Mount Hopkins

It was just Bill, Steve and me on this strenuous loop hike. We hadn’t been together in almost a year when we hiked San Jose Peak in Mexico.

This hike was in the Santa Rita mountains, a small skyisland south of Tucson. Mount Wrightson is the prominent peak, and the destination for most hikers who come to this hiking and birding paradise.

We started promptly at 8:15am in the cool shade of the mountain. A half hour later I took off my fleece jacket. And boy, was it steep! It was steep going up to Mount Hopkins and it was steep going down. I have been back home for two hours and can already feel my calves tightening. I wasn’t expecting to have trouble going up the mountain today, after all the peaks I have been bagging lately.

Bill led the way. It was uphill from the start. We started at the Old Baldy trailhead, hiking west as the Old Baldy trail took a sharp left to the north and continued uphill on the Carrie Nationa Trail which officially ended 1.5 miles later near an abandoned mine. Here the trail narrowed and continued uphill along a narrow, rocky dry creek. This was strenuous but pretty terrain, but where exactly where we? I would have been lost without Bill at this point, as we took a sharp right toward the Hopkins telescopes. There were too many trails converging from too many directions and had no major landmarks to orientate ourselves by.

We came across a lot of bear scat, some of it still fresh. Some of the piles were so big they resembled small mounds of red berries. Sadie didn’t catch the scent of any bears like she did in Wyoming this past summer. All we saw were a deer and a few squirrels. Red-tailed and Swainson hawks flew overhead, I spotted an interesting black-and-white moth struggling to stay alive, and heard a few raven. But we never saw any bear. I think Bill was hoping to see a few, like he did on his last hike here a few weeks ago.

The last mile was exposed along the Mount Hopkins Road as it winded up to the MMTO (Multiple Mirror Telescope Observatory ) and past the Observatory Ridge. By now I could feel my legs tire, and a yellow sign warning us of a “Very Steep Dangerous Road Ahead” was not to be taken lightly . It took us three hours to get to the upper picnic area before ascending the final 200 feet or so to the MMTO . The outside temperature registered 69 degrees.

Our views to the south were spectacular considering the haze. The Huachucas, Mules and Chiricahuas looked close and so did distant mountains in northern Sonora. Nogales spread out before us. When we looked more toward Phoenix, though, it was all dark smog. Picacho Peak was barely visible but you had to know what to look for.

The craggy peaks of Mounts Wrightson and Josephine were to our north. It didn’t look like Hopkins, at 8559 feet high, was the second-highest peak in the Santa Ritas. Like Bill told me, Hopkins is the second most PROMINET peak in the range, as there are many other peaks around Wrightson that tower over 9000'.

We never came across another hiker here. All the buildings were shut for the day. There were no workers at the telescopes, which spread immediately below us along the single-lane Mount Hopkins Road that snakes down to the valley for 13 miles. I had no idea that the Mount Hopkins telescopes were so massive; it’s no wonder they were the Forest Service’s primary concern during the 2005 Florida fire. The Smithsonian Institute and the University of Arizona both conduct research here, primarily in solar system, galactic and extragalactic astronomy. The mirrors in the MMTO are 21.5feet tall. That I would have enjoyed seeing!

The highest peak for us were the views around the MMTO, a rotating telescope open to the public but which today was a locked-up white metal building on the peak. No one was there to give us a quick tour, so we gazed around the panorama and then descended via a bushwhack down a steep but shaded hillside until we slipped and slided on thick layers of pine needles and soft dirt back to the Agua Caliente Saddle. Here the sign was misspelled as “Auga Caliente” and we still had 2.6 miles to go to the parking lot.

“It gets steep here!” said Bill as we reached the “Very Steep Vault Mine Trail”. He didn’t have to tell me, I could feel my knees give way. Oddly, at one point my knees just collapsed and I fell straight down, but was able to get right back up without the guys noticing. If Steve’s knees were rubber, as he described them, what were mine? Jelly?

This Very Steep Trail was so steep, descending 1,400 feet in a distance of a little over one half mile, that I was only too glad to at least be going down rather than up. One had to watch the trail carefully along this stretch. This trail stayed steep until it leveled off at the very dried-up Madera Creek, which we followed back to the parking lot.

