June in the White Mountains

June 15-26,2026

June is the cruelest month in southern New Mexico. High temperatures set new records each year while we wait anxiously for the life-giving monsoon to put an end to the constant threat of wildfires. Adding to our malaise is new data from the New Mexico Forestry Division showing that tree deaths in New Mexico more than tripled in 2025 due to intensifying drought, abnormally warm temperatures and bark beetle predation. Even though we live in Paradise, this is the time of year when we are most inclined to flee to higher elevations for relief from the heat and the drought. But with diesel at nearly $5/gallon, a long drive was not in the cards.

We had scouted a new location in the northern Gila National Forest, but this area was affected by the Bear Fire in early June. But we had booked a sitter for our house and our fleet of felines, so we had to leave. At the 11th hour, we decided to return to our usual haunt in the White Mountains of northern Arizona.

On a whim, we dug out our two 20-year-old Sevylors, and were astonished that with careful folding, we could stash both of them under the bed in the RV. Instead of aiming for Big Lake, with its Coney Island vibe, we decided to try out one of the less lakes in the area. But first, coffee at Cowboy Coffee in Glenwood.

A Lesser Lake

Access to the lake requires careful planning, a long drive on a bumpy road and permits that are only available at the store near the Sunrise Ski Area. It's been several years since we ventured this far west, and we were shocked by the extreme low lake levels. I remember Sunrise Reservoir as an enormous shimmering mirror. Today it's just a puddle. And White Mountain Reservoir? Completely dried up! So it was a nice surprise that our choice of lake still held a reasonable amount of water. There is a "campground" of sorts, but there are no facilities — no water, no pit toilets, no designated campsites, and the store has been closed for decades. But after a determined search, we nabbed a reasonably level spot between the trees that was close enough to the lake that we could carry our kayaks to the water's edge.

It was a leap of faith to inflate the Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Sevylor Tahiti, and its compansion, a gifty from our friend Haley. But that was by far the least of our problems. After helping Dennis shove off, I quickly sank up to my knees in "quickmud". I pitched forward onto my hands and knees to take the pressure off my legs, but by then I was covered in greasy black mud. But once launched, we had a fine morning on the lake, paddling all the way around the left arm.

We saw so many water birds! Osprey, killdeer, coots, cormorants, ducks and more great blue herons than I could count.

We improved our launch/landing techniques by discovering that we could lie down on a makeshift dock someone had fashioned from an old outhouse door and roll into the boats without touching the water.

That afternoon we hiked all around the right arm of the lake, which was rich in summer wildflowers, especially near the inlet at the far end of the lake.

Greer

We had planned on spending another day at the lake, but high winds and rain in the forecast sent us searching for a campsite. We lucked out and found a spot near Greer with two bars of internet. Better yet, there was a trail that made Greer an easy 2½-mile hike from camp!

The trail passes by a spring, which we assumed would be dry. But it was actually a vivid green wetland with a clear pond about 40 feet across.

There we treated ourselves to ice cream sundaes and iced coffee ‐ while we admired the elk grazing across the creek and waited for the afternoon heat to dissipate.

We succeeded almost too well, as dark clouds rolled in and turned the sky an ominous inky blue. But the combination of caffeine and sugar was just enough to race a storm up an 800-foot cliff. Wwe arrived back in camp just before the storm broke.

We'd be buffeted by high winds and a steady drizzle for the next 24 hours. But this was the perfect opportunity to realize another goal of this trip, which was to get cozy with my new laptop. The workhorse that Dennis built for me 12 years ago is on its last legs. Since it couldn't be upgraded to Windows 11, a new unit was required. And the more we read about Windows 11, with its mandatory Microsoft account integration, buggy updates, intrusive ads, and excessive pre-installed promotional software, the more we were inclined to finally cut the cord and switch to Linux. There's a limit to the amount of en$hitification we are willing to tolerate.

West Baldy