Your morning vert: Grizzly Peak D from Loveland Pass

Grizzly Peak D, near Loveland Pass, Colorado.

My first trip up to Loveland Pass was two-fold in purpose. First, I wanted to see what the hiking was like. Second, I wanted easily accessible mountains close to Denver where I could get a little altitude.

I checked both boxes with a short hike to Mount Sniktau three years ago, a good training exercise just days before a more difficult outing far to the southwest in the San Juan Range redoubt of Chicago Basin.

But as a bonus, I got to see a more extensive trail system that led to a number of other peaks nearby. A year later I was back, but adverse weather conditions cut my trip short, with just a quick jaunt up Cupid, a 13,000-foot bump near Sniktau, as my sole summit. Still, that hike allowed me to get a closer look at its taller neighbor, Grizzly Peak D, and a couple of 14ers in the distance, Grays Peak and Torreys Peak.

A wise retreat that day left me hoping to return and go a little farther down the trail to get my next Loveland Pass summit.

Another two years passed before I got my shot. Following a great three days in New Mexico, I was hoping to build on my altitude training by coming back up the pass to explore more of the area.

Grizzly Peak D is, in its neighborhood, a relatively minor summit along the Continental Divide. At 13,427 feet above sea level, it’s overshadowed by its 14er neighbors, and doesn’t have the dramatic profile of some of the other 13ers nearby like Lenawee and the Citadel. But for my purposes, it was perfect.

I hiked this one solo. Which is to say, in the Front Range during the summer months, hiking solo doesn’t mean you’re alone. A half-dozen other people were on the route that day, with two couples sporting dogs.

Front Range morning views.

The entire route is above treeline, with the trailhead at the top of the pass – 11,990 feet above sea level. You get a few dozen yards of easygoing strolling before the route steepens dramatically. It’s a shock to the system, especially for a flatlander like me. But unlike the past couple of times I was here, it didn’t feel as rough as normal. Plenty of hard breathing to be sure, but I made good time to a turnoff away from the Sniktau route and toward Cupid.

That piece of trail is pleasant hiking, being relatively flat. A quarter-mile later, a series of switchbacks starts the vert in earnest to gain the ridge connecting Cupid with Point 12,915. Soon after, I was atop Cupid – just as scenic as I remembered it, but this time with clear, blue skies and none of the threatening weather that was present a couple of years earlier.

Going up Cupid, looking toward Mount Sniktau.

It also gave me a good view of the connecting ridge between Cupid and Grizzly D.

My memory failed me a bit, seeing that I thought I remembered only one bump on the ridge between the two mountains. Inspecting the route now, I saw plenty of up-and-down between me and my goal – a series of small high points on the ridge that signaled a surprising amount of vert to be gained on what is just a 5.5-mile round trip.

Coming down Cupid, looking at Grizzly Peak D and the connecting ridge.

Grizzly D, with Torreys Peak and Grays Peak seen to the left and in the distance.

On the way up Cupid, I passed the first couple I met, two Colorado natives and their dog who were repeating the Grizzly D climb. They weren’t in a rush and were happy to chat. I envied them a bit, as it seemed like they lived close enough to make hikes like this a regular part of what they do. No such opportunity at home for me, deep in the Southern Plains. Grizzly D was a bigger deal to me than them. Still, outpacing a Colorado pair gave me a little confidence boost. Maybe my conditioning was a little better than I thought.

Heading down Cupid, the scale of these “bumps” became clearer. The hiking up and around them was steeper than they seemed at first glance, but again, I was feeling pretty good and plowed through. Going over the last one, I got a good look at the path up Grizzly D: It looked steep, and ahead of me, a couple of other hikers were picking their way up.

In the middle of the ridge, looking back on Cupid and a high spot on the ridge.

Still in the middle of the ridge, looking toward another high spot, with Grizzly D in the background.

I figured it would be a lung-buster, but the final ascent was only about 500 feet or so. I could grind this out and reach the summit without eating too much time.

The hike up Grizzly’s summit pitch was as tough as it looked. Already, I was dreading the downclimb, as the path was steep and, in spots, sandier than I would have preferred. My pace slowed some, but I could tell that I was closing in on the pair I spied a few minutes earlier. I had no plans to catch them – I mean, what would that actually prove? – but it was useful observing them and the time it was taking them to negotiate sections of the climb that were still ahead of me.

Starting up Grizzly D. looking back toward Cupid. Not bad at this point, but it was getting ready to get steeper.

About three-quarters of the way up, it seemed the route relented a bit and before long I was on top. A younger couple, also from Colorado, and their dog were resting and taking in the views when I got there.

“You were making good time,” the man told me.

“Yeah, I’m feeling pretty good today,” I replied, letting my head swell a little bit at the idea of being close to passing two – count em, two! – pairs of Colorado natives with my flatlander legs and lungs.

On the Grizzly D summit, looking toward Torreys Peak (left) and Grays Peak.

Summit view looking west.

We all looked toward Torreys Peak, and what would have been a ridge traverse very similar to what we just did, just much longer and bigger. It wasn’t in the cards time-wise for me, and really, I wasn’t here to blow myself out just for some hiking bragging rights. I still had a couple days of mountain ascents ahead of me. I snacked a bit, drank up and headed back down the mountain.

