BY WELDON F. HEALD
| There is a queer urge in some people-to see a mountain is to want to get to the top of it. I am one of these eccentrics with a bad case of mountainitis. The only known cure is a diet of high camps, vast panorama and lofty summits against the blue sky. That is the best reason I can give for spending five days atop northern Arizona's San Francisco Peaks. There I played Zeus upon Olympus, far above the busy world of men, and came down satisfied- | until the next mountain rose skyward before
me, beckoning. But the San Francisco Peaks excerpt a special allure to mountain addicts like me, for they rise abrupt and isolated more than a mile above piney Coconino Plateau and they look down upon everything else in the state. Wherever one goes into the Canyon Country each sweeping view includes the stately outline of this huge, old, peak-topped volcano, |
PAGE TWELVE ARIZONA HIGHWAYS AUGUST 1954