Luckily no one took a bad fall although Steve made a perfect butt fall. Bill guided us down like he had been doing this for years. And, in fact, he has been on this loop trail several times. Without his help we never would have found the right switchbacks around Mount Hopkins as so many trails remain unmarked.

I liked the remoteness of this hike. Most hikers who come to Madera Canyon come here to hike up Mount Wrightson. We chose instead a more deserted trail, a perfect hike for an energetic dog.

Sadie stayed close to me and always stopped when I stopped to photograph a certain angle. She was off leash until we got back to the more crowded trails of Old Baldy. We were back at the parking lot at 2:40pm, chatted for 40 minutes in the parking lot, and left at 3:20.

I was back at the house shortly after 5pm, too tired to pass out Halloween candy. Kevin passed out candy this year, and he lucked out: our street this year was so dark from the many unoccupied homes that most families driving their kids around skipped our neighborhood. Last year I passed out three bowls of candy. This year we gave away half a bowl.

Another weekend

I've been busy all week working on college papers. I'm glad my work load otherwise was nill this week.

But just because I wasn't employed means I wasn't busy. Last night after a library visit I stopped to get bird seed for the wild birds outside, to help them with these morning freezes. They seem to appreciate the help. I hadn't fed the birds all summer as we had enough weed and grass seed to keep them going.

As for tomorrow's hike, what started out as a hike up Mount Wrightson seems to have changed to one up Mount Hopkins, a neighboring peak I've never been up. Apparently the majority didn't want to spend all day driving/hiking nor did anyone seem interested in bagging the peak. Although the temperatures are to warm up by later today, it will still be cooler than it was last week.

Either way, it's going to be an early reveille for me and a long day, but a well-deserved day as I got much done school-wise. Some hikers even complained of the early meet-up time and cancelled, so I don't even know for sure who's coming anymore.

Meanwhile, people in the Midwest are freezing. Colorado had its first major fall storm overnight. Brr. Which reminds me: I've opted to drive to Indiana for Cmas. Call me insane but I want to see Ethan again. The dogs will stay home this time. I don't want any of them to suffer in blustery cold temperatures.

___

Snowstorm blasts Colorado, Wyoming; delays flights

By IVAN MORENO, Associated Press Writer Ivan Moreno, Associated Press Writer – 2 hrs

DENVER – An early blast of winter walloped some western states with deep snow and slowly pushed into Nebraska and Kansas Thursday, bringing blizzard conditions to the eastern plains and causing treacherous roads, closed schools and hundreds of canceled flights.

The fall storm spread 3 feet of snow and left much higher drifts across parts of northern Utah, Wyoming and Colorado, before its leading edge hit neighboring states just to the east.

Wind-driven snow built to blizzard conditions over much of eastern Colorado. The weather service warned most area roads would be impassible Thursday night because of blowing snow and near-zero visibility.

The heaviest October snowfall in the Denver area in a decade forced the closure of hundreds of schools and businesses. Roads across the region remained snowpacked and icy.

"Big storms like these, they seem to come around every 10 to 12 years," said Kyle Fredin, a National Weather Service meteorologist.

Our first winter storm

Winds howled all night long. I could hear things bump in the night. When I toured the yards after sunrise I picked up six dead palm fronds (always a good thing!) and rearranged some garden stuff that had gotten strewn around, but otherwise was pleased that there was no real damage anywhere.

I even called Linda to make sure she was OK; she replied that they had left the campsite yesterday and got a hotel room in Payson. I'm glad they are safe.

We didn't get any snow in the peaks although there's dark grey fog over the summits so perhaps there is some up there. We got some cold rain overnight but the temperatures didn't dip that badly. It was 45F at 6am. The wind is still howling and it's "warmed up" to 48F. It won't get much warmer than that today, but it will warm up some more before Saturday when I am hiking up Mount Wrightson with Steve and Bill. I sure hope I'm not biting off more than I can chew. That mountain can be relentless in stormy weather. If there is snow there then I'm probably leaving Sadie at home.

It's hunting season!

