Talk about a DeJa’Vu moment! Looking back over our last two Aztec Peak trip reports (in fact, the only two), I discovered that I did this hike with our predecessor, the Motorola Hiking Club, and 17 other hikers exactly 22 years ago to the day on August 28, 1999. And not one single person in that group picture (below), except for me, is still hiking with this club. I must be getting really old, in fact let’s be honest about it, older than dirt.

This will give you an idea of what much of the Abbey Way Trail looked like in August, 2013:

Anyone recognize any of these people from 1999? I’m sure Michael does. And Ted Tenny as well.

Then flash forward to 14 years later, and here I am leading the second Aztec Peak hike on August 24, 2013, this time with the Arizona Trailblazers. And today, eight years later, we’re doing this hike for the third time, on August 28, 2021. Let’s not wait another 8 to 14 years to do this hike again.

The Coon Creek Fire of May, 2000, which torched nearly 10,000 acres of prime forests in the Sierra Ancha Wilderness surrounding Aztec Peak, was the result of yet another careless campfire that got out of control and created much of the downfall as seen in the following picture, which was a major reason, in addition to total lack of trail maintenance, for the difficulty in navigating this trail.

Today, 21 years later, much of the visual damage caused by that fire has been at least temporarily erased by the lush plant growth as a result of a very active monsoon season here in Arizona, not only in the desert regions but all over the state. But the after effects of a major wildfire like Coon Creek will take many decades to fully recover from.

Because of the badly overgrown trail conditions on our 2013 hike and recent conversations with two different Forest Service Rangers at the Payson Ranger District, indicating that trail conditions have only gotten worse over the years, I conferred at length with John before this hike.

After pouring over trail and road maps for the area and receiving some input from Michael as well, we decide to hike FR 487 to the peak and back rather than tackling the trail again. After finally reaching the peak in 2013, we decided our best option was to hike back on FR 487 instead of bushwhacking back down thru virtually impassable stretches of the trail again. And the scenery was just as good, if not better, because of clearer views from the road.

So the original plan for today was to drive to Workman Creek Falls (13 hikers in 3 vehicles), which I was told we could do in my earlier conversations with the Forest Service folks, park our vehicles there, then hike the remaining 3.5 miles to the peak on FR 487.

Butterfly #4 [photo by Li]

So we park our vehicles near the gate, then pile out and boot up for the hike ahead of us. But first we gather in a rough circle, make a quick round of introductions and mention our first hike with the Motorola Hiking Club (for a few of us anyway) or the Arizona Trailblazers, or at least the first hike with either club that we can remember.

Most are hikes the club has done on several occasions, with a few not so much. Introductions over and a final gear check completed, we’re off and hiking up the road by 8:45 AM on a bright and sunny late August morning in the Sierra Anchas, overlooking Roosevelt Lake far below.

It isn’t too long before the group starts spreading out on the trail, typical for any group of over 4 to 6 hikers. Faster hikers who want to reach the destination first, in this case the peak itself, are always in the lead, with slower hikers bringing up the rear, and everyone else somewhere in the middle.

I typically stay near the rear to make sure the slowest hikers don’t get left behind. The longer the hike distance, the more spread out the group becomes, to the point where there might be a quarter-mile spread between the two ends. That’s where our two-way radios come in handy, so the three groups of hikers can stay in touch with one another in case of problems or to note trail hazards, horses or bikers coming down the trail, or trail junctions.

Onward and upward we continue trudging on FR 487, upward being the key word here, since we have a little over 1,400 feet of climbing to do before reaching Aztec Peak. Thankfully, we have good forest cover on both sides of the trail, with a lot of shade this early in the day. Hiking back down later in the day will likely be a different story, but it’s all good for now.

According to Terry’s Garmin, our starting temperature is a comfortable 78 degrees. You can’t beat that for a late August hike.

After almost a mile of hiking and gaining several hundred feet of elevation, we finally converge on Workman Creek Falls, at an elevation of 6,447 feet. And once again, just as with our 1999 and 2013 hikes, the falls is a mere trickle today. Several weeks ago, when up to 3 or more inches of rain fell across some areas of the state, this falls probably looked a lot different. But definitely not anything like it did during the infamous Labor Day storm of 1970, when an unprecedented and record-breaking 18 inches of rain fell across much of the Mogollon Rim, nearly 12 inches of rainfall pummeled the Workman Creek area near the falls, and 5-10 inches of rain fell over a widespread area surrounding the creek and the falls.

Workman Creek Falls back then would probably have been described as nothing short of terrifying by any witnesses who may have stood near this very spot across from the falls during that Labor Day weekend super storm. Instead of a mere trickle, a raging river of muddy, debris-filled water was exploding off this cliff at an unimaginable rate of thousands of cubic feet per second, or millions of gallons per hour, enough raw power to literally shake the ground all around the falls and cause large rocks and boulders to tumble down from surrounding high places.

