Over the years as I have driven the lonely road between Flagstaff and the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, one feature has always piqued my curiosity. A seemingly out of place lonely red mountain rising up from the high desert sagebrush and tumbleweeds that dot the plateau.
The Red Mountain Volcano.
It always seems to be empty, desolate of life. The small dirt road leads one off the highway for about 1/2 a mile before you come to a parking lot trailhead. Patches of snow are found here and there, pretty typical for February.
The hike itself is fairly short and straightforward, only another 1/2 mile or so. As I get closer to the Volcano with each step, I can feel the abundant energy emanating from ground. Powerful and electric. No one else seems to be here. I climb a small ladder and enter the hoodoo’s of this ancient volcano.
Within the bowels of volcano I find others are here, quietly taking in the raw energy. I climb a large stone and meditate as clouds move quickly across the skyline. Tiny slot canyons filled with snow call to be explored, yet I soon find myself waist deep in snow.
Who knows how long I was here, maybe an hour, perhaps several. Time seems to have a different schedule in this volcanic vortex that I have found.
Eventually though I head back out onto the trail, glad that I stopped to explore the mighty lone Red Mountain Volcano and her wonders that lie within.