I totally forgot about deer hunting season when I took all three dogs for a walk in Hunter Canyon. I guess the name of the canyon should have been a hint, eh?

Although there was no one hunting, the dogs let me know it was hunting season when both Sadie and then Sammy sat on the ground and began chewing on discarded deer legs near our turn-around point.

Mmm, deer legs! They make great dog treats! They are so tasty even Sammy growled at me when I tried to get the leg out his mouth. He wanted none of that, and he certainly wasn't about to share his treat with his packmates. And Sara somehow managed to steal Sadie's find, leaving one dog out of the loop.

At least the hunters could have been nice enough to leave at least three legs behind!

The chewed-up deer legs ended up going home with us. I'm sure there isn't much left of the legs and whatever there is still remaining will be picked up the next time I de-shit the backyard.

Leaves haven't been falling much, but right now I hear the wind picking up outside. I covered the strawberries with oak leaves for tomorrow's first frost.

The Verde River Canyon

Despite my late-night visitor, I went back to sleep shortly thereafter. At 4:45am Mike came by to knock on my window and this time I thought it was Tommie again and yelled at him to go away. Sadie growled and then barked, but then I realized who it was and apologized. Mike had come by to wake me up for coffee and an early hike to the hot springs.

And brr, was it cold out! I quickly doned my overclothes, jeans and two shirts, drank the coffee and hiked out to the hotsprings via the old road. Linda and Mike led the way.

This trail was a lot easier than yesterday's river crossings and by now Sadie was comfortable following us, despite the limited visibility. She even crossed the river and sat by the hotsprings.

We didn't have much time left to enjoy the fading starlight above. Venus rose to our east and the sun's early reds and pinks were rising on the other side. I was comfortable in the warm water.

Today turned out to be more cloudy than yesterday, a better day to hike up an exposed ridgeline.

And no one came by to bother us. I was expecting a morning crowd after sunrise, but we saw no one other than a sleeping couple near the springs. Most of the campground was still quiet when we came back, and even Tommie who, surprise surprise, had his new space closer to us and was still asleep. That didn't bode well with me.

Realizing that I had lost my beloved Brooks top cool-max shirt I use for swimming, I went back to retrieve it. It was hanging forlorn on a mesquite tree off the main road. I grabbed it and power-walked back to the campsite. On my way back to Linda's site Tommie was wide awake and chatting with two other men.

"Sorry for waking you up last night. Thanks for not shooting at me!" he said sarcastically.
"You are lucky" I retorted and walked on.
"Hey babe (a name he calls all women), come back here!" but I trekked on. Tommie was smart enough not to follow me back to Linda's place. By now I realized that I had better drive back home Sunday afternoon rather than at sunrise Monday morning, just to get away from him. My goal was to leave at 3am to get back home by 9pm.

After another delicious breakfast we drove to a trailhead three miles up the road, with spectacular views of the Verde River below. I was completely packed for a departure after this hike, never to see Tommie again.

The Verde River Canyon It was all like a mini-Grand Canyon, with the river snaking below. We were walking on an ancient volcanic ridgeline covered with prickly pear, mesquite, barrel cactus and thorny bush. This wasn't the kind of vegetation that could sustain cattle or other livestock. There was very little shade.

We came across a radio tower which we used as a landmark and continued down the ridge for another hour. Fossil Creek, the original destination, was still at least three or four miles away over steep, inhospitable terrain. We only saw it from a distance and walked back the way we came back to my Escape. It was 2:50pm, on time, and when we reached the intersection to Verde River road, Mike and Linda were able to hitch a ride with an incoming pick-up back to their campsite. We bid farewell there.

The drive back to Strawberry on the same road I came in on took me 50 minutes for the 20 miles. I stopped twice along the river for photographs and to let Sadie take a drink, but once on US87 I stayed on the road toward Mesa, driving back the same way. There was more traffic everywhere this time, people driving home after a weekend outside.

Gasoline prices had jumped ten cents at some stations overnight. The Circle K in Payson went from $2.38 to $2.43; the one in Mesa went from $2.19 to $2.31. Prices in Tucson and Sierra Vista seemed untouched for now.

