Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Getting ready for California

Erin's visit kept me from getting my stuff ready for the JMT. All my gear and then some has been stashed in the dining room corner waiting to be inventoried and packed. I didn't even send off my resupply bucket to the Muir Trail Ranch until yesterday, sending it via Parcel Post for $13+ because the Priority Mail price of $25with the same delivery date (8 July) seemed steep.

My main concern now is: am I mentally ready? I don't feel so. But like Kevin said, Erin's visit distracted me. He thinks I am ready because he thinks I am in shape.

Today I am taking my Ford Escape to my auto shop to have the tacks in my tires removed. None of the tires deflated over the eight days the truck has been parked in the front. I just hope the tires hold up during the ten-mile drive into town!

I have a few other errands to get done in town as I realized that this is the last week I have to get ready for the 2010/11 school year. I need a new school badge, need to make other preparations for the year and get my other supplies in order. When I get back from California I will be jumping right into the classroom.

The July 4th holiday also starts this weekend, which was perhaps my biggest revelation yesterday. I had planned on driving up to Flagstaff to conquer Mount Humphries with Sadie. Now it looks like that area will get thunderstorms both Friday and Saturday. Should I risk the five-hour drive just to get washed out? Monsoonal clouds have been forming in the south these last few days, with isolated small showers across the San Pedro Valley, but we haven't had any decent rain yet. What has fallen so far has evaporated before hitting the ground. Hurricane Alex, however, promises to give us some relief by this weekend. It may be a soggy holiday weekend.

Monday, June 14, 2010

Tacks in Tires

Today was one of those lazy summer days I don't get enough of. I had a 7am pulmonary functions test at the health clinic, but once home at 8am I lay in bed reading In the Sun's House by Kurt Caswell, a memoir of a year teaching Navajo middle school students in Borrego Pass school. I remember seeing that school high on a hill as I drove through that reservation last summer, lost to the unsigned dirt roads I thought I would never get off of until I got on I-40 west of Grants, NM. It's a good book that I started late Saturday and which I should get done by tomorrow.

I could have finished the book today but I wanted to take advantage of the still-mild weather and take the dogs up Hunter and Ash Canyons for a quick romp. We hadn't been there in a few weeks and I figured the workday would keep most shooters away.

The dogs remembered their old stomping grounds. Sara lay in the muddy springs at both sites and got up both times covered in muck. (She doesn't know this, but I am reserving her bath for this Thursday, when the heatwave will be back.)

I stayed at both places a short time. Both places were empty and void of humans, although the brass shells at both sites were quite impressive. Other trash, however, was minimal. Somebody had come by and cleaned the area. Both canyons are popular with target shooters, border crossers...and the USBP.

As I was getting ready to drive on, though, I noticed a large amount of two-inch tacks across the trail. These were not placed on the road by accident, these were surely placed there for a purpose. To slow down the USBP? To piss off shooters? I picked all that I could find, but didn't realize until I got on the main dirt road that several tacks had already lodged into my tires. This was not a good place to have a flat tire! I noticed tacks in three of my tires. I drove slowly back to the highway and rumbled on home, the tires holding out but surely I'll have a flat or two before morning breaks.

It's a bit annoying to now have to make a special trip back to my favorite garage in town to get the tacks removed. Luckily my tires are guaranteed for life so hopefully this won't cost me too much to repair.

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Rock Creek Loop, Chiricahuas

























Distance: 7.56 miles
Starting elevation: 5900'
Highest elevation (Saulsbury Saddle) 7480'
Loop hike consisting of four trails: Turkey Pen, Rock Creek, Connector, Saulsbury.
Trail head: West Turkey Creek Campground
Hiking time: 6.5 hours

"This is one of the most beautiful trails I've been on in a long time" said Kevin near the end of this little-used and abandoned trail in the western Chiricahuas. This was Rod's hike today and there were only four of us plus Sadie: Rod, Cassie, Kevin and I. Weather was breezy and cool and perfect for this hike.

We hiked this trail loop in reverse. We parked at the eastern edge of the West Turkey Creek Campground. Sadie was beside herself with joy at going hiking, much to the amusement of Rod and Cassie. In fact, she was highly energized all day and would run between Kevin and me.

We started at a nondescript "Forest Trail" sign that led us to Turkey Pen Saddle with views toward Monte Vista Peak. There were many sawed-off tree stumps here; I was to read later that these stumps were from long ago and nearby residents cut down junipers to make fence posts out of them.

