Topo Home Parsons Spring Album Guide
Well I had a busy weekend this Sunday. I went to take an "easy" hike up to Parsons Spring in the Sycamore Canyon, which is west of Sedona (near Cottonwood). At the same time, I have always wanted to stop at the Tuzigoot National Monument, so I had included that on my agenda. Tuzigoot (Too-ZEE-goot) is an ancient native American ruin sitting on a hill in the Verde river flood plain - interesting but not exciting. Then when I got to Cottonwood I discovered that the old mining town of Jerome was only six miles away - a must detour! Jerome is one of Arizona's historic mining towns - now a haven for ex-hippies and self-proclaimed artists.
Usually, trails through riparian environments do not follow closely beside the stream. For some reason, I had decided to leave the trail and go down to the edge of the creek just in time to see this monster of a bird land in the middle of a small pool. He was a long way away from me and the banks of the pool and stream were extremely over grown; I had no way to get a clear shot for photos from the bank. Then I noticed the tree; a cottonwood which had grown out at a slight angle over the water with it's 1st branches about 15 feet above the ground. At my age, I probably have no business climbing trees; now that I think about it, my mother (and probably my other mother - a certain sister-in-law) did/do not believe there is such a thing as "a good age for climbing trees", but then that is another story.
First I tried to climb the trunk of the tree in the fashion we have seen demonstrated by the Hawaiians climbing coconut palms - slid back down well short of the branches. Next I looked for something to use to fashion a ladder with - no luck. Finally it occurred to me that I might take a running leap at the trunk and run up the side of the tree - no luck, hard landing - but the camera didn't break! I peered over the rushes to make sure my prey was still on his pond - he was acting very impatient, I have to get into that tree - NOW. So with a longer run, a bigger leap, two strides up the trunk, a big stretch and with the camera clanging against the branch, my tenuous grasp on the lowest branch held. From there, I shinnied up to a crotch in the tree and snapped off three long range pictures. Sadly, the bird was wandering away to the outer limits of my telephoto - I had all the pictures that I would be able to take and now, I had a more immediate problem - how in the world was I going to get out of that tree?
Surveying my impending demise as I sat there nearly 20 feet above the ground, I noticed a branch from the tree which arched up, over and then down, ending at about the level of my feet. At my level, it's circumference was about half of the thickness of my wrist. I calculated that the branch could be used as a bungee cord to arrest my rocketing acceleration towards the ground if I fell and it probably would not break until I was just a few feet above the surface.
Finally there was nothing left to do but to grab the branch and step into the void. I did. An elevator has never been smoother - a perfect, soft, two-point landing! The camera was safe.
An inquisitive, well intentioned, co-working friend suggested that if I am going to be climbing around in trees, I probably should carry a rope. Now there are a couple of things in life that you simply ought not do - do not give children matches to play with;
and do not give old folks ropes for any purpose. I wanted to climb the tree, not hang myself.
Another jackal opined that she wished she had been there with her video-cam. I reminded her that my treks are like bedrooms -
the events are greatly over-rated and no video equipment is allowed! (Exceptions apparently made for
the same certain sister-in-law.)
Trekker