The Mother of All Adventures

I was done with church, and I had bought my bracelet. Yet the day was still young.

Getting back to the B & B, I changed out of my Sunday-Go-To-Meeting clothes and put on something more appropriate for adventuring.

This time, I was going to take a drive out to the Spur Cross Ranch Conservation Area. It was about a 5 mile ride.

Having learned my lesson from previous hikes, I brought my boonie hat and, more importantly, packed my replenished water bottle.

Driving is easy in Arizona. The roads make sense. And people seem to respect the plentiful 4-way stop signs. Even when the pavement gives way to dirt the roads still have appeared easily navigable.

I drove up the occasionally twisty and turny Spur Cross Road, passing a couple of horse ranches, until I reached an area that looked like it had some heavy excavation going on.

Was I heading in the right direction?

Well, I had to be. There was no other way I could have gone.

Shortly after what appeared to be a giant gravel pit lay the parking lot.

I discovered a bit later on that the gravel pit area was the closed-down Phoenix Mine. So that's what a mine looked like.

When it came to mines, I had visions of mineral carts on rails that led down a dark maw into the pit of the earth and where miners wore helmets with lights on them.

This mine looked nothing like the mines I pictured in my imagination. This was just a whole bunch of huge piles of dirt.

There was one other car in the parking area. (I hate to call it a "parking lot" because it is not nicely paved with neatly painted lines. It was just an area that had been cleared out and had its surface leveled.)

Getting out of my car, I followed the signs that pointed towards the trails.

The information hut was about a quarter of a mile walk. However, I had to stop and take pictures of the beautiful panoramic view.

And what a view it was!

Breathtakingly gorgeous!

There were mountains all around

and as far as the eye could see.

See that VERY tiny light colored rectangular structure under the mountain on the right? That was the information hut and the starting point of the hiking and horse trails.

After having taken my panoramic shots, I started walking towards the trails.

Coming from the opposite direction were 2 young women wearing white pants and what looked like, to me, resort wear. One was carrying a small white and red umbrella, daintily holding it aloft like a parasol. The other was carrying what looked like an extra pair of shoes.

Strange.

What were they doing here? They looked like they just came back from sipping mojitos in Miami instead of hiking the hard-scrabble desert trails of Arizona.

Shortly after passing the odd couple, I came to a locked gate that had a small opening to the right to permit people and horses.

Just beyond the opening, there was an information kiosk ~ sort of like those "you-are-here" thingies.

I read the rules, observed the honor system by paying my $3.00 permit fee, grabbed my permit number and a trail map, and proceeded to the trails.

Just before the start of the trails was the information hut with a couple of ATVs parked to the side. At least somebody thought to make the building more interesting by painting a mural of desert life on its side.

Now, let the hike begin!

The trails were nice and wide. And I definitely made sure to stick to the middle of the trail.

There was desert scrub everywhere. In some spots, these areas were fenced off from the trail because they were private property. God! Imagine having all this beauty in your backyard!

Where the areas were not fenced off, I had to resist the temptation to go off-trail and explore. After all, I never knew where a rattlesnake would be hiding. At least with a wide trail I have more ground visibility than were I to go off and play in the scrub.

Along the trail I came to a dried out riverbed.

This is the ONLY water I saw in any of my desert hikes in Arizona.

This is the other side of the riverbed that I just crossed.

And this is looking down on the same riverbed further up the trail.

Further up the trail, the landscape gets more hilly.

I just can't get enough of those saguaro cacti.

Oh wow! I've entered a saguaro forest. Cool!

That poor fellow on the left looks rather tired and beat, doesn't he?

It gets awfully hot hoofing it uphill.

In addition to saguaro, there's prickly pear.

Here's a close-up so that you can see the fruit on the cactus. I was thinking of picking the fruit. But 2 things stopped me.

First of all, I did not want to get too close to annoy any sleeping rattlesnakes.

Secondly, the fruit itself is dotted with tiny spines that I did not feel like making the effort to remove them before taking a taste.

Both the leaves and fruit of the prickly pear cactus are edible. However, it does take some preparation before you can safely eat the cactus without running the risk of getting a mouthful of spines.

Look at all those hills and mountains. I'm sure glad I wasn't going to be climbing them.

God! I may be hot and exhausted from the unrelenting sun and practically non-existent shade, but I still cannot get enough of all this desert beauty!

I came across another dried out riverbed.

