Adventure 689: Lost Dutchman State Park/Post H

We left the park today and headed up into the Superstition Mountains in search of a place called Massacre Stream. We drove a little ways along the Apache Trail to the trailhead. From there it was 2.5 miles mostly up to a box canyon where a seasonal waterfall often has water, especially after a rain. We found no water, but the ground was damp in places. The first part of the hike took us through a burned area that looked much like a desolate moonscape. I felt sorry for each of the charred remnants of vegetation. After we ascended the first mesa, the flora and fauna became more like what we're used to this year: green and lush. This year has been unusual by our reckoning. The desert seems especially green, the plants seem especially healthy, and there seems to be many more insects out and about. After two and a half miles of climbing we reached the end of the box canyon. If we had wanted to go further, it would have meant a very steep boulder scramble. The story of this box canyon massacre is that miners were in the Superstitions looking for gold. The Apaches considered the mountains sacred. They asked the miners to leave. The miners declined. The Apaches gathered their warriors and drove the miners into this box canyon where they... well, they massacred them. Of course, the story is told with sympathy for the miners since their ancestors wrote the history. Nonetheless, it was easy to see why the miners couldn't defend themselves. Outnumbered and boxed in, they had little choice but to fight it out. I doubt very much the gold concerned the Indians. No miners lived to report their view. For us, there was no sign of bloodshed. It was just another lovely day hiking in the desert affirming our realization that life is good, especially today.

Looking good, Bunny.

We met a couple of young locals who said the desert has been burning regularly in places the last few year.

I wonder how long it takes for the plants to regenerate.

The picture doesn't show it, but these saguaros have scalded trunks.

This poor guy is looking for a ride out of this place.

Selfie of the day.

We chose not to continue or climb up the dry falls.

Travel at your own risk.

Peace shot of the day. A lonely survivor providing hope for the rest of us.
  

Adventure 688: Lost Dutchman State Park/Post G

The Wiley Cager took umbrage with my comments about her moaning and groaning about her cribbage fortunes, rightly noting that I, too, am prone to complaining about our dear dame, fickle fate. It's true. I can complain louder than a Kyrsten Sinema campaign donor, but fortunately I haven't had to. I'm living as large as our dear self-righteous cad, president (that's a small p) Manchin. But I mustn't digress. As turbulent as the winds were yesterday, today's bright sky pushed any thought of distress away. The azure sky, the fresh air, the chirping cactus wrens, and even the site of a lone coyote wandering through camp warmed our hearts and our spirits. We took a long morning hike, finishing the list of labeled trails in the park. We even went off trail and a bit beyond the boundaries of the park to find a trail called the First Water. We'll explore it more fully in the days to come. The highlight of the day may have been walking through a desert wedding ceremony of two ladies who were surrounded by their loving friends and relatives. They looked blissful, and didn't mind too much as we interrupted their "You may kiss your spouse" moment. In a world where equity is uncertain, it's heartwarming to see the idea of true love bravely witnessed. It makes me appreciate that life is good, especially today.

The desert views were simply marvelous today.

This fellow appears to be strutting.

My Bunny says, "Hi."

To quote a friend, "There's poetry in that prickly embrace.

This loop marked the last trail to hike on our list. It led to an out of park experience.

Our Hyacinth likes the view from our front room.

What more proof do you need that though we're individual, we're all connected.

After seeing so many bags of poo left behind, we've taken to carrying a bag with us so we can retrieve them from the desert.

The prickly pear cactus was a staple of the Apache food groups. I'm tempted to pluck an ear to test the taste.

Peace shot of the day. Our world has many quite stunning elements visible for those who see.

 

