Lockett Meadow & Bismarck Lake & Trail

Aaaahhhh. I feel so much better after a trip to Flagstaff. I came back exhausted. That's what I like, and not even another poopy episode could bring me down!

Arriving about 4 pm, I checked into Motel 6 and took off to explore Lockett Meadow's loopy trail, which sounded interesting in the guide book. The drive up (from highway 89 across from Sunset Crater) was narrow and scary -- extreme drop-off on my side, no shoulder. The meadow was pretty but way too popular. Lots of campsites (not mentioned in the guide) and a very stinky latrine, lots of folks probably fleeing the wildfire smoke in town. I didn't see any point walking the overpopulated campsite loop around the meadow, but I was starved for a hike, so I took the Inner Basin Trail for maybe 3/4 mile relentlessly uphill to a big snake-head rock. I met kids, dogs, and romantic couples coming and going. It was steep enough to wear me out and threatening to get dark; a returning family said I was only halfway to my goal, a junction with another trail -- my cue to head gratefully downhill again.

The drive back was so much better, the up-slope on my right and pleasing sunset views. Just below the meadow I spotted a turnout hinting at a viewpoint. Sure enough, the setting sun was spectacularly focused on a cinder cone in Sunset Crater National Monument. My photo doesn't do it justice. I wonder if that's why it's called Sunset Crater!

I stopped to eat at Mary's Cafe on the way back into town. Big mistake. White lettuce salad with bits of carrot & cabbage so tiny one had to fingerpick them out for a bit of flavor. I asked for oil & vinegar dressing; I think it was soybean oil. Giant chicken-fried steak with soggy crust and utterly tasteless gravy, but tasty cowboy beans. The corn was bright yellow, enticing, but tasted like dishwater. Pretty good biscuit, but no butter (butter-flavored crap with a drop of Land o'Lakes butter that stood up like sponge castles, never melted). I know several great places to eat in Flagstaff, so this was a horrendous blunder.

Next day, Bismarck Trail after breakfast at Quinn's. They make the best pancakes I've ever tasted, with actual maple syrup. I just wish they'd keep the coffee hot. The trail in toward Humphrey Peak wasn't quite like the book described. I think the Arizona Trail folks have altered it, filling in their last remaining gap in that area. But never mind. The uphill slope was mild enough that I could handle it (with my usual panting breaks) for a couple of miles. When it started going downhill, I decided pretty quickly that I was too tired to face that coming back. All and all, in and out plus side trips, I think I did at least 5 miles, maybe a little more. Conifers and aspens, open meadows, pleasing views, cloudless sky -- I'll definitely return.

On the way back, a very laid-back horned lizard offered photo-ops, so I squatted (ouch) then sat down in the dust, inching closer with what I'm sure was a very sexy hip-walk. I took 20 or 30 photos, which got me a couple of pretty good ones. Then, while I was down there, I tried to photograph insects on flowers, none of which were anywhere near in focus. If the Coolpix can spot-focus, I couldn't find it. I had opted not to lug the D-70 around on such a long (for me) hike. Soon I will have a macro lens and will spend hours sitting in the dirt beside bugs on flowers. For now, the lizard (being much wider and lazier) was as good as I could get.

Oh, I'm sorry but I cannot resist another poop story. It's bugging me that I always seem to have just one more big poop in me that doesn't want out until I'm far from civilized facilities. At least this time I didn't fall over and had handfuls of folded grass for wiping. My mistake? I guess I was anxious not to be seen and didn't do the job at all thoroughly. Squatting is a little painful on my knees & hard to maintain.

I first suspected something was wrong about a mile into my hike when I sat down beside the trail and smelled something nasty. As I had just extracted a vertebra from the dirt beside me, I figured it was decomp. When I detected the same odor again later, I got uneasy. When I got to Domenic's for pizza hours later, aching and covered in dust and sweat, I slunk in like a homeless person set on bathing in the toilet, clean underpants shoved into my shorts pocket. Sure enough, I found a shocking quantity of shit in my panties! Omigod. I carefully folded them around the mess and hid them deep in the covered trash can, cursed the blow-dryer (no paper towels I could wet for cleansing!), washed dust off my face, hands, and arms, and ordered a Vampire Killer pizza with anchovies.

Now, don't you want to go hiking with me?