Can you imagine a river flowing through here? Or even a creek?

Look at all the cracks of this dried up river bottom.

I picked up one of those dried chunks to see how it would feel. I was curious to see if it crumbled in my hand.

It didn't!

That dried river cake was nearly hard as a rock. I could not break it in half. And it did not shatter into pieces when I dropped it.

I was contemplating in putting a piece of the dried river bed in my pack to bring back with me. However I decided against it. Even though it did not break with my rough handling, I felt that travelling all the way back to Massachusetts would reduce it to a powder.

Look at all the erosion! I wonder what could have caused it. A flash flood perhaps during monsoon season?

One would normally associate flooding with coastal communities because of the hurricanes and tropical storms that commonly occur in the ocean and then move towards land.

However, the danger of flooding is very real in desert communities. And there are very specific steps and precautions concerning emergency preparations in the event of flooding.

I had bought a post card with a picture of an Arizona flash flood. The back of the postcard has this to say:

"During the rainy season in Arizona, rain water does not absorb into the dry ground like it should. This often causes many flash floods to occur. Flash flooding is a major danger in Arizona as these waves of flood water move at incredible speeds and can roll boulders, tear out trees, or destroy bridges."

Wow! That's intense!

In all likelihood, that eroded cliff could have very easily been carved out by a flash flood.

This saguaro looks as though it went to a party and had one too many margaritas.

Here's a saguaro skeleton. Bet that could made made into something really cool.

Wish I had that in my backyard!

Anyhow, I had my hike all planned out and was moving right along.

As with the other hikes, this one was grueling. I could not help but think that had I been home, walking this same distance would have hardly been a problem.

As much as I relished the high heat and low humidity, I was not used to physical exertion in this kind of climate. I could shovel snow for 2 hours and hardly have to stop to catch my breath. Here, just a 15-minute trail walk was asking a lot.

But I could not go home without having experienced the desert environment and hiked the desert trails.

My hiking plan had been to do a 2.5 mile loop and then return to my car, making it just a little bit over 3 miles total.

I started on the the main trail and hiked 0.2 miles to the Metate Trail junction. Seeing that the main trail was a total of 5.3 miles, I decided to take the much shorter Metate Trail which measured a mere 0.8 miles.

Along the Metate Trail was the short Towhee Trail that started at one point of the Metate Trail and bowed along for 0.2 miles before it came further out along the Metate Trail.

Seeing that I was already hot and feeling the effects of physical exertion, I decided to skip the Towhee Trail and continue along the Metate before it linked up with the main trail.

From there I was planning on hopping onto the main trail and completing the loop back to the information hut.

I had long passed the end junction of the Towhee Trail. The elevation was getting higher, and the going was more strenuous. All along I passed several times to take pictures, drink some water, and once to pee.

I was perhaps 0.1 to 0.2 miles from the junction with the main trail that I happened to glance at my wrist and notice that I forgot to take off my new bracelet before going on the hike.

And, as I turned my wrist to glimpse at that gorgeous green turquoise stone, I noticed that it was missing!

SHIT!

I was shocked, pissed, and heart-broken all rolled into one.

There was nothing I could do but turn around and backtrack, even if that meant adding more distance and time to my hike.

I didn't want to turn around, not only for the fact that it would have taken me longer to get back to the car, but also for the fact that I did not want to see what I had already seen.

Sure, all those cacti, mountains, and desert scrub may look the same after awhile. Still, I wanted to see what else was up the trail. And now I couldn't because I had to turn around and look for that damn stone.

In backtracking, I had a very vague recollection of hearing something drop. But I figured that it was my lens cap, which has a tendency to fall off if it's not snapped on securely.

I was just praying that I would not have to travel far until I came to the spot where I thought I heard something fall.

My hiking now took on a different focus. Instead of looking up and all around me, I was scanning the ground while slowly walking.

And forget about taking any more pictures. My eyes had to be focused on the ground and not through a view-finder.

In some places, the bare earth made it easy to see that there weren't any stones out of the ordinary. (I even stopped to pick up a couple of interesting local rocks.) That, however, was more difficult in sections where the path was covered with stones for several feet along the trail.

It would have taken me hours just to carefully go through all the rocks and stones in that patch of trail.

In the meantime, I was getting even more hot. While I had started this hike right after lunch time, the sun had been climbing high and warming up the air even more.

I had to stop more often to take more drinks of water. I still had about half a mile to go to where the main trail starts. After that, there was another 0.3 mile hike back to the car.

