Getting Our Rocks Off: Chiricahua Nat'l Monument 3/3/11

Much to our surprise, Chiricahua National Monument made the list of the Twenty Least Visited National Monuments in 2009, clocking in at a relatively paltry 60,851 visitors. The source of our shock has much to do with what we thought was Arizona's popularity and appeal as an outdoor paradise, but also the stunning uniqueness of the site's "sky island" rock formations, beginning about 27 million years ago after the eruption of the Turkey Creek Volcano. Spewing ash over 1,200 square miles, the volcano produced heated particles that melted and cooled, cracked and shifted, and, via the usual erosive forces of ice and water, produced spires of stone that stagger the imagination with their beauty, breadth, and defiance of the ordinary. Chiricahua is a hiker's dream, and it seems more than a little odd that this has not become a mecca for the fit and the fearless. While we wouldn't be asking too much of our lungs on this visit, we can certainly understand the temptation to start on a trail, get lost, and never look back.

That said, this is not a site you can stumble upon by accident. Located 35 miles southeast of Willcox, the apparent closeness to civilization is almost laughably misleading, as one of Arizona's loneliest roads goes on and on and on, adding the unexpected treat of resembling a sun-baked roller coaster. Hungry? Low on fuel? Fill up both your belly and gas tank before heading out, as you'll encounter, well, absolutely nothing until you reach a sadistic visitor center that emptied its ancient shelves of sustenance long ago. Still, a bare cupboard is the least of the VC's problems. Let's take the ancient relic manning the register. I was damn near mummified after waiting several decades to purchase a magnet, and I'm pretty sure I was the very first person to whom she has counted back change. Hell, I'll be lucky to be upright at that age, but I'll also have the sense to know that I shouldn't be taking care of weary travelers at a national park site. I would have complained about the shabby ink pad that left our stamp appalingly light, but I'm not sure I had the patience to endure her confusing hunt for the "talking box" so that could pass along my concern.

Still, grandma was, against the odds, far from the oldest fixture at this New Deal-era visitor center. The film? Your guess is as good as mine, as I'm pretty sure a site with rocks should actually discuss said rocks. The exhibits? If your idea of informative is a grab bag of random objects from the "brand new" Civilian Conservation Corps, as well as placards using a font retired along with Joe McCarthy's career, then proceed with a toothy grin. And the computer that just might accept those eight-inch floppy discs with which one could play Oregon Trail? Who the hell knows. With so many sites getting new digs these days, clearly someone needs to take up Chiricahua's fight. Like, now.

Cheap shots aside, we're here for what the Apache called "standing up rocks." After leaving the VC, we hit the Bonita Canyon Drive, which is eight miles in length and climbs 1,500 feet in elevation before reaching its end at Massai Point. While that point produces the best views, the drive itself is packed with sights at the assorted pullouts, including the Organ Pipe Formation, Sea Captain, China Boy, and Echo Canyon. In addition to the rocks, there are endless seas of oak, ponderosa pine, and Douglas fir, along with a wilderness area that appears to extend forever. Yes, yes, we know all about the assorted hiking trails, but we would be content to stand before the Rhyolite Canyon with only the cool desert air to guide us. I hopped along the rocky path to reach the best vantage point, and I'm glad I did, as many of the rocks to my left were thinner and more striking than many seen elsewhere.

Did we stay long enough at Chiricahua? I fear not, but when you're covering the kind of ground we do in so short a time, pup tents and campfire chats are not in the cards. Everything we saw here was thrilling to be sure, but it's debatable whether we spent more time driving in than at the site itself. And to add to the frenzy, the time crunch forced us to leave nearby Fort Bowie National Historic Site in our wake, which has come to haunt us now that we know we could have driven the ranger access road instead of suffering through a three-mile roundtrip hike to the visitor center. Will we be back to right that wrong? You have been reading the blog, right? Count on it. Sooner than later. Mileage be damned.

FINAL RATING

8/10