Page 23 - Volume 3 - Walks In The Black Range

canyon a year and a half earlier. I am a total sucker for the magic of maple trees in October, so off I went hoping to find them at peak color.
I finally arrived at the mouth of the canyon with the bigtooth maples. To my disappointment the leaves on the first tree I encountered were entirely green. Color was found as I continued up the canyon, which for at least some of the way was a lovely open channel with a smooth bedrock bottom that would have contained many small falls cascading toward the confluence with South Palomas had water been flowing. As it was, water lingered in the discreet pools surrounded by spongy green moss and sprinkled with pale, fallen maple leaves. If you go in early spring, say March or April, there may be waterfalls to see at the head of this canyon, if you are a dedicated bushwhacker and scrambler. Upstream from this tributary there are some falls in South Palomas as well, but don’t count on seeing them in dry years.
The many theories I have on the fickle nature of fall colors, and perhaps a few new ones began to dance in my brain, as I made my way clumsily upstream, still hoping there would be a more spectacular display onward. There never was. A few pretty patches and a couple nice little trees would have to do for today.
As I finally stopped to rest, I realized it was the only place for me to be in the world at that time, on that day. I drank another bottle of water. Took a photo of myself nestled in the glen, and then headed upstream just a bit farther to where the canyon got extremely narrow, very thick with willows and a few walnut trees, and the maples ended.
I turned around and for the first time, really took it all in as I gazed down Maple Canyon to the nearly 1000 foot cliffs on South Palomas crowned with towers and spires.
I slowed down as I made my legs and feet carry me back to South Palomas, heading a little bit farther west before turning back. I glimpsed a second deer. Disturbed the same owl. Saw the turkeys again too. Touched the biggest ponderosa pine I have ever touched, and contemplated the upright cones of a true fir for the first time it seemed.

I did my best to follow the bits and pieces of trail, but didn't really to do any better than on