Email this article

In The Wake of An Avalance

Hike the Abineau-Bear Jaw loop to a heap of Wow!

By Michael Wolcott

Getting Started

GETTING THERE To reach the Abineau and Bear Jaw Trails, drive north of Flagstaff on U.S. HWy. 180 for about 20 miles, then turn right onto the second turnoff for Forest Service Road 151 (Hart Prairie Road). Drive 1.5 miles and turn left on Forest Service Road 418. Follow just over three miles to FR9123J. Turn right onto FR 9123J and follow just over a half mile to the trailhead parking area.

Sometime in February 2005 on the steep north slope of Arizona's highest summit - Humphrey's Peak - a vast, delicate lattice of ice crystals collapsed. The white skin of the mountain rippled and heaved. What followed was a cataclysm.
A massive avalanche roared down the mountain at perhaps 60 mph, tearing a half-mile long avenue of chaos through the wooded canyon below. You can explore the extraordinary results of this violence by walking the six-mile Abineau/Bear Jaw loop.
The hike begins 10 miles north of Flagstaff on the Coconino National Forest. It offers an intimate look at cool north face of the San Francisco Peaks, and a far-distant gaze at Grand Canyon. You might even spot a black bear: nowhere else on the Peaks are you more likely to see one.
But this hike's biggest draw - without doubt - is the impact of the avalanche.
What happened on the mountain that winter day was analogous to the failure of a parking brake. Countless millions of ice crystals were the brake. Hundreds of acres of loose snow instantly became the runaway vehicle. Layers of differing density and viscosity detached, releasing millions of pounds of snow. In seconds, the avalanche was hurtling downhill with the force of a thousand runaway 18-wheelers.
This accelerating load gathered into one monstrous white wave, deepening as its drainage narrowed, picking up additional tons of rock, ice and trees before slamming into the funnel of Abineau Canyon.
All that energy had to go somewhere. It spent itself by uprooting thousands of trees (many full-grown) or severing them at the bases. When the snow slide stopped, the canyon had been ravaged. And the Abineau Trail had become even more alluring.
The Abineau/Bear Jaw loop was a fine hike even before the avalanche rearranged its most scenic section. The route winds past aspen groves and through mixed conifer forest (with some big grandfather ponderosas). Common wildflowers here, in season, include paintbrushes, lupines, penstemons, irises, and sunflowers. There are birds of course, too: Steller's jays, juncos, and Clark's nutcrackers among them. And when I walked the trails in early August during the Arizona monsoon season, the woods rang with the liquid flute-song of the hermit thrush.
During the warm months it is best to start early in the day to avoid a possible afternoon thunderstorm. On my hike, I chose to travel clockwise from the Abineau/Bear Jaw junction. That way, the climbing is over before you reach the avalanche chute. Most people seem to hike it this way, rather than skittering directly up Abineau Canyon, snapping pictures, and descending. The loop has plenty of attractions before the payoff trip down the avalanche route.
Left at the junction puts you on the Bear Jaw trail, which contours around a couple of low ridges, early on, and affords a few broken views of the Coconino Plateau to the north.
The trail begins to climb steadily, passing a stock tank and aspen grove on the right. Most of the 1,900-foot elevation gain takes place in the next two miles.
As you approach the Kachina Peaks Wilderness boundary (signed), the serrated ridge that gives the Bear Jaw trail its name comes into view. Just past the wilderness line, the trail crosses a large drainage west of Bear Jaw.
The path narrows and gets rockier at the start of a long, very steep pitch through thick timber. Good-sized southwestern white pines and aspens predominate.
The long steep trudge (a good workout) continues all the way to a signed junction with the Pipeline Road. Turning right (west) takes you to the Abineau Trail. (The left turn goes toward Lockett Meadow, a fine aspen-decked destination.)
Heading west, Pipeline Road immediately recrosses the large drainage. The hiking is mellow through here - nearly flat at first, becoming an easy, steady climb. You're strolling for the next mile-and-a-half, first through bug- and drought-killed conifers, then through a healthy mixed stand of Douglas fir, spruce and quaking aspen.
The road crosses a second, smaller drainage, then passes an opening with a good peek north toward the Grand Canyon.
A quarter-mile before you reach the Abineau Trail junction, the summit ridge of Humphrey's leaps into view. It's a striking sight after the long haul through thick forest: a huge, silver-grey Buddha of a mountain, mottled with snow.
Below this junction is an obvious lunch/rest spot: grassy and sun-flooded (if you're lucky), with great views up the mountain's talus slopes and down the wooded canyon. It's here that you'll first see the avalanche chute.
You can eat oranges and savor the end of your climb. You can look forward to a descent through the maelstrom. But don't forget to look all around. From your lunch spot there are clear lines of sight north and west, across the San Francisco volcanic field. Twenty cinder cones dot the flatland beneath you like green islands in the ocean of pale brown grass. If the air is very clear, you will plainly see a dark gash in the Plateau, 3,000 vertical feet below and 60 miles off - Grand Canyon.
Turning your gaze left to admire the mountain again, you will notice an hourglass-shaped clearing, midway down the north face of Humphrey's Peak. Follow it all the way down into Abineau Canyon and the wake of the avalanche. And be amazed.

Find more writing by MICHAEL WOLCOTT online at InsideOutsideMag.com.