The downclimb turned out to be easier than I thought. Part of the reason is I spent my winter and spring pounding my legs in the weight room. It’s amazing how much that made a difference, both going up and down the hill. I also descended at my own pace, which is pretty slow. But I felt good when I got to the bottom.

Looking at Cupid on the way down.

It was there that I ran into my last pair of hikers on the route. Two fellas were on their way up, and we talked for a bit about the mountain and what they were up to.

These guys were 69 and 70 years old. I can’t tell you how encouraging it is to see people at that age still slaying summits. Even better, the older of the two was doing his last training hike before heading up to Washington state to climb Mount Rainier, a mountain he’d already climbed years ago. They passed along some tips on breathing technique, and you can bet your butt that I listened.

Now down from Grizzly’s summit ridge, I looked at the work ahead. Unlike most mountains, this one wasn’t a lengthy downhill to the trailhead. Instead, it means going up and over all the stuff I’d already done just to get here. The sneaky fact about this hike is even though the elevation distance between the trailhead and the Grizzly D summit is a tad over 1,500 feet, the actual elevation change you experience is closer to 3,000 feet. Regaining all those bumps on the ridge as well as the Cupid summit proved a bit tougher on the way back. Ordinarily, the trip down is much quicker than the ascent, but not so this time. My pace got a little more leisurely as the morning wore on, and the sandy surface of the trail on the last half mile or so was a nuisance, threatening to upend me and land me on my butt more than a few times.

Pleasant singletrack hiking back to the car.

When it was done, I got exactly what I wanted: a few miles at elevation, a new summit, and a look at a more ambitious hike for the future, maybe with a partner. I envision an earlier start, parking one car at the pass, another at Stevens Gulch, and hiking from the pass to Grizzly D, then on to Torreys Peak and Grays Peak before heading to the second car waiting below. That would be a big day, but possible.

And that’s what I like about Loveland Pass. It’s close enough to Denver to avoid the commitment of climbs farther west, but it’s also filled with possibilities for future efforts. There’s still plenty left for me to do.

I dig the colors of the alpine.

GETTING THERE: From Denver, take I-70 west until you get to the U.S. 6 west exit, which takes you to Loveland Pass. At the top of the pass is parking on both sides of the road.

ABOUT THE ROUTE: From the trailhead, hike up some stairs, then toward the hillside leading to a high point between Mount Sniktau and Cupid. Instead of hiking to the top of the high point, turn right at a side trail that takes you toward Cupid. This will be easy hiking for about a quarter mile before reaching some switchbacks that gain the ridge leading to Cupid. The trail can take you to Cupid’s rocky summit, or you can bypass it just below the top before getting a look at the remainder of the route. Descend Cupid along the ridge and you will encounter four bumps between Cupid and Grizzly D. Some of the hiking is somewhat steep. Upon passing the last bump in the ridge, the rest of the route leads to Grizzly D’s summit. This is the steepest part of the hike, but does not exceed Class 2. The route eases somewhat close to the top before putting you at Grizzly D’s summit.

EXTRA CREDIT: Tackle Torreys Peak by hiking the ridge between it and Grizzly D. And if you’re really feeling yourself, continue on to Grays Peak, This would best be done with a two-car strategy, with one left at the Stevens Gulch trailhead and the other at Loveland Pass.

Bob Doucette

Exploring Cimarron, New Mexico, and the Valle Vidal

Woodlands in the Valle Vidal, near Cimarron, N.M.

My affection for New Mexico goes back years. Almost two decades, actually. Long before the cultural touchstones of “Breaking Bad”, but long after Georgia O’Keeffe worked her magic, I drove to this state’s northern reaches and saw something that reminded me of childhood adventures in the Rockies west of Denver.

The Sangre de Cristo Range has all the alpine wonder you’d expect farther north, even if most of this state has a more arid character. But where it differs from its northern neighbor is its ability to maintain its character, a mosaic of the West mostly untainted by rampant development that is clogging Colorado’s Front Range and Eastern Slope.

Yes, the state has its tourist draws. But beneath the veneer of tourism lies the state’s older character, a history steeped in Spanish settlements dating back five centuries, of rich Native American heritage, and of Old West vocations rooted in ranching.

The mountains attract people for a lot of reasons, but the main difference I see here and in the state where I grew up is that enjoying them in Colorado often involves extended stays on clogged highways filled with people afflicted by the same high country lust I have. In New Mexico, you can bask in the high country and feel a part of the landscape without having to endure the gridlock farther north.

I make a pilgrimage west at least once a year, and this time gave me a little more time to wander, and in this case, take a trip down south. It’s been 11 years since I spent any time here, and upon my return I found that New Mexico has lost none of its flavor.

CIMARRON

As luck would have it, I’ve got friends here. A married couple I know from my local outdoor community had recently packed up and moved to the tiny burg of Cimmaron with a combination of longstanding dreams meeting at a confluence in New Mexico’s eastern slope. Colin Tawney has long wanted to move West, and his wife, Erin Tawney, had been intrigued at the idea of running a bed and breakfast.

They found one in Cimarron, and the Blue Dragonfly Inn was born.

