Second Stop: Mogollon Rim (The Last of Arizona Part 3)
Three weeks. Two cameras. One man desperately speedrunning all his favorite photography spots.
35mm, 1/125s, f/3.5, ISO 800
I’ve been driving up here for years, and I know this route like the back of my hand.
From the ripping winds on the edge of the Rim itself to the mirror-still water of Willow Springs Lake, this forest is one of my favorite places in all of Arizona.
The lake, I’m pretty sure, is cursed in some way. There’s a good chance the whole forest is, honestly.
I’ve read legends stating that since the Rim is a sort of transitional environment between the desert and the forest, the barriers between the spiritual plane and our own are thin, allowing for… hijinks, to grossly oversimplify it.
35mm, 0.5s, f/4.5, ISO 1250
The lake is the creepiest at night, and I usually end up hightailing it out of the forest when an overwhelming feeling of being watched settles in the pit of my stomach.
It’s rarely just a feeling of being watched, though.
That feeling quickly fades and twists into a deep-seated feeling of no longer being welcome.
This particular time, I didn’t even have the will to pack up my camera gear - as soon as I heard the scream, I grabbed my tripod and my bag and sprinted back to my car, my path lit only by the full moon overhead.