A Wild Way Forward: Exploring Arizona and New Mexico’s Mogollon Plateau

John Davis is the Executive Director of the Rewilding Institute. He lives in Adirondack Park in Northern New York and has spent many years exploring, and advocating for, wildlands in the United States and beyond.

On June 3, 2024, the Gila Wilderness marked its 100th anniversary as a protected area. At over 550,000 acres, the conservation of this ecologically important region in the southwestern United States is a cause for celebration. But like many such protected areas, we at the Rewilding Institute see it not as a finished product, but as ground upon which to expand conservation efforts.

To be ecologically viable over the long term, this wilderness must be extended and reconnected to neighboring wildlands as part of a larger, continuous continental tract of unimpeded wilderness. What we like to call a “wildway.”

Earlier this year, as conservationists far and wide celebrated the Gila’s centennial, a group of us came together to hike across it, from west to east, to promote expanding its protection. Specifically, we set out to scout a conservation track (think trail) through a sensitive and important area adjacent to the Gila wilderness known as the Mogollon Plateau.

Kahtoola generously supported our adventure, which included Danny Giovale, Kahtoola Owner and Founder; Joelle Marier, Executive Director of the National Wilderness Stewardship Alliance (NWSA); Jason Kahn, President of the Rewilding Institute; and me.

What Is a Wildway?

At the Rewilding Institute, we have been advocating for, and exploring, a north-south Western Wildway (or Spine of the Continent Wildway) for many years. We envision a wild tract of land—like a corridor—where vegetation can flourish and animals can move along established migration routes with minimal human or industrial interaction.

The Mogollon Plateau would be an integral part of any fully realized Western Wildway. It is essentially a vast island of forested highlands in a sea of desert (see map below), making it an ecologically important gathering place for fauna. It provides some of the best habitat in the southwestern United States for Mexican wolves and pumas, and was once home to grizzly bears and jaguars, which have since been eliminated (it’s possible these animals could one day be reintroduced).

In the broader context, a Mogollon wildway would link two already wild areas: the Grand Canyon wildlands complex to the northwest and the Gila wildlands complex to the southeast. A trail crossing the plateau could also link the well-established trail systems in these neighboring wildlands for thru-hikers and other recreationists.

Why a Trail?

Some would say people have no place in protected areas, and while they do have some valid points, I’ve always believed that access to responsible recreation is a net positive. When people are allowed to experience wild places, they’re more likely to advocate on their behalf.

Within the Mogollon, the Rewilding Institute and our partners propose a trail we’re tentatively calling the Lobo National Scenic Trail. It would start at a connection to the Continental Divide Trail in the Gila National Forest and run northwest across the plateau to a connection with the Arizona Trail, and on to the Grand Canyon.

Today, the Mogollon is crisscrossed with myriad trails, and while using existing trails is ideal, these routes are, unfortunately, in varying states of disrepair and large wildfires have led to uncertainty around their safety and viability. With this in mind, our team ventured onto the plateau to learn how these trails might be used, rerouted, or avoided, to make travel safer, while considering environmentally sensitive areas.

An Adventurous Education

In April 2024, Danny, Joelle, Jason, and I came together to start planning our Mogollon adventure. As the trip’s instigator—and because I had explored parts of the Mogollon before—it fell to me to choose a route. Those who know me know I’m notorious for simply choosing start and end points and planning as I go. So, true to form, my only plan was to cross the northern portion of the wilderness, from west to east, using existing trails.

Fortunately, Joelle is an experienced wilderness trip planner and, late in the day before our hike began, she reminded us that fires had consumed tens of thousands of acres of forest in the area, including many that were home to existing trails. With time ticking down, we decided we might have some last-minute research to do.

Later that day—and just before closing (on the Friday before Memorial Day Weekend)—the four of us squealed my Ford Ranger into the parking lot of the US Forest Service headquarters in Silver City, New Mexico. The kindly ranger inside delayed closing to give us the rundown on where high-severity wildfires had burned over the last 15 years. Unfortunately, this included much of the western half of the Gila Wilderness, where our journey was proposed to start. He also cautioned that the trails would likely be covered in debris where fires had burned, as trail crews couldn’t keep up with the clearing. In short, we could be bushwhacking. We agreed to press on.

A PROMISING START

Our first day of hiking was glorious. We made our way over small pine-studded ridges and in and out of Rain and West Fork Mogollon Creeks. We were also greeted with occasional views of the distant Mogollon Baldy, which would be the highest point in our journey. Along the way, migratory birds, particularly Black-Headed Grosbeaks and Western Tanagers, entertained us with their songs.

Like day one, our second day began optimistically when early on, we crested a large ridge and were greeted by an elusive Desert Horned Lizard. But as we descended to Mogollon Creek and then turned to follow it upstream, we were forced to weave back and forth across the water on a trail sometimes visible but often overgrown or covered in wildfire debris.