But what bothered me was seeing a wilfire burn near Mount Ord north of Mesa. When did that fire start? Had it been burning Friday night and I just didn't see it in the dark? (Wouldn't the fire have caught my attention?)

Sadie slept behind me as I drove home, stopping in Tucson to drop off the weekends' recyclable trash and to buy some more goodies at Trader Joe's. As planned, I had left most of what I bought Friday night with Mike and Linda (as thanks for inviting me) and bought more quick foods for me for the upcoming week.

I got home at around 10:30pm. Sara and Sammy ran up to greet me. Even Pache Boy joined in, happy to claw up my naked legs again to cuddle in my lap.

It's now been a day later. This morning I heard about 14 deaths in Afghanistan. That shook my senses as that news reminded me in a flashback of my misery in Iraq, when it wasn't unheard of to see 7-10 deaths a day across that godforsaken hellhole.

The Verde River hot springs

After stops in Tucson at Trader Joes, another stop in Mesa and a short stop in Payson, I arrived tired and road weary at Linda and Mike's campsite by 7:30am. The sun was just then rising over the arid mountain peaks and the cool shade gave way to rising temperatures.

I didn't hear them in their tents and assumed they were still sleeping, and went back to sleep until 9am when the sun shined on our faces, only to learn that Mike had left a note on his van door saying they had gotten up early to hit the hot springs, and to ask people at the campsite how to get to them.

The only person near the campsite that was awake was a man sleeping out in the open on a mat. He was more than happy to show me the way. Later did I discover that this man, "Tommie," was a professional con artist who survived by mooching food and beer off of campers and of targeting new arrivees like myself: about 6' tall and stocky, this man wore a perpetual smile, yet his eyes wandered, as if constantly scoping out the area. I guessed him to be in his late 30s, early 40s.

His campsite was below Linda's and near the water, where I took Sadie to for a drink. Our presence awakened Tommie and he immediately jumped at his opportunity to feel me out. When I asked him where the hot springs where, he told me he'd gladly show me the way.

Charming and sporting whiskers and wearing a large dark-green flannel shirt over black spandex pants, Tommie told me of his earlier days "following bands" and doing his share of drugs and alcohol. A drifter at heart, he travels all over the country, where ever his heart takes him. He makes money selling his jewelry and other handy talents. But where ever he went he seemed to have his collection of female friends, who all became "girlfriends" the longer he talked. He even had a meth-addicted girlfriend in Sierra Vista he had stayed with earlier this year.

He took me on a scenic trail along the Verde. We had to cross the river three times. Sadie refused to cross over on her own.

"Let me take her. I've trained three rottweilers" and bygawd, he grabbed Sadie by the leash and she followed him without a whimper. Although he had to keep on grabbing her for the other fordings, she refused the final crossing, a deeper and more swift crossing. She stayed on the opposite bank while I tried out the hot springs.

There was one lone couple there with a small boy, who left shortly after we got there. A few minutes later a large group of eight people and then four more later showed up. This crowd helped me get away from Tommie, who continued to assess the crowd.

"OK, which one of you works for the police department?" he asked the crowd, and one woman looked at him, smiled, and another one replied "I'm off duty here." Everyone in the pool wore clothes. Rightfully so.

Tommie went downhill from here and I was looking for a way out. He talked about his stash of weed in his blue backpack, the backpack he guarded with his life and carried around with him "to keep the forest service off his trail."

Linda and Mike had already left the hot springs, probably just before I arrived there at around 10am. I saw how Tommie got a young man to give him the last of his PBR stash (who drinks beer that early in the morning?) despite the man's obvious discomfort. While Tommie decided to throw out his fishing reel, I decided to explore the trail leading west along the ruins of the old Verde Hot Springs hotel that had burned down in 1962. Sadie watched from across the river, and as soon as she saw me walk away she followed me. I ended up crossing the river at a brisk but shallow and narrow stretch.

But Tommie had spotted me leave. We ended up walking back the same trail but when he wanted to fish some more, I bolted.

"I came here to visit my friends!" I said, and wanted to hook up with them. Tommie had surely preferred I spend the day with him hiking some back roads. The more he talked, the more his stories didn't seem believable.

