Hikin' the Crack Again

The weather in Lake Havasu City wasn't quite as benign this year as it was in 2017 when we last visited the SARA Park Rodeo Grounds for Winter Blast.  Consequently, we had to struggle to find non-socializing time with decent weather for hiking.  We found one afternoon on Sunday, February 17, 2019, and decided to revisit our hike of the Crack in the Mountain Trail (questionably named, "Sara's Crack" on the trailhead sign):

It had rained a couple days before, so we anticipated that the slot canyon known as "Crack in the Mountain" would have water in it.  Other hikers told us that we would not be able to reach the shore of Lake Havasu unless we took the higher trail to bypass the slot canyon.  Considering that the slot canyon was the main reason we wanted to reprise the hike, we decided to see how far we could progress and whether -- possibly -- we might be able to cross any pools of standing water.

Take a look at our blog entry from our first hike of the Crack in February 2017 to compare how the slot canyon looked then to what it was this trip.  You'll also get to see what lay beyond this year's turnaround point.

The trail gives pleasing vistas of the hills and washes leading down to Lake Havasu from the Rodeo Grounds:

Once we descended into the wash, we got beautiful canyon walls overlooked by Arizona-style peaks:

A number of hikers have piled rocks into whimsical cairns and inuksuks:

The day was clear and the blue sky graced the entire walk.  Furthermore, because of this winter's heavier rains in Arizona, the hillsides are much greener than they have been in prior years, and wildflowers are sprouting everywhere.

After a mile or a little more, we started descending into the slot canyon:

Unfortunately, the photo above is all you're going to see of the slot canyon this year, because, soon after we took that photo, we needed to used all our arms and legs and attention clambering down slippery-smooth sandstone rocks, deeper into the slot.

After succeeding in leaping across one pool of water (getting our boots wet anyway), we reached a pool that was perhaps 25 feet long and of indeterminate depth.  We decided it wasn't worth potentially getting wet up to our hips (or worse), and we had to turn back.  Our route down and back included a descent and then a climb on a long, knotted rope, feet pressed onto a vertical slope of slippery sandstone.  We succeeded in navigating that and other dry waterfalls without incident.

Just as we came out of the slot, a bloodhound that was accompanied by two humans from the Seattle area who were training the puppy for search-and-rescue work, alerted to movement on the top of the cliffs to our south.  Kathy looked up and spotted two mountain goats!

After spending 5 or 10 minutes admiring the mountain goats (and hoping futilely that they might approach us closer) we turned and extended our warm thanks to our new friend the bloodhound:

While we were trying to navigate the slick rocks and pools of the slots, we made casual friends with a number of groups of younger hiker/climbers -- friends due to the necessity of sharing tactics and strategies for climbing and descending the tricky spots.  We knew of the higher route that detours above the slot canyon, and we told two of them about it.  That was all they needed to clamber up the rocky, steep hillside to reach the trail above, so that they could move on to the lakeshore.  As they climbed, they reminded us of the mountain goats we had just been observing:

We had more time for the return trip than we had expected, so we ambled rather than marched.  This gave us time to look around a little more carefully.  Kathy spotted this arch above the trail which, due to its angle, hadn't been visible to us as we hiked in:

David thought the arch might be a nice place to meditate, Buddha-like, on the beauties of the desert southwest, so he clambered up and assumed his position for Kathy's camera:

The rest of our return was uneventful, other than encountering dozens of hikers who also were enjoying this beautiful afternoon.  Nearing the trailhead, we caught sight of our RV campsites in the Rodeo Grounds:

We were disappointed the hike was its full length and that we couldn't get down to Balanced Rock, the cove, the campsite overlooking the lake, or Lake Havasu itself.  On the other hand, we returned in time for Happy Hour and extended conversation with our friends before dinner and the last night of fireworks.

Oh, yes, and despite the short hike, we learned that it had been a full-body workout.  The next morning, we found lots of stiff little muscles, tendons and ligaments that we had forgotten we have.  Maybe the sore arms were from pulling ourselves up the rockface on the knotted rope.