What a beautiful day for a nice leisurely hike! It registered 38F at 6am and my truck's windshield was frozen over, but it turned into a mellow day with no wind.
It did look ominous at first, as we drove westward to the lake, across the post and through a low and thick fog bank. The snow-capped peaks of the Santa Ritas poked through the fog, but once on South AZ83 we were back on a clear ridge with the fog below.
There were six of us. Besides Kevin and I, Big Steve, Hannah, Paul and Eric showed up. It turns out that Eric's a big nature lover like me (we don't call ourselves birders since we don't watch out for exclusively birders but all animals). We even talked about coming back to the northern shore just to explore the cliffs, but that area may be private property. Eric, however, seemed delighted in the area and thanked me for showing him eagle habitat. He's been in Arizona for over ten years and never knew that bald eagles nested every winter at Parker Canyon Lake.
We started our hike at 8:30am, from the Marina Store walking clockwise. I like going this direction because it gives us two plus miles of easy hiking before we can take time out to look for bald eagles on the north shore. I walked in the rear so that my photography wouldn't slow down the others. I also stopped to pick up trash along the lake shore, trash that was mostly left behind by anglers and not Mexicans.
Kevin, however, spotted the first eagle while my eyes were focusing on the sky. The eagle was not in the sky, though, but perched on top of a dead tree. His yelling, however, convinced the bird to fly elsewhere. Rats!
The lake today was beautiful. The peaks reflected in the water. The water was calm, except for the parts where the coots chirped, the mallards quacked and herons flew overhead; each species claiming a different part of this man-made lake. And oh, how fresh the lake smelled! I hadn't enjoyed the cacophony of many birds since my days along the Texas shore, and before that, it was Sadam's Palace in Baghdad. (And that last one is a strange memory to have: the audio-visual image of fluty white-cheeked bubuls in date palm trees when incoming enemy rounds are trying to take us down will never leave my memory.)
"I haven't seen the water this high in years!" said Hannah as we crossed the spillway at the first mile. It had been too many years for me to remember the last water level, so I had nothing to compare it to. The trail, despite the recent snow and rains, wasn't muddy; any mud was mostly along the lake shore. A few felled trees were quickly pushed out of the way by the guys. The only snow around was the snow in the peaks. The lake shore was free of any ice or snow.
Eric and I at one point almost walked off the trail along the northern drainage creek and toward the red cliffs to get a closer look at the eagles, but the trail faded fast and we rejoined the others. The northern drainage creeks were wetter than usual, and the surrounding grasses were soggy. This was not a place to get lost or get wet.
When Eric and I made it back to the rest of the group, Kevin yelled out another eagle sighting. As a retired infantryman, he sure knows how to spot things! Without Kevin's help I doubt we would have been able to spot any eagles today. The others were impressed with Kevin's uncanny ability to spot the bird hidden in the tree.
We made it passed the northern fingers of this lake and were now in the central-eastern part of the lake when we finally spotted our first eagle. This eagle perched high in a tall pine tree. Its head was silhouetted against the light-grey sky. Without the binos I would not have been able to see the bird as it was well camouflaged. Without the binos the bird just looked like a dark blob in the tree.
We all stood there facing the north shore, in awe of this bird. Hannah, Eric and I were delighted to spot our first bald eagle of the year. Eric, like me, who's seen these beauties in Texas and Mid Atlantic states, wasn't quite so ecstatic, but was delighted nonetheless as this was his first Arizona sighting of a bald eagle.
The scenery from our vantage point was beautiful, too: the lake fingered north and east, with high ground in both directions. The water reflected calmly the peaks around us. Tall, dead reeds stood out from immediately in front of us. The water was clear as it flowed calmly from this northern drainage creek southward. And if you looked closely, you could spot new green growth from the perennial plants along the trail. I don't remember this man-made lake so beautiful. There was something serene about this vista. Absolutely lovely.
We had achieved our mission with spotting our eagle. I don't know how long we stood there, but I was glad to move on to warm up again. More anglers appeared along the southeastern shore, along with kids and small dogs and even a few rafters. This is where most of the trash floated along the mucky shore: plastic night crawler cups, beer bottles, plastic wrapping and beer cans. If anglers can drag their beer bottles to the shore fully loaded, why can't they also take their trash back out completely empty? I really have zero tolerance for environmental polluters. Luckily Hannah and then Eric helped pick up trash, and I was able to drop off the bag of stuff at the Marina Store.