My suspicions were realized when later Linda and Mike agreed that Tommie was a moocher and an alcoholic. "He came by for dinner last night" said Linda, "and he was all over me!" Tommie seemed to have a liking for Linda.

A few hours later I saw Tommie chatting with a small group of women. He was drinking their beer and they looked helpless, too.

"Casanova of the Open Road" I mused. If Tommie ever decides to write a book about his drifting conquests, that's the title he should give it.

But now, by 11am, I had found my friends and wanted to share time with them. We chatted, ate leftover breakfast (I brought out my stash) and talked about Tommie and the guys he was hanging out with.

"Martin said that Tommie and his group are all alcoholics and mooch off of others." said Linda. Martin was a man who had hitched-hiked in with Tommie but who left a day earlier.

After our late breakfast we hiked along the Verde River in the other direction, bushwhacking through thorny brush, mesquite and other flora. Sadie was by now comfortable crossing the river, thanks to Tommie's strong influence. I was very proud of her by now as she showed less fear and more trust in me.

We turned around at 3:20pm and made it to the campsite with enough sunlight to get dinner ready, an array of home-grown veggies from their garden. I brought out the Trader Joe's beer and shared, although I had my two beers and continued with water to get rid of my dehydration-induced headache. Just then Tommie strolled into the campsite again, sat down near us but left when he saw no food around. Our beer bottles were empty and the food eaten.

We were up until almost 9pm. It was getting chilly by then and I was tired. Linda and Mike both told me stories of "Old Sam," an elderly gentleman they had met who lives along the Verde River a few miles upstream from the hotsprings. Old Sam considers himself the guardian of the hotsprings and walks to the springs every day with his six red tick hounds, making sure people are not vandalizing the area or trashing it any more than it already is. Old Sam sounds like a man I'd love to meet.

We all went into our respective sleeping quarters for the night shortly after the last words were spoken. We were tired.

I made the mistake of leaving my car door unlocked, thinking that being next to Linda and Mike's tent that I'd be safe. Wrong. At 12:25am Tommie came by and opened my car door. I was fast asleep. He was clearly drunk.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I asked him, once I realized who he was (he was wearing a Forest Service Ranger hat that had me initially thinking he was a bona fide forest ranger). Forest Service rangers, however, do not open peoples' car doors; they instead knock on the window and shine their lights on you.

Surprised, and with Sadie barking profusely, Tommie got the hint.
"Will you quiet your dog down?" he then asked, rather annoyed.
"No, I'm not!" I answered back kurtly, praising Sadie for being on my side. No wonder he asked me earlier in the day if Sadie was an attack dog and if I had a weapon on me. And even though I had had my pistol by my side before going to bed, I was too disoriented to grab it right away. Some help that pistol was! But, in Tommie's defense, he had not touched me in away way for me to claim self defense. He clearly knew his boundaries but he did try to strech them out.

(The top photograph with Sadie shows Tommie in the background. I don't normally publish photos of people without their permission, but I think campers should be aware of this man)

Heading up to Fossil Creek

Although my departure is still at least two hours away, I'm heading up North with Sadie to meet up with Linda and Mike from IN. They called last night with information on the campground; I'll be there early tomorrow morning.

When I leave tonight I'll make it to the north side of PHX and will camp in the national forest. The rest of the drive at sunrise is another two hours. By 9am we will make it to the Fossil Creek trail and back and enjoy a good day together, with a campout and another hike Sunday morning before we head back. Linda and Mike will stay a few more days before driving back to Indiana.

Fossil Creek was once closed to the public when the Childs Nuclear Power plant was in operation, but that thing was torn down in 2005 and the creek restored to its more natural beauty. However, with more city people comes more trash, more crime, more drugs and the forest service is busy arresting people.

"Bring protection!" told me Donna on my Facebook this morning. I may just do that.

There's also an area known for its "clothin optional" attire. I'll let Sadie romp in the nude, but I'll be my more Puritan self. I'd hate to piss off the Mormon men out there for a peek...

Carr Peak in October

I woke up feeling so tired after yesterday's Bisbee Stair Climb, but once at the lower trailhead parking area met Big Steve and Paul and off we were to drive the six miles to the 6800' upper parking area. It was 60F at 7am but it had warmed somewhat an hour later and 4000' higher. I wore blue shorts and felt fine. I never needed to done my windbreaker.