When we pulled in, I was surprised how big the place was. It’s got enough room for a couple of families at a time, and sports a large indoor swimming pool, exercise equipment, commons areas and a sweet back porch where you can take in the sweeping views of the nearby mountains and hummingbirds feasting on flowers and nectar feeders hung from a nearby tree. The porch ended up a favorite spot for me to catch up on some reading while watching the afternoon monsoon storms bloom to the west.

The Tawneys have a large van that can pick people up from nearby airports or take groups on excursions. There’s plenty to do here, and Colin sees his enterprise and the town of Cimarron itself as a great base for hikers, mountain bikers, anglers and hunters. Eagle Nest Lake is not far, so kayaking and stand-up paddleboarding are also good summer options.

Also helping the cause: Erin can cook. Three fantastic breakfasts in a row, and she has recipes to account for people on special diets, be they vegan, gluten-free, or just about anything else.

Back porch view at the Blue Dragonfly Inn.

Breakfast is served: Egg fritatta with Italian sausage and marinara, sweet potato fries and a choice of fruit. Holy cow, this was good.

The Blue Dragonfly Inn.

The Inn has other amenities as well, including free Wi-Fi and complimentary Netflix. (If you want to know more, look up the Blue Dragonfly Inn on Facebook.)

The town itself punches above its weight, considering its size and relative distance from larger cities or ski resorts. We found excellent food at the St. James Hotel, and The Porch is also highly recommended. East of town there is a place called the Colfax Tavern, but most people here know it simply as “Cold Beer.” That moniker, derived from the sign advertising its wares, even gave birth to a craft brew lager they have specially made and shipped in from Oregon. It’s great on draft and goes well with the fresh pizzas or short rib pork.

For those looking for a bit of history, there are antique stores in town as well as a sawmill museum.

THE VALLE VIDAL

At Ring Camp in the Valle Vidal.

Logging and ranching built Cimarron, but the town butters its bread on its proximity to the Philmont Scout Ranch, a huge facility that hosts tens of thousands of Boy Scouts every year. Scouts take off from the camp and into an extensive trail system weaving its way through evergreen forests and mountains that top 12,000 feet.

The land surrounding the camp is the Valle Vidal, 101,794 acres of alpine forests, meadows and hills that lie at the foot of the Sangre de Cristo Range. It was once owned by wealthy landowner, then Pennzoil Corporation before being donated as an addition to the Carson National Forest. It’s now protected public land, and being surrounded in part by Philmont and a sprawling ranch owned by Ted Turner, encroachment via commercial development is a nearly nonexistent threat. Ranchers can graze cattle here, but other than that, the Valle Vidal is allowed to remain wild.

As I mentioned before, Colin and Erin are serious trail enthusiasts. Both are avid mountain bikers, and they’ve already found some sweet places to ride. But they’re always looking for more, and hope to one day perhaps create mountain bike events that traverse the ample trail system in the Valle Vidal.

We picked a day to scout out some of those trails, driving to a trailhead where we could do a simple out-and-back hike to a logging ghost town called Ring Town.

Out first stop took us to Ring Camp, an active facility run by Philmont. “Welcome to Ring Camp!” was the greeting we got from four young folk employed by Philmont and charged with looking after the place while also seeing to the needs of Boy Scout groups that passed through in the middle of backpacking trips that spanned two weeks at a time.

They hailed anywhere from Maryland to Texas and many places in between. I never had a summer job that looked as good as they gig these four had.

Taking off from there, we followed jeep paths through a pasture and some very wary cows. My wife, Becca, noticed that one horned bovine watched us intently the entire time while calves bellowed for their mothers as we passed. Not quite a wildlife experience, but it’s worth noting to be cool and calm as to not upset creatures that are much bigger than you.

Colin checks out the remains of a fallen windmill at Ring Town.

About 2.5 miles in, we ran into Ring Town. Or at least what’s left of it. My guess is this was a timber community for a time, but had long since gone under. We found the remains of windmills and water tanks scattered across the banks of a stream nearby. Colin went looking for a cemetery that was supposed to be close by, but building storm clouds cut that search short.

On the return trip, those clouds unleashed on us. Lightning was a concern — New Mexico has the highest death rate by lightning in the country. And when the rain started dumping on us, we were right in the middle of a wide pasture without any cover in sight. Fortunately, there were no close calls, just a good bit of sogginess. It was one of the faster — and wetter — mile-long stretches I’ve hiked.

Wrinkles like that can make a hike that much more memorable. The Tawneys got to stretch their legs and explore new places for their bikes. Bec got to test out her new kicks. And with the bulk of the hike between 8,200 and 8,400 feet above sea level, I got some badly needed activity at elevation just prior to some summit hikes I’d planned later in the week.

Looking back, the time we spent in the Valle Vidal reminded me why I like New Mexico so much: Random points of interest and people mixed in with unspoiled mountain scenery, the quiet sounds of nature, and the slowed pace of a land mostly free from the machinery of civilization. Who knows how long that will last. But for now, it’s still there, far from the busy interstates and busy metropolises that dominate elsewhere.

Bob Doucette

An Arkansas outdoor adventure overview

As you might expect, there is a lot to see and do in a place like this.