In my desperation about over-heating, I even scooped some water from a puddle at the dried-up riverbed to splash on the back of my neck, all along praying there was no unfriendly fauna in it just waiting to do me harm.

All the while, my water bottle was getting concerningly low.

As I travelled another quarter of a mile, I started getting alarmed when I realized that I had to start rationing my water. That was one concept I never had to deal with before. And it was a tad bit scary.

These trails are not as heavily populated as those back in New England. What if I had succomb to the elements? How long would it have taken before someone discovered that I was missing and organized a rescue party?

And for that matter, did I even tell Carolyn where I was planning to go before I headed out to hike the trails at the Spur Cross Ranch Conservation Area?

Let's hope to God I did.

And what if I had an encounter with one of those ornery rattlesnakes?

I would have been dead meat.

Fortunatety the angels were with me all the way, with every slow and difficult step.

Unfortunately, in keeping me safe from harm, they too missed the errant stone.

The stone was nowhere to be found along the trails. It also eluded me when I went to the area where I took the mountain panorama shots.

The only thing left was to walk back to the car and hope that it was there when I circled around it.

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

I had even hoped that perhaps there was some chance that the stone could have fallen into my backpack when I went to withdraw the water bottle. Or perhaps fallen somewhere in the car.

No such luck.

At this point, hot and dehydrated, all I cared about was that now-familiar ritual of getting into my car and cranking the AC for several minutes while my body recovered from the heat and exertion.

I could not help but think that someone will someday stumble upon the stone and get excited over such an amazing find.

But until then, it'll be a pretty bauble for the desert devas to enjoy and play with.

Further Adventures on Day 2

Alrighty then.

Having recovered from my early morning hike, it was now time for me to depart my nicely air conditioned room and make my way to the main house for breakfast. It was to be a gut-busting breakfast as I was soon to find out.

On my way to get stuffed, I noticed an overturned flower pot on the patio, which I thought was odd.

Anyhow, I soon found out who was the author of that minor bit of vandalism.

It seems as though a herd of javelinas paid a visit during the night, on a quest for a fine dining experience. They knocked over more than that one flower pot I saw. They stripped the hibiscus and other plants of all their leaves. And they even pulled a small cactus out of a flower pot and took a small bite out of it.

Aw gee! And I missed it all.

I had wanted to see a javelina. And I even got a big kick out of the "Javenlina X-ing" sign just further up the road. But with my body being on east coast time, I was dead to the world by the time the javelinas partied down on the patio at Spur Cross B & B.

Well, the javelinas had their meal. Now it was time for me to have mine.

And what a meal that was.

For starters I had half a grapefruit with raw sugar. There was bacon that was done to the most perfect crispness possible. And there was this giant big-butt slab of French toast, with sliced apples inside, that was baked instead of fried. And, of course, there was plenty of coffee.

Oh my God! How was I going to eat all of this?!

As it turns out, I could only eat half of the French toast. Not wanting to offend Carolyn, my hostess, by wasting good food, I asked if I could get it wrapped up to put in my fridge to have for later.

While eating, I mentioned to Carolyn that I was thinking of taking a drive to the Sears-Kay ruins that I read about in the visitor's guide book in my room.

Having been a recent transplant, Carolyn was not aware of the ruins. But she did tell me that if I were to drive up the road and continue through the intersection up the road, that I could get to a trail on the mountain that would allow me breath-taking views of both sides of the mountain. She said that the road will end and turn into a dirt road, but that it's still passable, even with that low and crappy Ford Focus.

So, after breakfast, armed with a camera and a water bottle in my backpack, I was off on another adventure.

I crossed the main drag and continued up the road. Yup, it did turn into a dirt road. But I soldiered on. I came to an area that said to turn around, that there was no parking beyond that point. Carolyn never mentioned that. So I just figured that this was the continuation of the dirt road that lead to the trail that she was telling me about.

WRONG!

I found myself going down what seemed like somebody's private driveway. (A few adobe McMansions dotted the mountain side.) Well, I couldn't exactly go down somebody's driveway, now could I? That would be rude.

Yet, there was no room for me to turn the car around. There was nothing I could do but back up down the mountain until I got to a spot where I could easily and safely turn the car around.

And that was easier said than done. Never mind worrying about getting the car dinged up with rocks and then having to pay the rental company for damages on the car. How about worrying about going over the edge instead?