This was a crowded hike! An army family of five were just ahead of us in the parking lot, and they met us 10 minutes after we got to the peak. On the way down we met nine more people.

The aspens were already passed the prime. The yellows and oranges we saw from the upper campground were maples, elms and some oaks. The wildflowers from last month were long gone and the dried and brittle stems and seedheads were all that remained.

There was no breeze at the peak, and it was there that I told both guys that I'm going to try to hike this peak once a month and record the monthly changes of the mountain. Last month we had the colorful wildflowers. This time we heard the hawks soaring above us, chased by smaller birds. What will next month bring? Cool winds, bald trees and more raptors? I guess I'll find out! Perhaps I'll hike up Carr on Thanksgiving weekend, after stuffing ourselves in Bisbee at the Grand Hotel.

The army husband we met at the peak was an avid Grand Canyon hiker, doing the Rim-to-Rim at least four times a year. "We use this trail as a training hike, starting at the Mesquite Inn off the highway at 5am" he told us.
"Wow, that's a long hike!" I replied. "Don't you encounter illegals that early?" Hiking from the Mesquite Inn steak restaurant to Carr Peak and back is 26 miles!
"Oh yes, we hike with our guns!" he answered. "Last time we hiked that route we encountered a few bears, we almost shot them," he added.

As we rounded back down to the Carr trail, we could see and hear a USBP helicopter hovering along the Crest Trail and the Lutz Saddle, about three miles to our south. Had the Border Patrol discovered a group of drug smugglers? The helicopter hovered for quite a while. When we hiked up Miller Peak a few weeks ago, we came across a large Mexican campsite full of discarded effects, so we know that that saddle is a popular resting stop for illegal border crossers before they head downhill to the east where vehicles pick them up and speed through town.

When we got back to the car we noticed that the army family's license plate was personalized with something similar to the Grand Canyon's most popular trail.
And here I haven't even SEEN the Grand Canyon since the early 1990s...that man put me to shame.

Sadie was by my side the entire time, at her best behavior until we encountered a few other hikers with unleashed dogs. I had to hold her back as she pulled on the leash, but she always forgot the other canines once we got out of sight.

We were back at our cars shortly after noon, and I was back home an hour later, stopping at the feed store for more Eukanuba Wild Turkey for the dogs. Debbie, Sadie's breeder was working today, and we always chat when we are there. Sadie seems to remember Debbie.

There's a CAT5 Hurricane moving north along Mexico's central coast. Forecasters are saying it should reach the southern tip of Baja California tomorrow afternoon. We may get rains from this storm later next week. Last night we had a short t-storm from frontal clouds from this storm, and once again, as I look out toward our northern windows, see more lightning. Will we get more overnight rain? We sure could use this rain, but I hope next weekend is dry as I am still planning on meeting Linda and Mike in the Fossil Creek area for a Saturday hike.

Bisbee, AZ

I finally got Kevin out of the house today. After we both spent the morning studying for our classes we drove to this mining town for a short walk around the historic town with Sadie in tow. Unfortunately, the Grand Hotel no longer allows "well-behaved dogs" in its bar so Sadie had to spend two hours in Essie with her water bowl. Had I known about the new dog-ban, I would have kept her at home where at least she had her freedom.

But ooh, how I love Bisbee! Of all the towns in southeastern Arizona, it's the one I love taking tourists to.

We didn't walk far and we didn't walk for long, just up and down Main Street and up Brewery Gulch toward the Stock Exchange Saloon. (Kevin told me the owner, David Harvan, was in a serious car accident several weeks ago that caused the death of the driver and left David still injured). Sadie pulled on her leash the entire time, insisting on smelling all the odors of building corners and weeds.

Several businesses have shuttered since our last trip to Bisbee. Mexico Lindo's Old Bisbee restaurant is closed and a BBQ joint is in its place. Art galleries have opened and a few other vendors are now in town, but I personally never go to Bisbee for the art shops. I go to walk around the crumbly town, hike the stairs,enjoy the views and to meet people at the Grand Hotel Saloon.