You can’t encapsulate the outdoors offerings in Arkansas in a couple of blog posts, just like you can’t see it all in three days. Like most of you, I’m a working stiff that has to fit all this fun into small bits scattered between long stints at work.

But I did some research, reached out to some friends, and pulled together a more comprehensive look at what’s happening in this state, particularly in its northwest corner.

In my first post, I mentioned something about the Interior Highlands, which is in an area that covers parts of Arkansas, Missouri and Oklahoma. The Ozarks dominate the northern part of the highlands while the Ouachitas make up the bulk of the south.

The biggest section of the Interior Highlands is in Arkansas, and this is also where it is at its wildest. The trails are long and winding, the woods are thick and scenic, and though none of the mountains here go much higher than 2,700 feet above sea level, you can find some decent vertical gain – more than 1,500 feet of it on Magazine Mountain.

What this means is you have a place that is prime for outdoor recreation, sports and just relaxing outside.

A few years back, Outside Magazine surprised a lot of people when it named Chattanooga, Tennessee, as its top destination city for the outdoors. The secret has long been out, and people are heading to eastern Tennessee to see what wonders await.

But here’s the thing: Many of the things about Chattanooga that appeal to the outdoorsy set also exist in the Ozarks. For the most part, that fact remains mostly under wraps unless you live there or in one of Arkansas’ neighboring states.

That’s  starting to change. Arkansans are beginning to realize the outdoor recreation potential for their state, and people are taking notice.

So here are some other things you should know about the adventures you can have in Arkansas…

MOUNTAIN BIKING

Mountain biking is becoming (already is?) huge in northwest Arkansas. The state’s hilly, wooded terrain contains lots of flowy singletrack, giving you anything from easy cruisers to highly technical routes.

Check out Slaughter Pen Trail out of Bentonville, or Womble on Mount Ida. And so many more. Many mountain biking trails connect to city trails around Bentonville, Fayetteville and so forth.

“Arkansas is chock full of great places to ride,” said Cleo Berninger, a Tulsa-based cyclist with a number of races under her belt.  “A wide variety of experiences are available, depending on what I want:  Hobbs is great in that it’s not a long drive from Tulsa, it’s a go-to for when Tulsa is muddy.  I love Lake Leatherwood trails in a Eureka Springs, bench cut trails… (it) feels like you are way, way out, but in truth it’s in town. Syllamo Trails at Blanchard Springs is the whopper, technical, beautiful, so challenging and days’ worth of adventure. Back 40 and Ilk are great training AND socializing. So much to do in Bentonville, it’s especially good for mixed groups where maybe not every individual wants to be on the trail.”

Eric Doswell, another Tulsa-based cyclist who also builds bikes, shares the same enthusiasm for the state’s growing mountain biking scene.

“I personally like Hobbs State Park near Rogers, it’s a nice 8 or 14 mile loop system with rolling contours singletrack.  The Womble and Ouachita trails are great for a more backcountry experience, and can be hooked together for a whopper all-day epic ride.

“In the Bentonville metroplex there is Slaughter Pen, which is accessible from multiple points along a paved trail system through the city, which also connects to The Back 40 in Bella Vista. Farther away from the city, the Lake Ouachita Vista Trail and Upper Buffalo Trails are epic backcountry experiences.”

You can find out more about Arkansas cycling here.

CLIMBING

Arkansas’s mountainous regions are loaded with cliffs and crags, giving you plenty of options for bouldering, top-roped sport climbs and multi-pitch trad routes. None of them will be the massive walls of the Rockies or the Sierras, but make no mistake: Arkansas is a climbing state.

In addition to what I mentioned earlier at Magazine Mountain, Horseshoe Canyon Ranch is a popular destination for climbers in Arkansas. The state is known for its quality sandstone precipices, all of which is present at Horseshoe Canyon.

“I’ve been visiting Horseshoe since 2006 and it’s still our favorite place to go climbing in the Midwest,” says Jacquelyn Musgrove, an Oklahoma City-based climber, cyclist and climbing coach. “Horseshoe is amazing for people who want amazing climbs with little fuss with longer rigorous approaches to some of the best rock faces around. You can tent camp or rent one of their cabins. Horseshoe is great for all types of climbers and for us having a toddler, we love taking Max. With the short approaches and nice cabins its perfect for those not looking to rough it.

“With the Midwest’s mild winters, we go year-round.”

More information on climbing sites in Arkansas can be found here.

HIKING

Where you have trails, hills and woods, you have hiking. Arkansas’ national forests and state parks are loaded with trails. Some are as basic as easy day hikes, but for the backpacking set, you can spend a good chunk of time thru-hiking the Ouachita Trail, which weaves through the hills of the Ouachita Mountains in northwest Arkansas and southeastern Oklahoma.

As a bonus: Depending on what time of the week you hike, you’re likely to find some solitude on the more rugged trails, and wildlife viewing abounds. Arkansas is home to deer, bear, and any number of species of birds. The forests themselves are a sweet mix of broadleaf and pines – the best of what makes Southern woodlands so great. For more color, plan your hikes for mid-October to early November and catch the fall foliage of the Ozarks and Ouachitas.

A popular destination for the day-hiker crowd: Devil’s Den. Read two people’s experiences at Devil’s Den here and here.

