Granite Mountain Basin (04-13-15)

Paul and I don’t have to be back in Havasu for a while so we were on the look out for some hiking to do- preferably at a higher elevation, where it’s cooler.  We’ve decided to head towards Sedona where we will kill two birds with one stone.  We’ll have some great hiking, and also get to hang out with our friends Mike and Julie. 

Our first stop along the way was Prescott, where I had found a trail we were interested in hiking- and where our friends Dave and Nancy happen to be staying.



Granite Mountain Basin is part of the Prescott National Forest.  The trail we hiked was Granite Mountain Trail #261.  It was an ambitious undertaking at 9 miles round trip, and 1600 feet of elevation gain.  We were in the mood to push ourselves, and boy did we.  We were pretty darn tired when we were done.

We knew from the reviews of the trail that there had been a fire here about 2 years ago, but it wasn’t until we met another couple along the trail that we learned how devastating that fire was.

In June of 2013 a fire, known now as the Yarnell Hill Fire, broke out in the small, nearby town of Yarnell.  In the midst of a severe drought, and with winds whipping, the fire grew out of control.










For weeks the fire raged, and more and more firefighters were brought in to try and contain it.  Eventually the services of more than 600 firefighters were utilized, including the 20 men who comprised the elite team known as the Granite Mountain Hotshots. 

On June 30th, the fire suddenly changed direction, and 19 of the Granite Mountain Hotshots were overcome by flames, and died in the fire, resulting in the highest firefighter death toll in a fire since 1933.

Hearing about that while on the trail changed our mood a little bit, making it more somber and reflective.

Eventually we made it to the top of the hill, where we found a nice flat boulder where we could sit and enjoy lunch.  We didn’t get to relax for long though.

 

As I took a bite from my sandwich, I heard them.  Before I saw them, I actually heard them.  Swarming towards us.  Bees.  Thousands of them.

I now know what the term “scared spitless” means, as tried to swallow, and with my sandwich lodged in my throat, I scrambled down below the boulders to try and get out of their way.

Paul, of course, was calm and unconcerned, trying unsuccessfully to keep me from freaking out.  As soon as they moved away, I declared that lunch was over and we were moving.  Now.  A few minutes later we came upon another hiker who had had to walk through the swarm on his way to the peak.




Apparently bees swarm at this time of year while looking for a new location for a hive. When not swarming, they rest in clusters in tree branches.  We passed 3 clusters on the way back down the hill.


On the news that night we heard that several people had been attacked by swarming bees, and one woman is in the hospital with over 50 bee stings.









Once we were back down the hill I started to relax again, and started looking forward to our dinner with Dave and Nancy.  It’s been a while since we’ve seen them so we had a great dinner, and hope to see them again next week before we head off in different directions for the summer.  Of course, I never got my camera out, so I have no pictures of our reunion.