Thursday, January 16, 2014

Goodness Gracious, Great Balls of Volcanic Ejecta!

Lenox Crater Trail
Sunset Crater Volcano NM, Arizona
1 mile round-trip, moderate
Over the years, the lovely ruins of Wupatki, the lofty cliff dwellings of Walnut Canyon, and the lava-themed attractions of Sunset Crater have become favorite layovers on road trips between Flagstaff and the Grand Canyon.  When we're in the neighborhood and in a scrambling frame of mind, we hike the Lenox Crater Trail at Sunset Crater. 

 After all, it's not every day that one has both opportunity and inclination to climb an eroded cinder cone.  The parking area for this hike overlooks a stretch of the Bonito Lava flow, a craggy river of basalt emanating from the base of nearby Sunset Crater.  As we amble to the trailhead and begin our ascent, we engage in recitation of the basaltic lava types: rough, irregular Aa, smooth, unbroken Pahoehoe.  Sorry, no bonus points awarded for wise-guy mention of pillow lava, as this term applies to submarine eruptions, and we are clearly in a landlocked situation.

Climbing Lenox Crater, December 2012.
Crunch, crunch... slide.  Our previous encounters with the crumbly terrain of Lenox Crater have proven comically confounding: idiomatic two-steps forward and one-step backward affairs.  On this day, however, Lenox Crater is blanketed in late-December snow, prompting reassessment of the hiking surface.  Volcanic cinder is easier than beach sand, more difficult than tamped soil.  Snow atop volcanic cinder, we discover, produces surprisingly reliable footing.
 
The air is cold and clear, clean and bright, punctuated only by snow-muffled footfall and rhythmic uphill breathing.  A spattering of ponderosa pine have taken root along the slope.  There are wildflowers in warmer months, but the cinder has not yet sufficiently degraded to support abundant vegetation.

View from Lenox Crater, April 2002.
Other than much-appreciated leveling of the trail, there is little indication that we have arrived at our summit destination.  The cone's telltale vent has long-since eroded away, and there is a paucity of signage and interpretive hoopla along the way.  But quite suddenly, here we are: we wander about the 7000-foot-give-or-take hilltop, absorbing lovely three-hundred-sixty-degree views.  Today, the panorama is swathed in exquisite winter white.

View from Lenox Crater, San Francisco Peaks, December 2012.
To the west are the San Francisco Peaks, including 12633-foot Mt. Humphreys, the highest point in Arizona.  These splendid mountains are eroded remains of an enormous stratovolcano complex, a picturesque mélange of viscid lava, tephra, and pyroclastic flow. 

Lenox Crater, February 1997.
Looking across the rugged volcanic landscape, we imagine what it must have been like here nearly a millennium ago when the volcanic field was churning and burning, with daytime sky black as night and nighttime horizon glowing red like fire. Archaeological and ecological evidence suggests that indigenous peoples endured earthquakes, ground-shaking fire bombs, billowing ash clouds, downpours of falling cinder, and concomitant forest fires.  Enough was enough: Native populations migrated away from the volcanic activity, relocating south to Walnut Canyon or north to Wupatki.

Taking a Break with View of Sunset Crater, April 1999.
To the east, Sunset Crater looms over a sweep of solidified lava and volcanic detritus.  Closed to hiking due to erosional damage, the red-tinged cinder cone escaped destruction by dynamite in 1929, nearly sacrificed for the Hollywood production of Zane Grey’s Avalanche.  Thankfully, local citizenry took exception to the proposal and lobbied for the cinder cone’s preservation and protection.  President Herbert Hoover established the monument in May 1930, safeguarding Sunset Crater and surrounding geologic formations from human-creative-exploiter types.

Resting on Sun-Warmed Cinder, December 2012.
Downhill Return Hike, December 2012.
Step, step... slide.  The half-mile descent is two parts downhill trek, one part glissade.  Upon return to the trailhead, we invariably witness the following scene:
A rental vehicle is parked awkwardly in the vicinity of our vehicle, driver and passenger tentatively confined in said vehicle.  Driver exchanges words with passenger; passenger gesticulates impatiently; driver exits vehicle; driver briefly considers nearby Bonito Lava Flow; driver pops trunk or hatch; driver rummages with great vigor for minuscule item concealed amidst luggage and vacation paraphernalia; driver locates minuscule item; driver briefly reconsiders nearby Bonito Lava Flow; driver re-enters vehicle; driver exchanges words with passenger; passenger gesticulates impatiently; driver exits vehicle, etc.  Every.  Single.  Time.

Sunset Crater, December 2012.
Makes us wonder.  Every.  Single.  Time.  In geologic terms, though, this peculiar anthropological ritual is short-lived—and on balance, our visits to Lenox Crater prove visually stimulating and physically invigorating, offering unique insight into the Colorado Plateau's most recent volcanic event.