It was a gradual incline for the first two miles as we followed oak and fir-studded Rock Creek. We rested briefly at a large alligator juniper tree which once was the largest (in girth) alligator juniper in the Chiricahuas with a 30' girth. When a large branch broke off, however, the tree "shrank" to 22'.

The creek was dry at this end, and many other tributary creeks were also dry. However, in a heavy rain this creek would be a flash flood zone as dry creek beds were coming in all directions as we slowly walked uphill. This part of the forest didn't appear very thick. Many trees lay fallen over the trail, as if we were walking into a wind gap.

Rod had his reference book with him:
Hiking trails and wilderness routes of the Chiricahua Mountains, Coronado National Forest, Arizona by Cachor Taylor.
Published 1977 by Rainbow Expeditions, Tucson, AZ.

He showed me his weathered book, which barely had a front cover on it from excessive use. The old-style font was clearly that of the 1970s. No GPS, no coordinates were given and all photographs were in black and white. But the unique thing about this hike is that back in this 1977 edition the Rock Creek Trail was clearly described, and today we were walking on a trail that at times was hard to find due to creek bed erosion, landslides, felled trees and floodings.

And that is why this was such a pretty hike. There was no evidence of human destruction on this trail: no trash, no white toilet paper, no heavy trail erosion. We didn't even see any bear scat. The only animals we saw besides ants and swallowtails were pesky blue jays. I spotted one very dead fox off the Connector Trail though, badly decomposed. Its empty eye sockets stared right at me. Otherwise we were to ourselves as we climbed slowly uphill along the lush Rock Creek. We only lost the trail twice, but Rod was always able to find our way back to the abandoned trail.

After a heavy rain this trail would be lush with life. Today the trail was dry and thickly covered with pine needles.

The only truly steep part of this hike was the 3/4-mile Connector Trail which connected the Rock Creek Trail (which continues up to Rustler Peak Campground) to the Saulsbury Trail. This steep grade followed a steep gulch up to Saulsbury Saddle with few switchbacks. Some of the Douglas firs here showed signs of burn from the Rattlesnake Fire several years ago.

Kevin and I rested at the saddle, waiting for Rod and Cassie. Cassie, bless her heart, has trouble with steep grades and Rod stayed by her side. We had to wait for her a few times, never minding the breaks, and admired her for her persistence. The wind howled in all directions, making the pines roar rather than whisper as we sat there at the saddle in the shade.

We never saw any sign of the Horseshoe Fire burning on the eastern slopes of this mountain range. All trails east of the Crest Trail are closed now. The fire's containment date has been pushed back a month as the fire burns deeply and slowly. It's now grown to 2850 acres. However, with today's 35mph winds I'm sure the fire will grow substantially this weekend. The heatwave will resume Wednesday.

Once we crested the saddle it was all downhill as the Saulsbury Trail now followed another creek almost straight down with few switchbacks. This trail was better maintained. The lower in elevation we got, the wider the trail became.

The only trailhead sign I saw was at the start of Saulsbury (or "Saulsberry" as one sign wrote it) Trail. The Rock Creek Trail was also mentioned, although there was no sign for it at the saddle where the Connector Trail led hikers to it. Newcomers to this area would never have found the trail.

None of this area looked familiar to me until we came up to cabins and crossed a creek. Here is where we had hiked in the fall of 2005 when I led Kevin, Sara and Sammy and I from this trailhead up to the Crest Trail and Chiricahua Peak. The 12-mile hike turned into a 14+ mile hike because the trail I had chosen to take going back down had gotten washed away in a steep landslide. We arrived at the truck exhausted and dangerously dehydrated; both dogs' tongues were a deep red. Had it been that long since we were in this pretty area?

We got back to the cars at 3:30pm, said our good-byes and went our separate ways. I took off first. Six miles west on Turkey Creek Road we passed a USBP agent on the north side of the road with five very tired and dusty Mexicans. "Looks like they missed their pick-up point" said Kevin. Indeed this road would not be very conducive to a pick-up; there is only one way out and that's driving west toward Highway 191.

A half-mile further we passed a small parked convoy of USBP vehicles behind a large SUV with Missouri plates. Had those Mexicans been pulled over for speeding and got caught with a stolen vehicle, and then took off running? We slowed down, let the agents peak inside our truck, and drove on. A large SUV has room for 15 people! Perhaps the agents were looking for the escapees.

