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The sun may be shining in the Sonoran desert but, this time of year, snow calls to me and I long for a short taste of winter. When I received an email from Hannagan Meadow Lodge with pictures of the white stuff piled beside the Coronado Trail, it was my call to “come play in the snow.”

A storm moves across Arizona, causing a household debate. Can we make it to Hannagan Meadow? Will we be stuck there? My longing for snow wins out and Alan and I leave early on a Friday morning.

Our route introduces us to a part of eastern Arizona and western New Mexico unfamiliar to us. As the road climbs higher, cactus strewn desert turns to tree studded mountains. We drive a sparsely traveled two-lane road, entering an area that looks a lot like Montana. Cattle graze on rolling hillsides as tall mountains stand guard.

It is sunny with a bright blue sky although clouds hover in the distance. Occasionally, white patches of snow appear but nothing conducive to sledding or cross-country skiing. Where is my snow?

The sky spits a few flakes as we pull into Alpine, Arizona (around 8,000 ft.) and still the snow on the ground is sparse. We only have 1,000 ft of elevation to climb and I begin to fret that the photos of snow were all hype.

We turn onto the Coronado Trail and travel south for the final 23 miles to Hannagan Meadow. A sign warns: Beware, no plowing during storms, nights or weekends. The snow begins to fall harder.

As the road twists and turns, more white appears. We round a sharp curve and suddenly there it is - winter. The ground is covered in a deep layer of snow.

By the time we arrive at Hannagan Meadow Lodge, the wind is howling and the snow begins to fall in earnest. We made it just in time.

Our one-bedroom cabin is warmed by a wood-burning stove. On the covered porch, an axe sticks into a chopping block, next to a pile of wood. Alan, who likes to chop wood, gets busy and soon the cabin is toasty warm.

At dinner, we are the only guests. Alan and I sit by the window watching swirls of snow blow across the meadow. A fire crackles in the big, stone fireplace as the wind moans through the trees.

Overnight, the storm blows through leaving behind perfect weather for a winter weekend. We take long walks on roads padded with powdery snow, then return to our cabin to sit by the fire and drink hot chocolate.

In the afternoon, Alan cross-country skis for the first time while I work to improve my skills, gliding on a path through the meadow where elk graze in the summer. When I stop to rest, the only sound is the pounding of my heart from the exertion of skiing up a slight hill. The air is crisp and snow crystals sparkle in the sunlight. Ahhh, winter at last.

Read more about staying at Hannagan Meadow Lodge at my blog about baby boomer travel, My Itchy Travel Feet .

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