BUSHWHACKING THROUGH BURNS

Soon it was time to leave Mogollon Creek behind, and we quickly found ourselves high and dry, longing to be back near the cool water. We thrashed our way through Judy Canyon, through scrub oak, rose bushes, and other shrubs that often grow in the wake of wildfires. By late afternoon, we were either sweltering in long clothes or bleeding from countless cuts.

I briefly redeemed my flagging reputation as a wilderness explorer later that day by finding the existing trail down into Gobbler Canyon. To our delight, Gobbler Creek was running, and we made our camp next to it amid bear signs and Lobo (Mexican Wolf) scat.

That evening, Danny, ever energetic, went ahead alone to clear the first mile of the trail that would take us along Gobbler Canyon. This got the next morning off to a cheerful start, but by the time the heat of the day had settled upon us, the trail was disappearing into the now familiar charred, downed logs and regenerative growth.

We stopped periodically to soak our shirts and filter water in the creek, but when the canyon divided, roughly 1,000 feet above Mogollon Creek, the water dried up. We filled our bottles in the last pools, then continued upward, zig-zagging on the steep grade, seeking shade under what remained of the Doug-fir and Ponderosa pine.

After gaining the ridge, we rested in the thin shade of a tall snag. Once re-energized, we dropped our heavy packs and hastened up Mogollon Baldy. At over 10,700 feet, it’s the third-highest peak in the Gila Wilderness. It’s also number one for views, which is likely why we happened upon a Forest Service fire lookout at the top.

The lookout’s Fire Watcher, Sarah, had recently arrived for the season—her 43rd straight year—and she kindly pointed out features across the big, wild, and connected landscape, including where we could find water.

That evening we set up camp in a Ponderosa Pine stand on a ridge near Cub Mesa—our only dry camp of the trip. I sought to regain my friends’ trust by descending to a dark ravine, where I found a trickle of water to augment our half-full water bottles.

HEARTENED & HUMBLED

Our traverse of Cub Mesa the following day (4) was wonderful. As we moved east, the fire damage lessened, and nearly half of our hike was shaded by a park-like pine cover. We enjoyed listening to songbirds and spotting wildflowers.

On day 5, we crossed the small but vital West Fork Gila River scores of times, often surrounded by towering pines, cottonwoods, and Doug-firs: an unexpected juxtaposition of arboreal giants!

We also explored the side canyons of the West Fork, and whenever the going got vertical, Danny led, gracefully free-soloing a pitch and then setting up belays for the rest of us. Despite its name, Hells Hole Canyon and its endlessly fascinating geology was perhaps the most spectacular of the tributary canyons. Grave Canyon was another highlight. There we found wondrous pools and alcoves, water-polished rock, and lush understory beneath old conifers, where Pumas often lurk.

On day 6, we reluctantly walked out, leaving the Wilderness for the popular recreation lands around Gila Cliff Dwellings National Monument which, despite their popularity, are surely still sacred, even in this fallen time. We were duly humbled as we looked at the centuries-old homes and contemplated making a living in this arid environment, as Mogollon peoples had, and in some places still do.

The Future Is Wild

In sheer numerical terms, the Gila Wilderness may be modest, but its overall diversity and wildness are exemplary. Experiencing this firsthand showed us that any future conservation track should consider this unique landscape, its history of wildfires, vital waterways and non-human inhabitants.

Even after a fire has passed, burned snags of trees continue to fall across Mogollon’s many existing trails, increasing the likelihood of erosion and landslides, hazards, and making maintaining them all an impossible task (at least with current funding levels). With that in mind, our group agreed that a future Lobo Scenic Trail should be carefully planned and use existing trails that have not been burned, as well as those where the First Service has concentrated its maintenance resources.

We also concluded that a future trail should avoid waterways wherever possible, save for occasional access points where hikers can access water for drinking and cooking. Because this area is so dry, creeks like Rain, Mogollon, West Fork Mogollon, and others have an outsized impact on the plants and wildlife they serve, which include beaver, grosbeaks, tanagers and other forest-nesting songbirds, native trout, and gallery forest trees.

There is still a long road to the Mogollon becoming a Wildway. Next, we need to have a conversation with stakeholders and promote the advancement of a conservation track. A close conservation partner of the Rewilding Institute, Wild Arizona, has brought in a contractor, Nikki Check, as a Mogollon Highlands trail coordinator to facilitate this process, and we will continue to work with Kahtoola and many others, to advance this important project.

Wild Arizona and the Rewilding Institute can always use more volunteers for plant restoration projects and further exploration of a Mogollon trail. If you’d like to help, visit rewilding.org. And stay up to date on IG by following the Rewilding Institute @rewilding.earth, Wild Arizona @wild_arizona_, and Kahtoola @kahtoola.