Although my love affair with Bisbee is over, thanks to the tortuous days with the schools in town, I still love the Old Bisbee aura. If only living there were affordable! Phelps-Dodge Mining Company still controls the infrastructure of Old Biz, and I don't want to be controlled by a mining company.

Once we got to the Grand Hotel, I was more interested in getting on the free WiFi than sitting at the bar, since our home internet connection has been down all week. Several of the clientele looked familiar. The bartender, Laura, recognized us but couldn't recall our names. Kevin talked briefly to a grey-haired main in a tie-dye shirt and wool skull cap, a man Kevin realized was a lot smarter than he looked. Yes, there are a lot of intelligent people in Bisbee. Three of my favorite instructors this semester live in Bisbee. I can see them gathering at a bar in town discussing the latest political affair over a cool micro-beer.

We told Laura we will be back at Thanksgiving and bring a side dish to the Hotel. The owners still cook an entire turkey meal for its customers and locals sign up for desserts and salads. We may do the same this year and enjoy the holiday with cool Bisbeeites. Maybe I could even organize a five-mile walk around town with the hiking club before our turkey meal?

Sadie waited patiently for us in Essie, but barely back on the road she had to go badly. I had barely pulled over along the San Pedro River and she darted off to poop. Poor girl probably had been holding it in for the two hours she waited for us in town!

Patagonia and the Arizona Trail

Weather today showed no sign of yesterday's rain. After an early-morning wake-up at 5:30am to have coffee and watch a President Grant video, I was off by 10:30am with a van loaded with recycables and an excited Sadie in the van. I don't think she's been with me in the van since the summer's roadtrip. The back was loaded with glass bottles, plastics, tin cans and cardboard; Sadie had to sit up front in the passenger seat.

The closest full-service recycling plant is in Patagonia, a pleasant but tiny town 20 miles north of Nogales and the Mexican border. It's 54 miles from our house along a designated "Scenic Route" on Highway 83, snaking around alluvial plains and historical markers.

I dropped off the recycables and then headed four miles south of town into the foothills and the trailhead for the Arizona Trail. We headed south, toward the Red Rock Canyon.

Although we never made it to the Red Rock Canyon five miles down the trail, it was nice being back here. I hadn't been on the AZ trail here since 2005 with Kevin. Very little looked familiar, though, and when I hit a wide wash couldn't find the trail. It was 90 minutes into the hike, Sadie looked tired, so I made this shady spot under a large cottonwood my turn-around spot.

The Canelo Hills here are scenic, although it's exposed and hot. Despite the cool-down of the low 80s, it was still very hot in the afternoon. The small mesquites along the trail looked dead without their leaves. Several manzanitas were already brown from death. Sotals, prickly pears and small herbs that looked like maple trees dotted the dry trail but the dominant colors were shades of brown and sand. I stopped three times each way to make sure Sadie had enough water. On the return trip she stayed behind me the entire time.

We saw no one and nothing. No cows, no raptors, no trash. Not even footprints in the sand. That is very odd, but perhaps that cold rain from yesterday kept illegals from crossing over.

Sadie rested in the van, legs stretched out, just like on the roadtrip, on the trip back home. She is such a blessing to have now for company. I'm grateful she's a part of my life.

A cold, gentle rain

A cold, gentle rain started falling this morning at 3am. It's been drizzling ever since. I didn't bother meeting for Brenda's hike at 7:30am as it was coming down hard then.

Instead, I cleaned up around the house a bit. It needs major attention. My internet is still out, Qwest won't help unless I get a techician out to check the lines for $85 (thanks, Qwest!) AND they want me to take off work for that. I told them I couldn't do that since I work on call as it is. Time is money and I can't afford to give any more time to Qwest. This is my third internet outage in the year I've had Qwest. None of the lines in the house work now.

No hike today means perhaps a hike tomorrow, just to get out, unless there's more rain forecasted. I have a lot of research to do, though, so I will be spending more time there to get some papers started.

Fall is here for real. With this rain comes a cold front, the cows are happy and so are the ranchers, and I lament the end of pleasant hiking weather. But perhaps the cool-weather vegetables will start growing.