Yup, that's what I said, "...going over the edge." You see, to the right of me was nothing but a sheer drop. No guard rails. No boulders. Nothing between me and the bottom way below. Gee, try explaining that to the rental car company!

Anyhow, seeing that I am here to re-tell the experience, it's obvious that I have not gone over the edge ~ at least not the literal edge.

It took some scary and careful maneuvering, but I finally made it to a spot where I could safely turn around. OK, now back to worrying about dinging up the car with rocks.

What a relief it was to finally be pointing in the right direction and off that evil mountain! As I made my descent, I saw 2 hikers in the distance starting their ascent. At least they won't have to worry about going ass-end over the cliff.

Well, with that finally out of the way, I went back to my original plan, which was to take a drive to the Sears-Kay ruins.

The ruins were off the local map that I had. But the directions that I got from the visitor's guide book made it easy enough to piece things together. At least the roads here are laid out in a more wide open and logical order than the ones back home.

I had to go just to the outside of Carefree, Cave Creek's neighboring town. (If I had to go just outside of Carefree, then where was I? North Scottsdale?)

Once I turned off Cave Creek Road onto Seven Springs Road, the driving got interesting. I'd never seen hair-pin turns like that. And that sign warning about a dip in the road? I'll tell you, that wasn't a dip, that was a freakin' roller coaster!

But just imagine all those hair-pin turns and dramatic dips in one of the most beautiful country ever. There were so many places where I would have just loved to have stopped the car, gotten out, and taken pictures.

Finally I made it to the parking area at the base of the hill where the ruins are located.

This sign told me what to expect. Notice the last sentence. Snakes and water are cast iron facts of life in this part of the country.

I had my water and my camera. But, gee, I forgot my boonie hat. Well, no sense in turning around and driving all of 8 miles and back just for a hat.

The hike up the hill proceeded like the one earlier that morning, except for a couple of salient points: this hill was much bigger and the temperature was much hotter.

Yet, I was still determined to get to the top. And just like Saguaro Hill behind the B & B, I quickly discovered that when I thought I was about to reach the top that there was still a whole lot of hill left to go.

And it was a strenuous hike where my water bottle was my best friend and every step was a prayer thanking God for not having me pass out from heat stroke.

I was all alone up on this rock. What would happen if I passed out, slipped on some loose rocks, or gotten bitten by a rattlesnake?

Well, there was also a singular advantage of being alone in this very wide and open space with no cover. And that advantage was immediately made known when my bladder got the urge to vacate. In other words, I had to pee.

Seeing that there were no bushes or trees to hide behind it was just me and the open sky.

Feeling somewhat satisfied, it was upward and onward.

While I was slowly trudging up to the top, I kept imagining what life would have been like in 900 AD, when the ruins were first built. In my mind's eye I could see children running up and down the paths on the hill oblivious to the desert heat.

Where would the basket maker be? And where would I find the stone carver? How did the Hohokum defend themselves? Where did they gather for their communal circles?

Amid the imagining and exertion, I finally made it to the top! Hooray! Yippie! Yay! I conquered the hill!

And once on top of the hill I got my glimpse of the ruins.

It was amazing to see the walls of the ruins. They really did give an idea of how the structures would have looked well over 1000 years ago.

And that main ruin wasn't just the walls of one small hut. Look how far back it goes. There were at least 3 rooms in this ruin.

Here's another ruin, smaller than the one above.

Still another ruin. Or is it the same one?

In addition to the ruins, the view from up top was well worth it.

Now isn't that a spectacular view? Looks like I could have lifted it right out the pages of the "National Geographic!" (Do you think they would hire me as a photographer???

Walking around the top of the hill I saw more ruins and some very large free-standing rocks.

Here's a close-up of the free-standing boulder in the above picture. It reminds me of one of those Easter Island heads.

Now came time to start making my descent. As much as I enjoyed the history and beauty up top, I was hot, not feeling all that great, and just dying to get some AC.

Just like going up, each step on the way down was a prayer thanking God for assuring my safety.

Each step closer to the parking lot brought me a new sense of elation. To spur me on to my quest for an air conditioned vehicle, I would imagine myself already there, seat all the way back, and the AC blasting on the highest setting possible.

And my hands started getting that weird vibration feeling again that signaled that I better get out of the sun really fast.

But before I got all the way down, I had to turn around and take a picture of the side of the hill that I just came down from. It doesn't look like much, does it? However, be forewarned that in the Arizona desert looks can be deceiving.