For other hiking options, find your next big hike here.

RIVER ADVENTURE

You’d think any talk of river systems in Arkansas would include its namesake, and that would be cool – the Arkansas River is one of the country’s great waterways – but the best river adventure in the state is along the Buffalo River.

Spend a week floating the Buffalo River, and pull off to find waterfalls, great hikes and excellent mountain scenery. Paddle, hike, fish and camp. You’ll be hard-pressed to pack in more outdoor activities than you can find here.

A little more about the Buffalo River can be found here.

So there you have it. Whether you’re looking for hardcore outdoor adventure or something more relaxing, you can find all of that in Arkansas. Do a little research, find a destination and head out. The state can prove that you don’t have to travel halfway across the country for a little adventure.

Bob Doucette

An overview of Arkansas’ Mount Magazine State Park

A view south from Magazine Mountain.

In the last post, I spent a good amount of time describing a classic Arkansas hike, the Magazine Mountain Trail. But I’d be remiss if I ended the description of this mountain and accompanying state park there.

Magazine Mountain is a big place, and being a plateau formation, there is a lot of space at the top. Planners made sure that the state park offered a number of options for visitors regardless of their physical fitness, ambitions and whatnot.

That’s what we’re going to go over here: the best of the rest of Magazine Mountain and Mount Magazine State Park. Here goes…

ACCOMODATIONS

The park includes a 60-room lodge with a swimming pool, restaurant and bar. The Skycrest Restaurant has a quality menu with good service and outstanding views looking south and west from the top of the mountain. Rates vary by season, but go anywhere from $128-$228 a night, depending on the size of the room you get.

The park also includes 13 cabins, one to three bedrooms/bathrooms, and all are ADA-compliant. Like the lodge, winter rates are lower, but in-season daily rates vary from $218-$478. Dog-friendly options are available in three cabins, but there is an extra fee. All cabin kitchens are fully equipped, and the cabins also feature clothes washer/dryer, decks overlooking the countryside and hot tubs.

Campsite at the Cameron Bluff Campground. (Craig Cook photo)

Finally, there are the campsites. The Cameron Bluff Campground offers 18 sites with water and electrical hookups, parking areas large enough for RVs, tent pads, grills and fire pits (firewood is available for purchase at the visitors center). There is also a centralized building with restrooms and showers. Campsites are $28-$32 a night. If you are camping, keep your food and any fragrant items locked in your car or hang a bag from a high tree limb, as bears are known to be in the area.

A full rundown on lodging can be found here.

TRAILS

From the Signal Hill Trail.

Not every trail on the mountain is a day-long hike. Several other trails exist that go anywhere from less than a mile to 2.8 miles, and many can be linked. They vary in difficulty, but most of them are accessible to people of nearly all fitness levels.

The top of Signal Hill on Magazine Mountain, the highest point in Arkansas.

Craig and I hiked a couple of them. The first was the Signal Hill Trail, which was right by our campsite. It was about a mile round-trip and not difficult and takes you to the highest point in the state. At the top is a sign, a map and a mailbox with a registry where you can sign in. There is also a USGS marker officially showing where the high point is.

On the Bear Hollow Trail. (Craig Cook photo)

From the Benefield picnic area, we took the Benefield Loop Trail to the Bear Hollow Trail. The route is 2.8 miles one way, ending on the other side of the mountain near the Horse Camp. This one is tougher than the Signal Hill Trail, but not as difficult or wild as the Magazine Mountain Trail. The views are stunning, particularly if you’re looking for a sunrise photo. There is one minor creek crossing and two points where you can see expansive views of the eastern flanks of the mountains and seemingly endless woodlands fanning out hundreds of feet down and many miles toward the horizon. If you go here, be sure to find Inspiration Point. It does not disappoint. Overall, the Bear Hollow Trail gives you a wilder experience without the commitment required of the Magazine Mountain Trail.

There are numerous other trails we didn’t have the time to hike, but if you want to learn more about them, check this link.

A view from a north rim scenic pullout, easily accessible on foot, on bike or by car.

There is a one-way paved roadway that can take you to what are, at sunset, the best views on the mountain. The road skirts the Cameron Bluff campsites and offers two pullouts with incredible scenery looking across large cliffs below and toward the Boston Mountains to the north. There is a pavilion and a seating area that are popular with visitors; the stone seating area is often used as an outdoor wedding venue. After a hard day of hiking, this is an excellent place to drive or ride your bike (they have marked bike lanes) to catch the sunset in what may be one of the most beautiful scenes in all of Arkansas, and that’s saying something.

ROCK CLIMBING

Where there are cliffs, you’re bound to find some rock climbing. That’s true on the mountain.

Bouldering, sport climbing and rappelling are allowed in a designated area on the mountain’s south bluff overlooking the Petit Jean River Valley. According to the park’s website, the mountain has a 1,500-foot wide stretch of sandstone with more than 100 routes up to 80 feet high, ranging from 5.5 to 5.12c in difficulty, with plenty in the 5.10 and under range. I didn’t have time to check these out, but maybe next time.

Before rock climbing here, you are required to register at the state park visitor center. More information on climbing routes can be found here.

