Mapping Sedona

A map can be a key to adventure.

I'm delighted! A couple days ago, I learned that Rio Nuevo Publishers released the Sedona Map and Guide, a project that I worked on throughout 2012. This feels a little like sending a child off to college, then realizing when they come home for a visit that they've grown into someone remarkable. In a sense, I’ve worked on this project the entire 25 years I’ve lived in Arizona, collecting experiences and memories, seasons and stories. 

I realize that a number of people today think that maps will go the way of dinosaurs, thanks to GPS technology. But I love maps the same way I love books, as ink-on-paper talismans that hold potential riches of story and adventure. Of course, no piece of paper can truly represent the fullness of being in the landscape, but I think we came close with this project.

The main talent behind this map is Bronze Black, a Flagstaff designer/illustrator and river guide who produced a similar project, his Grand Canyon Superguide. In addition to trail information, Bronze incorporated my text and dazzling photography from Larry Lindahl, George H. H. Huey, and others, photographers whose work has been featured on the pages of Arizona Highways magazine. Dave Jenney, Caroline Cook, and the supremely talented folks at Rio Nuevo Publishers shepherded the map through the final stages, making sure it was not only accurate and useful but also an object of beauty.

I’d like to think that our enthusiasm for getting to know Sedona via mountain biking (in Bronze’s case) and hiking (my case) shines through. We wanted to convey Red Rock Country as an experience—not merely a beautiful landscape to admire from afar, but as a place of hidden canyons, fascinating history, wildflowers and wildlife, and awe-inspiring geology—all accessible and waiting to be explored.

Even if a two-dimensional rectangle of paper can’t hold the entire spectrum of Sedona, I hope this map will become a key for people to unlock their own experiences.

Grand Canyon’s Wild Side: The North Rim

Grand Canyon's Point Imperial on the North Rim

Road trippers, buckle your seatbelts: National Park facilities on Grand Canyon’s North Rim are due to open next week. (Officially, the park’s North Rim is open May 15–October 15, but Mother Nature has the final say.) This news is sweet relief for desert dwellers. Phoenix temperatures are expected to top 100 again by the end of the week, while on the North Rim it’s 30 degrees cooler.

Higher than the South Rim by 1,400 feet and shaded by boreal forests of spruce, fir, and aspen, the North Rim can receive more than a 100 inches of snow each winter, forcing the closure of State Route 67 and park facilities. By mid-May, the snow is gone, meadows and aspen are greening, and Grand Canyon Lodge throws open its doors to welcome visitors.

Only one out of ten park visitors make it to this side of the canyon. Though it’s only 10 miles away from the South Rim’s Grand Canyon Village as the raven flies, to get to the North Rim takes five hours by car or shuttle or at least two days of hiking.

For the lucky few who venture here, that means natural quiet, fresh pine-scented air, and a relaxed pace. Many of the North Rim’s scenic highlights are strung like gems along the paved Cape Royal Road, which travels 20 miles across the Walhalla Plateau. Even along this popular scenic drive, trails are seldom crowded. (One of my favorites, short but sweet Cliff Springs Trail, starts near the end of the road.)

The North Rim’s most popular trail, the North Kaibab, leads into the canyon. Several other trails wind through rim-side forests, where wildflowers linger through summer. If you plan to explore beyond the pavement, you’ll want a high-clearance vehicle and a good map. Be aware that gravel and dirt roads in the neighboring Kaibab National Forest can be muddy into June. Check weather and road conditions before starting out. For the latest announcements from Grand Canyon, visit the park service’s web site.

Welcome to Grand Canyon’s wild side!

Sedona is for the Birds

Last night, while I was making pizza to the sounds of Mozart, a warbling song drifted in through the open windows. In the deep twilight, I couldn’t identify the singer by sight, but it seemed like the bird was responding to the violins playing on the stereo. Spring has brought a symphony of birdsong to our backyards and “neighborwoods,” the local nickname for the Coconino National Forest boundary that encircles Sedona.

Being so close to national forest, we host a mix of species, shy spotted towhees shuffling beneath bushes in search of insects, scrub jays scolding loudly from pinons, the occasional kestral silently watching for rodents or smaller birds from a branch or telephone pole. A popular neighborwoods walk is to climb Sugarloaf, a red sandstone butte in West Sedona, where white-throated swifts zoom past hikers’ heads.

Deeper in the forest, the liquid song of the canyon wren is sweet music to hikers' ears. These small reddish-brown wrens (about five inches long) hop in and out of rocky crevices and boulder piles in search of insects. The male’s song is a descending, flutelike tew-tew-tew-tew-tew-tew. Females usually choose nest sites hidden in the rocks, though one little mother raised her brood inside the room of an ancient cliff dwelling at Palatki. She tucked her nest in the hole from a roof beam, and her four offspring grew up under the watchful eyes of the site’s rangers and hundreds of visitors.

Cliffs and ledges in Fay Canyon, Sedona

Rocky canyons like Fay, Boynton, and Long also echo with the piercing cries of hawks and peregrine falcons, a threatened and endangered species (TES). Peregrines nest on the ledges of Sedona’s famed rock formations—the second highest concentration of breeding pairs in the state. Where canyons climb to higher elevations, acorn woodpeckers drill holes in ponderosa trunks to store row upon row of acorns, then spend most of their time relocating and defending their accumulated wealth. (Nature’s metaphor for modern life, perhaps?)

With nearly two hundred avian species, from tiny black-chinned hummingbirds to bald eagles, Sedona is a paradise for birdwatchers. Most birds nest here during summer, then spend winter months in Mexico or Central and South America. Seventeen are on the TES list, many of these—including the Southwestern willow flycatcher and belted kingfisher—dependent on riparian areas, the lush environments of Oak Creek, Beaver Creek, or the Verde River.

Some of the best places for birdwatching near Sedona are Red Rock State Park, the wetlands (reclamation ponds) west of town, or the Page Springs Fish Hatchery. Today is the final day of the area's top nature-themed event, the Verde Valley Birding and Nature Festival held each April. Whether you're an experienced birder or a beginner hoping to learn a little more about the feathered musicians in your backyard, the "Birdy Verde" is a fabulous event with workshops and guided field trips throughout central and northern Arizona.

Being a naturalist wannabe, I've made an effort over the years to study Sedona's flora and fauna. And yet every spring I find myself needing to relearn birdcalls or distinguishing marks. Binoculars sit by windows, and field guides pile up on shelves and tables along with a notebook and pen. After hearing last night's anonymous warbler, however, I've decided it's okay to remain in appreciative ignorance. Sometimes, not knowing can be sweeter. As psychologist Eric Berne once said, 

"The moment a little boy is concerned with which is a jay and which is a sparrow, he can no longer see the birds or hear them sing."  

As a writer who travels, I'm often too quick to put a label on the things I see. Sometimes it's better simply to enjoy them.