Adventure 687: Lost Dutchman State Park/ Post F

During breakfast, on the first deal of the day, the Cager nearly woke up the neighbors when she howled, "I don't like it when you say Ooh, Baby!". You see I had thrown a pair of sevens into my crib. The Cager, unaware of this had thrown in an eight and a nine. A third seven was cut. If you know the game, you know I then scampered my way twenty-one pegs down the track. Nice lead for one hand. She whined like a Republican counting votes for the rest of the game. The cribbage gods must have been moved because I ended the game just two cents to the good. I'm up $.93 cents for the month with nine days to play. Hopefully, by the end of the month the Wiley Cager will be reaching for her wallet to buy me a delicious breakfast treat. Other than cribbage, not much happened today. The desert wind whistled down the mountain all day, buffeting the trailer like a nanny shaking a baby's tram.. At one point a gust lifted our awning, causing it to yaw in the breeze. I had to retract it for safety. We decided to stay in for the day. We watched Kentucky go down to defeat to Auburn in a college basketball game. Judy knitted while I worked writing my life story. At the end of the game, we braved the wind for a quick hour walk around the camping loops to see who our new neighbors were. We didn't introduce ourselves to anyone, although we did wave to a few people. Most everyone was holed up in their RVs, staying out of the blustery weather. In the afternoon, we cheered on the Cincinnati Bengals. Neither of us know that much about football, but the game excited us nonetheless. It was a good day to be fans, and glad we are that Frac is as comfortable as can be. And of course, we're grateful that life is good, especially today.

A sad day in Nashville. Notice my saguaro buddy out the side window.

A healthy chef salad for dinner.

The promise of a blustery day. I took this photo out the front window at 7 A.M. .

My Bunny knitting away.

The unsettled sky brewing. I took this picture out the front window at 7:15 A.M. No peaceful pictures taken today.

Adventure 686: Lost Dutchman State Park/Post E

We moved from site 22 to site 83 today. We'll stay here for four days before we move again. Our new loop is a bit more crowded, but it's still pretty peaceful. After we setup in the new spot, we knocked off another of the trails in the park. This one is called Prospector's View. It was a bit strenuous to get to the view point, but the afternoon, while sunny, was quite cool, and actually perfect for hiking. The hike totaled four miles, and in all we put in seven miles today, which has become about average. Everyday we're more impressed with the beauty of the desert, and we feel fortunate to be able to experience the fresh air, the bright sky, and the endless hope it inspires. Given the chaos that surrounds us, it's good to find peace where we can. Poet Mark Strand in his poem Keeping Things Whole suggests that when we divide society into fragments (As many are doing), we're working against the will of nature because nature is an integral form of all living organisms. 

Keeping Things Whole

In a field

I am the absence

of field.

When I walk

I part the air

and always

We all have reasons

for moving.

Lately my whole reason for existing is because life IS good, especially today.

I'm ever amazed by the individual grandeur of these saguaros.

Way down below the Prospector's View is Fric and Frac.

Life is good.

I think maybe some of our politicians should take the Scout's oath.

There's gold somewhere in them there hills.

Our new campsite.

Selfie of the day: A couple of Happy Campers.

Peace shot of the day.

 My favorite Mark Strand quote: Nothing will tell you where you are. Each moment is a place you've never been.

Adventure 685: Lost Dutchman State Park/Post D

One of our favorite activities on these adventures is to explore the hiking trails wherever we are. Lost Dutchman has ten trails within the park. Today we ventured up Siphon Draw, a four mile round trip that winds into a canyon. Elevation gained:1000 ft. We decided not to leave the park and follow the unmaintained portion of the trail that reaches the top of a mesa called Flat Iron. Elevation gain: Another 2000 ft. My cardiologist, who sometimes goes by the moniker "Wiley Cager", advised against it. Nonetheless, the view from where we turned around was gift enough for the day. It's not that we quit walking for the day. Our new strategy is to take shorter walks more often. So today's hiking totaled out at 8.9 miles, and I had a heart beat the entire way. In cribbage news, I skunked the Cager this morning, but more amazing is during our noon game she opened with a hand of 26, followed that with a 20, and that with a 16. I was very nearly in danger of a rebuttal skunk until the fortunes of clean living blessed me with a stunning comeback. I still lost, but just by five which totals out to "Buddy can you lend me a dime?" At this point I'm leading by $1.20 in the January challenge. If you listen you can hear the Wiley Cager howling like a desert coyote. 

It's also come to my attention by the fashion police that my sun glasses make me look like grandpa. I tried to remind those well meaning commentators that I am indeed a grandpa; however, it's a point well taken. I've been using the sunglasses they gave me after my cataract surgery (If that doesn't scream grandpa, I don't know what does). For the last many years I've had photo gray lenses in my glasses that turn dark in the sun so I haven't had to think about sunglasses. It seems I need to invest in a more stylish pair. On another note, even though it may seem that I own only one suit of clothes, I can assure you that I have several of the same type. I only have two Zag sweatshirts with me, but I wear one often, and I truly enjoy yelping, "Go Zags" whenever people comment onGonzaga. So let it be known. New glasses and new clothes will be the new watchword. In the meantime, let it also be known that life is good, especially today. and as a P.S. Go Zags!

