The Call of the White Mountains: Flume Connector #636B

Flume Connector #636B – an easy quick hike!

When my wife and I first visited the White Mountains in 2020, we were searching for a peace you can’t find in the sprawling chaos of the Phoenix Valley. She, a city girl through and through, was in for quite a surprise. One crisp morning, we sat on the porch of our rented cabin, coffee in hand. She paused, listening intently, then said, “I can’t believe we can hear traffic this far in the woods.”

I chuckled. “That’s not cars, it’s the wind through the pines.”

Disbelief eventually turned into a smile. She took another sip of her coffee, and in that quiet moment, the tranquility of the mountains captured her heart. By the time our vacation ended, we put an offer in on a home, and a month later, we moved in. A decision that would change our lives forever.

But enough about us—let’s move on to the real adventure.

I pulled up to the Panorama trailhead on Porter Mountain Road, just a few miles past the Timber Mesa Trail #636. I chose the Flume Connector, a less-traveled path, mostly because I’m building up my stamina for the bigger hikes still to come. And as a side note: the name of the trail harks back to an old flume system once used for irrigation, adding a touch of history to the hike.

I began in the very early hours of the morning. The sun was at my back, casting long shadows ahead, and a strong wind greeted me head-on. At the start, it was a gentle ascent, and the wind made it feel like a battle. But as I reached the peak of the hike, the trail leveled off, and the forest fell into an eerie silence, a stark contrast to the city’s constant din. No birds sang, no leaves rustled, not even that whisper of wind in the trees I mentioned earlier.

It reminded me of standing in the “Center of the Universe” in Tulsa, OK, where an acoustic anomaly amplifies sounds within a small circle while rendering them nearly inaudible outside it.

Now, if you’ve read my previous adventures, you know I have an active imagination. So, it shouldn’t surprise you when I say I couldn’t help but think, “Is something wicked this way coming?”

Thankfully, nothing wicked came. So, I pressed on. For you, the reader, of course. But I kept my head on a swivel. Just in case.

Gradually, the forest came alive. Birds began their morning chorus, breaking the silence. I even passed a couple camping out of the back of their car, busy making breakfast. I waved and kept going, not wanting to intrude on their peaceful connection with nature. My wife and I had tried car camping once. Just once.

Alone the trail I noticed numerous hiking shoe tracks and wondered about the people who had walked this path recently. What thoughts filled their minds as they trekked through this quiet landscape? Did their imaginations run as wild as mine? I even placed my foot in theirs, trying to guess how tall they were. I chuckled at the thought, then let it drift away like a leaf on the wind. I felt a connection to these unseen travelers, each of us seeking our own peace and adventure in the heart of the Sitgreaves National Forest.

The White Mountains Trail System is marked meticulously with white reflective tags. On this trail, the markers bore the letters “FL” for Flume, followed by a number, ensuring hikers could relay their exact location if help was needed. At one point, I strayed off the trail, the curious photographer in me had pulled me away, but the reflective tags guided me back, a reassuring presence in the dense forest.

The White Mountains Trail System spans over 200 miles. The 2.5-mile Flume Connector trail seems infinitesimally small compared to the vast network. Yet, as I walked through it, it felt both tiny and immense. Despite its modest length, it offered a profound sense of connection to the larger wilderness.

The Flume Connector often splits into paths for motorized vehicles and pedestrians. At first, I chose the wider motorized path as I made my way toward the Timber Mesa Trail. However, I later opted for the pedestrian route, experiencing the trail anew. It felt like I was discovering it for the first time, each step revealing a different side of the forest’s quiet charm.

 As I made my way back, I began to regret bringing my second camera with its hefty 600mm lens. Sadly, there was no wildlife to capture this time, other than the usual bird, squirrel, or rabbit. The weight of it pulled on my shoulder, adding to my already exhausted, out-of-shape body. It reminded me of those moments when you overpack for a trip, thinking you’ll need everything, only to realize half of it stays untouched. But hey, at least I got a good workout.

With my legs dragging and my energy waning as I took that final descent, I felt immense relief when I spotted my truck at the trailhead. The sight was a welcome end to a long, for me, tiring hike. As I unloaded my gear into the back of the truck, I thought about how the solitude of the White Mountains starkly contrasts with life in Phoenix. Here, the air is fresh, nature’s sounds dominate, and life’s pace slows to a soothing rhythm. Each step on the Flume Connector #636B had been a step away from urban stress, a step towards inner peace and a deeper connection with nature.

The White Mountains call to those seeking adventure and tranquility alike. The Flume Connector #636B, with its serene paths, offers a perfect escape into nature’s heart. Whether you’re a seasoned hiker or a city dweller craving a break, this trail offers a unique blend of challenge and serenity.

So, lace up your hiking boots, leave the city noise behind, and answer the call of the White Mountains. You might find, as my wife and I did, that this enchanting place becomes a new home for your heart.