl was the best thing that happened to me that summer. I had hurt my back pretty badly after hiking on Mount St. Helens, and somehow the fall into the mud actually popped something in my back. While checking the mud damage on my clothing, I could actually feel the physical relief from the searing spinal pressure.

Considering I was wet and muddy, and the humidity was about 100%, I didn’t want to drive home without drying off a little first. So I went to another trail nearby and explored the post-monsoon desert. It was fun to explore the wet rocks and find grass and flowers in the middle of the summer.

August 2021

I went back to the trail that goes to the creek, but the deep mud and sumac debris were still blocking the way, and the gate was stuck once I got to it. After seeing the rattlesnake in the exact same location, I knew it wasn’t safe to go off-trail in the warm temps to get around the obstacle. I would have to be patient and wait.

September 2021

Monsoon Season is over, and it’s almost fall!! It had been 4 months since I’ve seen the creek, and I was hoping to be able to explore its little treasures after the monsoon season. I finally hatched a plan that would allow me to get to the creek, no matter what!! I had forgotten that there was another entrance to it, as it’s part of a loop. I drove to a different location and climbed down a steep hill to go to that entrance. But when I got there, my heart sank. The grand entrance of towering cottonwood trees instantly displayed the destruction of the monsoon storms. The tops of trees were snapped like toothpicks, and had crashed down onto the creek. There weren’t marshy banks of leggy frogs and floating duckweed, there was debris, branches, and lots and lots of hardened mud and sand. The trail had been rerouted by someone to get around several of the fallen trees and monsoon debris, and it wasn’t even close enough to hear the gurgling of the water through the reeds. I walked along the trail, feeling like I had lost a good friend. When I got to the end (which is usually the beginning for me), it was nice to see the water along the cliffs, looking as beautiful as always. This season definitely changed the trail, but the creek was still there. I have hope.

October and November 2021

Fall in Arizona is usually a pretty busy season for most of us who are emerging from our summer hibernation. Between teaching, coaching Cross Country, and sponsoring Garden Club, I had to squeeze in my hikes on Sundays and random weekday nights that I didn’t pass out after dinner. There wasn’t any time to go to the creek, and quite honestly my heart wasn’t into seeing the destruction. Life moved on.

December 2021

Jake is back in town for the holidays!! For our first hike during the holiday vacation, I decided that I would take a leap of faith and bring him back to the creek. We walked down to the cliffs and watched our reflection in the sparkling water, once again filled with fish. We climbed over the crazy weird rock formation to go further into the creek, and I held my breath. Would we see more destruction?? But happily my unspoken prayer was answered!! Someone had been clearing out the debris, sawing up the fallen trees, and cleaning out parts of the creek. It wasn’t back exactly to the way it was, but I guess that’s the whole point of life. When we reach a full circle, we aren’t the same people who started it out to begin with.

So maybe this annual pilgrimage to the creek, exploring it during the four seasons, had a lot more to teach me than I expected.