MOUNTAIN BIKING/CYCLING/ATVs/HORSEBACK

There are 34 miles of off-road biking available on the Huckleberry Mountain Trail, which is near the park on land in the Ozark National Forest. The trails are also used for ATV tours and riders on horseback.

If you’re not up for the dirt, you can rent bikes at the lodge and ride on the roads all around the park. In a similar vein, Magazine Mountain is a popular destination for motorcyclists, as the roads leading up to and around the mountain are packed with great scenery for a ride.

HANG GLIDING

The steep drop-offs at the top of the peak make Magazine Mountain an ideal place for hang gliding. Hang gliding takes place on the south side of the mountain. Anyone hang gliding must register at the visitor center. If you are a certified Class 4 flier, you can fly alone; Class 3 fliers can hang glide with another Class 4 flier. There is an established launch site on the mountain.

So there’s the basic rundown of Mount Magazine State Park. What I’ve told people is if you’re looking for high outdoor adventure, you can find it here. If you want chill, eat well and enjoy leisurely views, you can do that, too. And everything in between.

In the next post, I’ll go over a few more things you should know about Arkansas and why this might become the next big thing in outdoor adventure travel.

Bob Doucette

Hiking Arkansas’ Magazine Mountain Trail

Craig takes in the scene from an overlook on the trail.

Between the briars slicing open my shins and picking off a couple of ticks, there was one thing that I failed to notice, something my hiking partner Craig noted.

“What’s great about this is we haven’t seen another soul.”

He was right. We’d been on the trail for a couple of hours, and the only non-insect beings we saw were a couple of snakes, a few lizards, and some turkey vultures riding the air currents high above a steep, heavily wooded ravine.

Solitude is something I expect in the remote parts of the country, but not in the South. Sparsely populated western states offer plenty of alone time if you want it. That’s tougher to find in states where small towns dot the landscape and paved highways take you to the tops of mountains.

So it was remarkable that this hike, going up the Magazine Mountain Trail in northwest Arkansas, was one in which we were the only humans around.

I’ll take that every time.

Looking out over a rocky outcrop three miles in, I uttered what became the de facto humorous slogan of the trip: “This does not suck.”

ARKANSAS’ HIGH PLACE

A view looking south from near the top of Magazine Mountain.

Magazine Mountain (alternatively, and interchangeably, called Mount Magazine) is the highest mountain in Arkansas, rising to 2,753 feet. It was named by French explorers who, after witnessing a landslide on its flanks, likened the sound to a munitions magazine exploding.

It’s the monarch of the Ouachita Mountains, an ancient band of east-west ridges and mesas that once soared to heights equal to that of the Rockies, back before tectonic movement pushed it away from the Appalachians and into the heart of the interior highlands of Arkansas, Missouri and Oklahoma.

The Ouachitas are separated from the Boston Mountains and the rest of the Ozarks by the Arkansas River. Clothing the entire region are dense hardwood and lodgepole pine forests filled with life.

The mountain itself dominates the skyline south of the river. It’s a long plateau crowned with a rim of rugged cliffs at the top, offering spectacular views of the Ouachitas all the way into Oklahoma to the east and the Boston Mountains to the north.

The mountain is mostly inside national forest land, though the top of the formation is land owned by the state, Mount Magazine State Park. The state park and the National Forest Service have a great partnership here, and part of that is maintaining a route that is one of Arkansas’ classic hikes, the 9.7-mile Magazine Mountain Trail.

Most people hike the peak from campgrounds at the top of the mountain down to Cove Lake, 1,500 feet below. But a downhill hike is not what Craig and I are accustomed to.

In some ways, Craig and I are similar hikers. We’re both flatlanders who have found ourselves at home hiking Colorado’s 14,000-foot peaks, and have a similar number of summits. But we have key differences, namely that he’s much faster at altitude and is seemingly tireless. Me? Not so much.

Thankfully, the altitudes of Arkansas aren’t nearly the factor that they are in Colorado. Otherwise I would have been eating Craig’s dust most of the way yet again.

A WALK IN THE WOODS

The low part of the trail, maybe a mile from the lower trailhead.

Our plan was to drive one of our cars to the lake, hike to the top, then use the other car to retrieve the first. The only other option would have been to do a round-trip hike that would have approached 20 miles. Both of us had done that before, but we were looking more for fun rather than something more demanding.

The trailhead at the lake is easy to miss, but a small parking area (big enough for two cars) revealed the start of the route. I had to remind myself that spring is the time where every fallen tree branch could be a snake. And that turned out to be true. Less than a mile in, a two-foot black snake sat in the middle of the trail, sunning itself, and not at all concerned with us. We were cool with that.

The trail was mostly an up-and-down affair, and then about three miles in, we climbed up to a cliff side that revealed some sweet views of nearby ridges and woodlands. Someone had set up a fire ring at that outcropping, so I suppose you could consider that place as a potential campsite. I guess that would be fine, but there wasn’t a water source nearby, and I’m all about having somewhere close to filter water so I don’t have to haul it all in. We were just passing through, so we snapped a few pics and Craig caught me saying something goofy on video.

“Say hello for the camera,” he said.

“’Sup, camera,” was about as witty as I could get.

A scenic overlook about three miles in.