Brenda, Gordon and her cousin Darian met us a mile from the marina walking counter-clockwise. They didn't want to hike as early as we so they went to the lake on their own. We chatted some more, got cold again, and finished off our five-mile hike by 1pm.
The Marina Store was now open and I got to meet the owner, Scott Kurr (or Kerr? I can't remember how he spelled it now!), a tall, square-jowled man with knit cap over his head who bought this marina last February. He didn't get a vending license until last July. The store is only open on the weekends 8-5pm but he will extend the hours come summer. The entire building is heated by solar panels, and the beams and doors are all from recycled materials. He is still working on the store's interior, which, despite his improvements, is still rather spartan. Scott was so thankful that we helped clean the lake shore that he gave me a free Diet Coke, which I greatly appreciated.
"Most of the people who leave trash behind are from Sierra Vista" said Scott. "People from Tucson don't trash this place."
"Yeah, Sierra Vista is a rednecky town" I added. That may have been an understatement.
Then I spotted his wood-burning stove in the corner. "I got that from one of the old houses around here. The doors and windows are from recycled parts, too" and he proceded to show me around the small store. "There's no electricity anywhere around this lake" said Scott, who proudly posed by his wood-burning stove. He's an avid kayaker and bought this property so he could stay in shape and earn enough money to take kayakers on trips to South America. "Business is good" he said, and the boaters, kayakers and anglers along the marina could attest to that claim.
We chatted about several hiking areas. "I was hiking right there (pointing to the Huachucas)last week and we were in three feet of snow!" said Scott. Why did I think of Bill when he said that? (Because Bill would have found snow even deeper!)
"Whenever you guys come back here to pick up trash, let me know. We'll even give you trash bags. Just leave the bags along the shore and we'll kayak out there to pick it up!" He was quite serious. "I normally have the Boy Scouts pick up trash several times a year, but any volunteers are always appreciated." Since our hiking club is responsible for the Arizona Trail from the Mexican border to Parker Canyon Lake, I should have volunteered our club's volunteer work group to help clear up any downed trees along the trail, but I didn't think of that until tonight.
The group waited for me outside and sat in the sun enjoying their packed sandwiches. Even Sadie got a treat: a can of Mexican spiced sausages, which I found at the one lone Mexican campsite along the trail. The sausages looked like small red-colored hot dogs. Yuck. She ate it all and wanted more, though.
I was so proud of Kevin today. Not only because he was able to stay with our group pace--not that we were conducting Olympic pre-trials anyway--but also because he didn't complain and even mentioned how much fun he had. He is looking almost too thin now, down to 182 pounds...which is now a mere 48 pounds more than me! I remember when he weighed over 90 pounds more.
We drove back home the way we came. The valley fog had all burned up by now, but the Santa Rita peaks were still surrounded by grey clouds. We stopped at WalMart to get the industrial-sized bags of bird seed. Sadie waited in the truck, resting in the back seat. When I got back to the truck first (Kevin was inside shopping for new jeans that actually fit; he's down to a size 34 waist) I let Sadie out to pee across the wooded area in case she needed to go. She wasn't interested in peeing and wanted to lay down instead. So she bolted back to the truck, nearly getting hit by one super-sized pick-up and a second sedan in the process. I saw everything happen. Panicked, she darted toward the truck in fear, tumbling down as the leash was tangling up around her hind legs. Now we both were panicked. Three people came to her rescue but she refused their help. She didn't stop at the truck, though, but continued in her tangled mess toward the store. My heart was racing at a mile a minute before I could catch up to her and grab her leash and free her. She was immediately calmer once her legs were free and tried to lick me in gratitude.
This whole incident lasted no more than 30 seconds, I'm sure, but here I was panicking and running after her yelling "SADIE, SADIE!" with Sadie showing no interested in stopping for me. Perhaps the leash was tightening around her and that feeling of no control of her own body frightened her more than the cars coming toward her in both directions?
By the time Kevin got back to the truck we were all at peace again. After a quick stop at the feed store, we were all home by 2pm with two older dogs happy to see us again.
Unfortunately, when I got to the computer to download my prize-winning photographs, my memory card failed. All I got were five shots, three of which were of the full moon setting behind the Huachucas this morning. I can't believe I don't even have one decent shot of today's lake shore hike. the only photograph that I was able to download was the photo of Scott. He gave me permission to photograph him, so I hope he doesn't mind me posting his portrait here and giving a good plug for his store.
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