Just two thousand more feet to the Flat Iron. 

Let's go. We can make it.

Take it easy, buster.

This is called a Teddy Bear cholla, but I wouldn't advise trying to snuggle up to it. Often, small pieces of the cholla are on the ground around a plant. The small pieces are attracted to static electricity. They latch themselves on to nearby legs. I haven't experienced it yet, but people say it takes pliers to remove them. Heck of a way to propagate yourself is what I say.

The view from the mouth of the canyon called Siphon Draw.

Who are you calling Grandpa? 

Peace shot of the day.

Adventure 684: Lost Dutchman State Park/Post C

We put in seven miles on foot today, most of it on the Mountain Bike trail, which circumnavigates the entirety of Lost Dutchman campground and day use area. It was quite pleasant except for what's become a regular sight for us: bags of discarded dog poo. I'd much rather these dog owners go the full distance of irresponsibility. If they'd just let their dogs do their business in nature, at least the night critters would rid the desert of it. As it is, it's very disconcerting to see brightly colored plastic bags litter the desert floor, being their half life is somewhere near a billion years. There, I've vented. In the afternoon we took a scenic drive to Tortilla Flats, population 6. The winding road through the mountains provided exquisite views of jagged peaks, forests of saguaros, and all types and colors of rocks. Just past Canyon Lake, Tortilla Flats is a four building town that includes a US Post Office. The bar had live music, and the place was packed with people that looked a lot like us. There was even a bicyclist on his Trek who braved the narrow, steep, and winding road. We toured the adjacent Tortilla Flats Campground, which is part of the Tonto National Park system. In all, it was an enjoyable experience. Canyon Lake Reservoir, created by the Mormon Flat Dam that was complete in 1925 appears to be a haven for boaters in the area. At 1660' of surface area and an average depth of 130', the lake provides enough space for many to revel in. Most amazing, though, was the terrain we drove through to get there. Those who think Arizona is just desert should come here to have their perspective changed. They would discover that life is good, especially today.

Can't get enough of these saguaros.

Canyon Lake.

This guy tried to run out on his bar tab.

Maybe this is the Lost Dutchman.

The Brittle Bush is just about to bloom. This is an early bird.

Twelve students?

Who in their right mind would dig when nitro is available.

This mighty guy is at least seventy-five years old.

Though we walked, the mountain bike trail is actually quite nice, and easy.

Art shot of the day: Barrel Noir.

Once again, the evening light in the desert inspires a kind of gentle peace.

Adventure 683: Lost Dutchman State Park/Post B

We heard the pitter patter of rain on the roof this morning. It turned out to be less than a hundredth of an inch, and by the time we finished our breakfast, the blue sparkle of sunlight met the day. So we decided to hunt for the Dutchman's gold. We hiked the treasure trail, a four mile round trip, that winds itself up through the base of the Superstition Mountains. We didn't find any gold, but the morning felt glorious nonetheless. My heart kept pace, rising only to 95 beats per minute at the end of the thousand foot climb. I learned that over three million dollars of gold ore has been taken from the Superstitions. Whatever's left is still there after our search. I spent most of the hike imagining where the Lost Dutchman may have hidden his legendary mine. I don't know. I do know that my imagination has served me well over the years. I've always believed that if I could conceive it, I could achieve it. Of course, there have been the ill-suited fears that have lurked in my imagination as well, but I've tried not to surrender to those false and counterproductive thoughts. I've tried not to let, as the Zen masters say, let my "monkey mind" rule me. Rather, I've always believed that my mental projection could create the future. Consider that notion for a minute. If you expect something to happen, it most often does. And if that's true, the only logical conclusion is that it's downright stupid and self-destructive to keep infecting your imagination with pictures of loss and failure, doom and gloom, fear and loathing. The far more sensible approach is to expect blessings. On that note, life is good, especially today.

The desert, freshened a bit by the rain.

Somewhere, according to the legend, there's gold in them hills.

My bunny looks like and eager prospector.

Selfie of the day.

Maybe the coyotes know where the gold is.

The treasure trail split the gap at the base of the mountain.

At day's end, another glorious gift set in the West.