On September 4th and 5th of 1970, the remains of Tropical Storm Norma, still swollen with moisture from the Gulf of Baja, pushed its way into central Arizona and spawned the deadliest storm in Arizona’s history, with severe and widespread flooding that resulted in 23 deaths. Dozens of creeks, streams, and rivers burst from their banks and resulted in the single deadliest flash flood in state history, when 14 people were caught up in a massive flash flood and swept away along Tonto Creek near Kohl’s Ranch, where most of them were camping over the Labor Day weekend. Witnesses in the area estimated a 30-foot high wall of water and debris slammed down the creek, sweeping away homes, campers, cars, and people.

Looking at Workman Creek Falls today, it’s simply unimaginable and inconceivable to wrap our minds around such a tragic disaster that took so many innocent lives 51 years ago this September.

After over two hours of steady and mostly uphill hiking, we finally arrive at Aztec Peak, the highest point in the Sierra Ancha Range at 7,748 feet, a little before 11:00 AM. Massive sandstone chairs, two-ton recliners with arm rests, and a roomy picnic table that could easily seat up to 12 people and must weigh at least 8 to 10 tons altogether, with its four thick sandstone bench seats and large table top, greet us at the peak.

Are you kidding me? Is this Arizona’s version of Stonehenge or Easter Island? Actually, no, there’s a much simpler explanation to this mystery, but one that we wouldn’t learn until well after the 2013 hike.

So here is the real story, sent to me by one Bryan Frost after he read my Aztec Peak trip report in 2013:

“I came across this account of a hike by Arizona Trailblazers up Aztec Peak. An enjoyable read. Just to clear up one detail regarding the stone furniture you enjoyed on top. It was built by my brother, Richard Frost, who accompanied his wife Kathy, while she served as lookout. He was a strong man, certainly, and he had no help that I know of. He worked on the seats and tables over several seasons. I believe Kathy had written an account for an AZhiker site (not sure if I have that name right) some time ago. I saw a photo elsewhere that claimed they were built by boy scouts. Amazing what people will come up with in the absence of facts. My brother has passed away, but I like to think of people enjoying this bit of his legacy after a good climb.”

Then, to collaborate the origins of this Flintstone furniture even further, this is an Aztec Peak Facebook post, sent to me by Carolyn, from Richard Frost’s own son:

“The ‘flintstone furniture’ at the top was built by my dad Richard Frost. My mom, Kathleen Scotten (Frost), was a lookout for the forest service at the tower. He would camp out up there and over time, with strength and perseverance, moved those stones into place with ropes and his bare hands. He passed away years ago and it means a lot to my family that people still enjoy and respect the area today.”

Before we all forget, what’s the history behind the name Abbey Way Trail—the trail we would normally hike to Aztec Peak, except for being badly overgrown? This trail is named after Edward Abbey, author, lecturer, park ranger, fire lookout, and self-proclaimed rebel, environmental extremist, and desert anarchist, who worked as a Forest Service Fire Spotter in this very lookout tower during the summers of 1977, 1978, and 1979. The tower itself was constructed in 1956.

That experience, along with his years as a Park Ranger in Arches National Park, had a profound effect on Abbey and became the inspiration behind his book Confessions of a Barbarian. Abbey also wrote a number of other books, his most famous being Desert Solitaire and The Monkey Wrench Gang. I had the privilege of listening to Edward Abbey speak and read excerpts from several of his books at Scottsdale Community College in the early 1980s. Edward Abbey died at the age of 62 in 1989. The following is one of his more memorial quotes from Desert Solitaire, my favorite Edward Abbey book:

Wilderness is not a luxury but a necessity of the human spirit, and as vital to our lives as water and good bread. A civilization which destroys what little remains of the wild, the spare, the original, is cutting itself off from its origins and betraying the principle of civilization itself. We need wilderness whether or not we ever set foot in it. We need a refuge even though we may never need to set foot in it. We need the possibility of escape as surely as we need hope; without it the life of the cities would drive all men into crime or drugs or psychoanalysis.

After spending well over 30 minutes on the peak, resting, eating lunch, rehydrating, and taking lots of pictures, we decide to pack up and head back down the trail. And, as expected, it’s warmer on the hike back, especially the more exposed last mile or so after the waterfall. Although several weather forecasts called for mostly cloudy conditions today, it turns out to be just the opposite—mostly sunny conditions, with only a few scattered clouds thrown in for extra measure. So much for accurate weather forecasting.

By 1:00 PM, we all arrive safely back at our vehicles and prepare for the long drive back home. Except for one or two minor hiccups along the way, our third visit to Aztec Peak has been a great experience overall.