I figured that our hike up the ridge was the start of ascending the mountain, but I was wrong. Every bit of elevation we gained there we quickly surrendered as the hike went on. As it turned out, this was just a stop along the way and we’d yet to reach the foot of the mountain. So while the maps showed the elevation gain from Cove Lake to the trail’s end at about 1,500 feet, you can easily tack on at least a couple hundred feet more, given this little feature and the constant up-and-down along the way.

Another thing we noticed: This was a very watery hike. For starters, route descriptions mention creek crossings, and there were several. You could cross some without getting your feet wet, but others, not so much. There was a lot of water coming down the mountain that day, a byproduct of frequent rains that had pounded this part of the state in the preceding week.

Some of the pines here were more than a hundred feet tall.

That also made the trail muddy in numerous spots. And in others, water flowed down the trail as if it were a creek itself. Any illusions of keeping our feet dry were quickly dispelled. Once you’re good with that, it’s not a problem. Otherwise, only high-top boots with waterproofing would have provided a chance at staying dry. And that would have been a big if.

The trail is well-marked. There were mile markers (though a few were missing), and white diamond-shaped blazes were nailed to trees frequently. The only tricky areas were, believe it or not, road crossings. The first one of those had the trail reappear in a grassy area across the road (they were all gravel access roads for National Forest Service work). The second one, however, gave us a little trouble.

About four miles in, we came to a road crossing that had one side of the road going uphill and the other splitting into a Y. One of those splits led to a gate, the other downhill. We looked up and down the road and saw no clear indication where the trail picked back up, and our map wasn’t altogether clear.

A fella in a truck pulled up, so we flagged him down. Looking at our map and compass, we took a guess, went up the hill and guessed wrong. We figured that out after Truck Guy drove back up the hill to tell us he saw where the trail left the road – down the hill, the opposite direction we were going. We were grateful for the assist. Who knows where we would have ended up had we kept trudging up the road. I made a mental note that I need to work on my orienteering skills.

With Truck Guy motoring down the road and us back on track, all signs of people vanished again. Every now and then, deadfall blocked our route. My guess is high winds from recent storms took down sick or dead trees along our path.

Somewhere past Mile 5, we hit another high point where two small clearings overlooked a steep, wooded slope. We could hear a creek rushing below us. The clearings also had a fire ring, and this seemed like a good place for someone to camp. The Magazine Mountain Trail is popular with backpackers, and some people turn the hike into a two-day, overnight excursion. We plopped down for some grub, did a tick check (we performed a few of those) and let the sounds of the rushing creek below wash over us.

We encountered a lot of creek crossings, including this one where our map indicated a bridge.

We were in for one more “major” creek crossing where the map indicated a bridge. I saw footings for a bridge on either bank, but something tells me that structure is long gone. It was just another soggy creek crossing, but we were used to that by then. No biggie, just squishy feet for a few minutes (and the promise of really rank socks back at camp).

Shortly after that, the trail started heading uphill in earnest. Nothing too steep, but we did hit two sections of switchbacks that were reminders of some of the more formidable trails we’d experienced in the Rockies. After the second set of switchbacks, the trail ascended the mountain in a steeper – and at times, soggier – straight line.

We knew we hit the state park boundary once the nature of the trail changed. Instead of the partially overgrown singletrack we’d been on all day, more stone stairs appeared.

The “up” gave way soon after, and before long camp had arrived, and with it, the promise of a good nap, fresh clothes, and the best camp food of all time, bratwursts with mac-and-cheese made by yours truly. Not like I’m biased or anything.

I could tell you that the scenery stole the show, and indeed, this is a great hike. It’s not often you can trek on a longer trail in the South and have nearly absolute solitude in a place that was so lush, so green, and so alive.

Craig takes a break near the end of the hike.

But as is the case with most hikes, it’s often the company you keep that makes the trip. All along the way, Craig and I compared stories from the mountains, our solo ascents, or the more memorable peaks. We talked about how we first got into hiking the Fourteeners, who we met, and what mountains we’d like to climb next. A lot of times, sharing these mountain tales leaves many of those we know a little glassy-eyed. I think they’d rather see a couple of pics and move on.

But within our little fellowship, these stories are the spice of life. They often intersect with big lessons learned, shared experiences with family and friends, and time to process big ideas. It’s made easier when there’s no cellphone service, so any urgent texts, emails or notifications are held at bay, leaving room for good conversation or quiet reflection. We don’t get enough of that, you know.

And all that would indeed come. We’d go back to families, back to jobs, back to the noise of daily life beyond these ancient woods. But for a time we let the forest take us in, block everything else out and send us back in time before people tried to tame these lands. Wild places can be savage, but they can also soothe.

ABOUT THE ROUTE

From Cove Lake, start the hike at a small parking pullout near the dam. The trail is well-marked and easy to follow, with very few side trails, most of which are partially overgrown.

About two miles in will be your first road crossing. Tall grasses obscure the trail on the other side of the road, but it will be slightly to your right.

Continue another mile to reach a rocky outcropping. This is a potential camping area, but also a good spot to rest, eat and evaluate the weather, as the bulk of the hike still lies ahead.

