Another get-together for our local motorcycle riding club has come and gone. It was held at Hannagan Meadow Lodge in the White Mountains of Arizona. This year we are missing a very vibrant, strong member of our club, a dear friend who passed away in December. It was a different sort of gathering without him, but we still managed to make the most of the riding. He would have wanted that.
Here are a few of the highlights from Hal’s and my experience.
Saturday morning, riding the part of a forest road that had been closed for about three years because of the wildfires of 2011. We had despaired of ever seeing it, until a year and a half ago when it re-opened. It was worth the wait. So beautiful, as always, and quiet:
Hal riding another forest road toward Springerville. We were on the way to check on the progress of seedlings that had been planted to help recover from the Wallow fire:
Seedlings were planted inside cones:
Some said it was a “failed experiment,” but we found more surviving seedlings than dead ones:
There were several that were this tall, and had a small cone on top! Worth the effort to replant and nurture, in my opinion.
Blue Point Vista in the afternoon, where we went to get cell service (sketchy) so I could “phone home:”
Later that evening, we had dinner with fellow riders. It was nice to sit and chat, relaxing, instead of standing around in full riding gear, ready to race off to the next destination.
On Sunday morning, we rode another forest road and saw a herd of deer. There were about 20 total that we saw that morning:
We got back to the lodge around 11 o’clock, stood around talking with part of the HML “family,” and loading the trailer until around noon, then began the (sad) journey home. I never want to leave the White Mountains, and our time there is always too short. It was quite a contrast to return to the heat and glare of the incessant sun. Overnight in the White Mountains, it had been in the low 50s F., and deep in the night, sleeping with the windows open, I heard the scream of a big cat from the darkness of the forest.
The White Mountains are a beautiful, unique place, away from the constant “noise” of everyday life, and always a welcome relief for me.