Finally the car was in sight and on relatively the same elevation that I was. Another few steps I was inside doing just what I had envisioned on my descent: leaning seat way back with the AC blasting.

I don't know how many minutes I stayed like that. It must have been awhile ~ or at least felt like it ~ because I was getting concerned about burning too much gas.

However, in my air conditioned reverie I heard car doors slam. Opening my eyes and turning my head, I saw some guys exiting a car. (Good thing they weren't there when I needed to pee.)

One of them looked at me, and I wonder what was going through his head.

Then I saw 2 more cars, all bearing Michigan plates. (And what are the chances that a large group of guys would have been able to rent out 3 cars all with Michigan plates?)

At that point, I felt that it would be a good idea to leave. I could have stayed longer. But I felt sufficiently recovered to drive on to my next adventure.

Day 2 - Pre Breakfast Adventure

Having been fully rested from the night before, today was the day for some adventuring.

Seeing that I'm still operating on east coast time, I got up early and decided to hike up the hill behind the B & B before breakfast.

That area behind the B & B is not just any nameless desert scenery. It's actually called the Caroline Bartol Preserve on Saguaro Hill and it's also the site of the Goldwater Memorial Garden, named for Senator Barry Goldwater.

I didn't see any obvious trails while I was going up the hill. But at least the vegetation wasn't closely packed together that I would have to bush-whack through thickets of thorny cacti and be caught unawares by hidden rattlesnakes.

It was 7 o'clock in the morning, and already the day was showing signs of getting hot. But I figured that a short hike up the hill behind the B & B wouldn't be such a big deal.

Anyhow, that hike was to be the first among several lessons in the rigors of desert hiking.

A little hill like that would have not given me much problem in the leafy forests of New England, not even for somebody who's no longer in the shape she used to be.

But here it's different. It's exposed. And it's hot.

So every several feet I found myself struggling to catch my breath ~ really catch my breath.

However I wasn't going to let a little hill like that get the better of me, even if it was hot and without a lick of shade.

While hiking up that hill, and other hills to follow, I discovered that here, in Arizona, when you think you've gotten to the top of the hill, there is a whole more hill left to go.

"Great," she says with sarcasm.

Still the view from the top was spectacular and well worth the effort.

You could see all this land spread out before the mountains. And you could see why this area is called the Desert Foothills.

All around you could see saguaro cacti. But then, what do you expect from a place called Saguaro Hill?

This is the spot of the Goldwater Memorial Garden. That stone wall makes a great place to catch your breath. And that's a good thing because there's still a lot more hill left to go.

Saguaros aren't the only cacti to occupy Saguaro Hill.

You certainly would not want to back up into this baby!

And here's another example why this place is called Saguaro Hill. Notice that pale green saguaro near the middle. Its color was really out of place with all the other saguaros.

Here's a dead saguaro. Dead saguaros are collected and used to make interesting sculptures as well as floor and table lamps. The center is hollow, and there's enough spacing in between the ribs for the light to shine through.

Here's another dead saguaro with its innards somewhat intact.

Gradually, I'm making my descent. There's the B & B down below.

As I get closer down, I get a better look at that odd-colored saguaro. It looks Gumby green to me. I haven't seen other saguaros that pale green color. (That's the Desert Foothills Library, that's under construction, behind ol' Gumby.)

This gives you an idea of how tall these suckers get. A saguaro cactus can easily get 30 to 40 feet tall. That's about the size of your average backyard maple.

And did you know that one foot of saguaro weighs 100 pounds? And that's not counting the weight of the arms. So when one of those beasts falls, get out of the way FAST!

Oh good! Finally I'm back down to the B & B. (That little tiny blob on the right edge is one of the hummingbird feeders at the Spur Cross.)

Boy! Was I ever glad to be done with that hike.

It's not that I didn't enjoy seeing all that beauty. It's that the hike took a lot out of me. I was winded, hot, and thirsty. My hands were experiencing this weird vibration from God knows what.

Even for such a short hike behind the B & B, I should have worn a hat and taken some water with me. I cannot begin to stress enough how important it is to have water with you constantly when you're outdoors in this kind of environment.

I still had about 15 to 20 minutes left before breakfast ~ enough time for me to suck down some water and suck up the AC in my room.

After all, it was still early in the morning, and I had more adventures awaiting me that day.