Another 1.5 miles up the trail is another road crossing. To your right, the road splits into a Y, with the right-hand fork leading immediately to a gate while the other fork goes downhill. Take the downhill fork. The route includes a small section of the road, but less than 200 yards downhill, the trail will appear to your left and leaves the road for good.

From here, a general uphill climb begins, with some elevation loss and gain. About 5 miles in, you’ll reach two clearings that have been used as campsites. This is just past the halfway point of the route, so it’s a logical place to stop and camp if you’re backpacking. It’s also a good point to evaluate the weather as well as your progress, as the hardest part of the hike still awaits.

The woods reflected on the still waters of a pond.

Past the campsites, the trail continues another two miles before going uphill in earnest. You’ll go uphill for a time and the route will flatten out and take you between two ponds.

Upon leaving the ponds behind, you’ll arrive at the first set of steeper switchbacks, of which there are four. The route eases for a bit, then hits another set of three switchbacks. Leaving those behind, the route eases momentarily, then steepens again. A series of rock steps will appear as you leave the Ozark National Forest and enter Mount Magazine State Park. Continue a steep hike for another mile before the terrain eases and leads you to the boundary of the Cameron Bluffs campsites.

Route length is 9.7 miles, all Class 1 hiking with minimal exposure.

EXTRA CREDIT

Hike south through the campsite, cross the main road and go a half mile up the Signal Hill Trail to the summit of Magazine Mountain and the state’s high point.

Or, if you’re up for it, make it a bigger day by hiking from Cove Lake to the summit, then back down to the lake. 19-21 miles, depending on if you tack on the Signal Hill Trail hike.

THINGS TO KNOW

There is no motorized travel or biking allowed on the Magazine Mountain Trail. Hiking only.

The mountains of Arkansas are bear country. Talk and make noise to alert bears of your presence, and do not attempt to feed them (or any wildlife, for that matter). Give any bear plenty of room, especially if it is a mother with her cubs. If you’re camping, be sure to hang any food or fragrant possessions (toothpaste, deordorant, soap, etc) in a bear bag away from your campsite. Never store these items in your tent.

Bob Doucette

Coming soon: Getting on the trail in Arkansas

Just one of the views from Magazine Mountain, Arkansas.

Like a lot of you, I have a need to find wild trails for awhile, be it on a multi-day excursion or a simple trail run. I can find these in other states, or down the road minutes from my home.

One thing that I’ve considered a personal failure was having never done much exploring in Arkansas. The state line is only a couple of hours from where I live, and everything I’ve heard about it seems to indicate that it’s a worthy haven for the outdoorsy set.

I finally remedied this error, spending three days in northwest Arkansas with a hiking buddy of mine, Craig, who agreed to drive down from Kansas City to meet me there.

It was time well spent. It was great catching up with Craig, one of my partners on an attempt to climb Longs Peak two years ago, and see how he’s been doing. We both had one thing in common: A need to take a break from everyday life and to unwind on the trail.

In the coming days, I’m going to publish some posts about what we discovered at Mount Magazine State Park – loads of hiking, great camping, and opportunities for a whole lot more. And I think you’ll be blown away by how beautiful this place is. I certainly was.

So stay tuned. In the next few posts,  I’ll be going over a classic Arkansas mountain hike, examining the features of the state park, and add a little more about some of the great things you can do in Arkansas.

Bob Doucette

It’s National Parks Week: Here are some photos from two of my favorites

Time in our national parks can be some of the most rewarding you’ll spend. Sunrise at Rocky Mountain National Park.

The last couple of weeks have been heavy on the fitness side, so what better way to break back into the outdoors by paying homage to National Parks Week?

If you’ve been a reader of this site for any length of time, you know where I stand on our public lands. They are definitely a treasure, and they’re most beautifully preserved in our national parks.

I’ve been to a few, and two of my favorites are tucked inside some of America’s great mountain ranges: Rocky Mountain National Park and Great Smoky Mountains National Park. So in this post, East meets West with photos from these great American landscapes.

THE SMOKIES

The Appalachians have had a long time to perfect their allure, and the monarchs of this range are in its southern reaches. Great Smoky Mountains National Park packs a wallop when it comes to scenery.

For instance, take a look at this scene from halfway up Mount LeConte…

Alum Cave Bluff.

As you hike these mountains, you’re going to pass through ecosystems that range from low-lying broadleaf forests to spruce-filled woodlands more than a mile high.

Looking out from Tennessee’s high point, Clingman’s Dome.

And just about every overlook has a surprise waiting to be discovered.

This how the range and the park get their name.

ROCKY MOUNTAIN HIGH

In the lower 48 states, no mountain range is as mighty as the Rockies. And I think that’s what people were trying to encapsulate when they designated a specific slice of Colorado to become Rocky Mountain National Park. Big, burly mountains and alpine landscapes dominate the land.

The Keyhole on Longs Peak.

The park’s centerpiece is one of the state’s iconic mountains, Longs Peak.

Longs Peak, the sentinel of Rocky Mountain National Park.

If you want to feel small, hike here. These mountains will do the trick.

Rugged, forbidding, haunting, and beautiful.

 

So there you have it. The weekend is coming up. If you’re in range of one of our national parks, do yourself a favor and go. Breathe some clean air, see some cool places, unplug and take advantage of a wonderful piece of our national heritage.

Bob Doucette