The 2011 Wallow Fire: The White Mountains of eastern Arizona have always held an important place in my soul. Starting at a young age, every year as June approached, my excitement would peak in anticipation of the annual fishing trip with my granddad to Black River. As I grew older the nature of these trips expanded. It wasn't just about fishing anymore (it never really was), it had grown to every aspect of enjoying nature that became ingrained in my personality. If you can say there is a special place in your heart, Black River is mine.

In May of 2011, two campers in the Bear Wallow Wilderness Area left camp without fully extinguishing their camp fire. Winds picked up and carried its flames into the surrounding forest. The fire raged and ultimately consumed over 500,000 acres of some of the most pristine wild lands in Arizona. It also destroyed many commercial and private structures. When it was finally considered fully contained on July 8, it had crossed the Arizona/New Mexico state line consuming over 15,000 acres there. It now had the distinction of being the largest wild fire in Arizona history.

Driving through the burn area in Fall of 2023, evidence remained of how widespread the fire was. Twelve plus years later the tallest spruce and pine trees from pre-fire days remain visible as denuded blackened poles extending high above the resurging forest of aspens. Quite the contrast. Other indications of the destruction that still exist and the remaining impacts to the area are much rougher road surfaces; the many signs that have been placed on roads, in campgrounds, and at trailheads warning of the potential hazards of down or weakened trees that have or may topple at any time; and the closure of campgrounds due to the potential of the hazards. The other impact not fully discussed here is the impact to the people that were evacuated from homes and those that lost their homes and businesses in the fire.

Still, my heart belongs here. My hiking boots will continue to compress its soil from time to time and my camera will strive to capture its beauty. And hopefully, my flyrod will borrow one or more of Black River's beautiful trout for just a few moments of excitement until returning it to the cold, clear waters.