Double Dipping: Bushwhacking Backpacking on That Creek in Northern Arizona and the Verde River
September 28-29, 2013
When David C. and Rogil described bushwhacking along That Creek in Northern Arizona to the confluence with the Verde River, it reminded me of how long it's been since I visited the area. Three years have passed since I returned to an area that I used to visit at least once a year!
Of course the reason is obvious to anyone familiar with the area. Years ago, we'd bushwhack along the stream and not see another human being all day. All of that changed in late 2004, when the Arizona Power Corporation decommissioned two power plants and restored That Creek in Northern Arizona to its natural flow.
During our last visit in 2010, we found both sides of the stream so overrun that many trees had been undercut and taken out. We met two forest service rangers recently transferred from the Grand Canyon who spent their days collecting trash along the stream. On the way out, we met at least 100 sunbathers with their swim toys and their dogs and their coolers full of beer in tow. They didn't come to enjoy a wild stream, they came to party at the beach.
The Forest Service promulgated new rules to protect That Creek in Northern Arizona in 2012, including prohibiting camping above the bridge and limiting it below the bridge, and Forest Road 708 from Strawberry has been closed most of the summer. Did it make a difference? We were anxious to find out.
We arrived late Friday night and somehow located our hiking buddy Dave T at one of the pulloffs south of the bridge. We settled in for the night, but were awoken around midnight by some guy going up and down the stream searching for his buddies and yelling his head off.
In the morning, before we had time for breakfast or even a cup of coffee, two truckloads of Mexicans pulled up and basically set up camp right on top of us, unloading their mattresses and coolers and gigantic tents and the extension cord for the boom box. We packed up and moved upstream to the trailhead, where we met "Dr. Joel Fleischman" from Alaska and his two adorable kids who had been chased out of the same spot in the same manner the previous weekend.
We loaded up our packs and headed upstream, along a section of the stream that with no trails and no traffic. Our plan was to walk in the stream as much as possible, but we were surprised by often we sank up to our knees in "quick mud" composed of burbling travertine, and ended up hacking through the brush on the streambank more than we liked. About two hours into the hike, we came to a narrows that we couldn't cross without a swim, so we scampered up and over a rock promontory. But the far side of the promontary was a sheer cliff, so up and up we went, eventually making our way along a game trail about halfway up the side of the canyon.
It was a relief when we finally spotted a talus slope with a manageable gradient that led us back down to the stream, and there was a fabulous plunge pool at the bottom of the slope.
We pressed on another hour or so, but when we stopped for lunch at a wide spot in the river, we realized it was already mid-afternoon, and we should find a nice campsite by a pool and arrive early enough to enjoy it. So we backtracked an hour to the pool at the base of the talus slope, and spent a glorious afternoon frolicking in the foam.
We hiked out Sunday morning in time for a trip down memory lane to Verde River Hot Springs, which I had visited several times in 2001 - 2004. I found the river drastically rearranged, and it took me several tries to locate the trail. But when we crossed the stream for the third time, I was delighted to find the hot springs had changed little since my first visit oh so long ago. There's some new artwork, but it's very much in the same spirit as the artwork I photographed 10 years ago. There was no trash, and it was obvious that despite heavy use, visitors continue to treat this special place with the reverence that it deserves.
On the drive out, at least five cars stopped us to ask for directions to "the waterfall" or "the hot springs". Faces fell when we explained that either destination involved a significant hike. "But the internet showed photos of big cliffs and a waterfall", whined one visitor, stunned that it wasn't right next to the parking lot.
Two words: permit system. The permit fees would easily cover the cost of a ranger station, and give this precious resource half a chance to recover from years of abuse.