Winds persisted in the valley as we headed back home, stopping in Bisbee at Santiago's for dinner, where I caught a glimpse of the USA-England World Cup game (a tie!) and more horrific news of the deadly flash flood yesterday in Arkansas' Ouachita National Forest. It's a part of the state I've always wanted to explore.

We arrived home by 7pm to two very happy dogs. Sadie went to bed with Kevin shortly thereafter.

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Finding a long-lost friend



We are in a heatwave with temps in the 100s by 1pm. I don't even bother walking the dogs until 30 minutes before sunset; the streets are otherwise too brutal for their paws. We stay at home and pant. The dogs don't want to go outside and neither does the cat. I do short jobs around the house, trying to create some order in this chaos. I have a garage full of boxes that haven't been unpacked in years. I'm finally going through the stuff.

This afternoon I came across my favorite hiking boots I've ever owned: a pair of brown Raichles (made in Switzerland) that I bought in 1993 when I was stationed in Augsburg, Germany. I paid $120 for them, which for me at the time was an expensive purchase. But after a few weeks of wearing these boots in, they became my favorite boot for hiking around southern Germany and then, when I got back to the US in 1996, around Chicagoland in the winter. Not once did I ever have cold or wet feet in those old boots.

I found my Raichles again while sorting through my army gear. The Raichles had been wrapped individually in paper inside a larger carton containing clothes. I immediately took them out, proudly showed them to Kevin, and began applying leather moisturizer to the boots, whose toe box is showing some sign of wear up front.

Maybe these will be the boots I wear in California next month? Are they still my tried and tested mountaineering boots from long ago?

I am finding other stuff as well: additional leashes, clothes from old street races I did in California, and purses and bag I sort of forgot about. I found an old pair of Precip Marmot rain pants and some other base layering clothes that will come in handy.

But nothing makes me as happy has having my Raichles in front of me.

"You have always spoken so well of those boots" said Kevin, as he watched me apply generous layers of leather lotion on them. And indeed, I don't think I've ever appreciated a pair of warm, dry boots as much as my old Raichles. Not even my old Gore-tex army boots came as close as keeping me dry as my Raichles. I've bought many a pair of hiking boots since those first Raichles, but none have even come close to comfort as those.

(Raichle was bought out by Mammut recently, another Swiss brand. The shoes are now made in Romania, Europe's answer to China.)

Saturday, June 5, 2010

Marshall Gulch and Wilderness of Rocks trail


















"Connie, get up!"

Those were the words that finally made me get up at 5:40am. I led this hike in the Catalinas, a slightly different route than the route I did two weeks ago. I changed the hike from a strenuous hike to a moderate hike over more level terrain, more shade trees and water for the dogs. It was going to be a record high in Tucson today and I needed a cool hike. This one fit the bill.

Kevin, however, opted out due to the heat. Apparently he wanted to enjoy it fullstrength in the valley instead, where temps in our town reached 99F.

Distance: 6.5 miles
Elevation 7200'-8000'
Out-and-back

I met the hiking group in Benson. Today newbies Cyndi and Jeff, along with their older chocolate Labrador Angel, joined us. They had recently moved here from San Diego and wanted to start hiking again. They did better than expected and I think they felt that way, too.

A bank marquee flashed 82F as we drove by it at 9am on Houghton Road in East Tuscon. The high temperature reached 104F.

We were all expecting a hard time finding parking spots at the trail head and indeed we got the last few as we arrived shortly before 10am. Where was everyone? The picnic tables were still void of human life so perhaps people were already on the trails enjoying some high-elevation relief. We got to the parking lot just in time!

We took the Marshall Gulch Trail that began near a set of bathrooms. This trail took a gradual incline up to the Marshall Gulch Saddle as it meandered along a shallow and rocky stream, around pines,firs and aspens. Most of this trail was salvaged from that deadly 2003 fire that left so many of the more higher-elevation trees dead and brittle. A singing group of young women were at the saddle and a few isolated couples were along the trail (most probably did the Aspen-Gulch loop) and once we got away from the crowds, we took the dogs off-leash. Sadie stayed right by my side the entire time.

Neither Sadie nor Angel fought with each other, or showed aggression to either. They acted like litter mates. The only time I saw Sadie snap at Angel was when Angel got too close to my backpack (which contained her beloved chicken jerky treats). Angel snapped at Sadie when Angel thought Sadie was going to steal her stick which Angel had just fetched from a watering hole.

We rested a lot and allowed the dogs ample time to cool off in the water. Angel, naturally was drawn to the water and would dive in, while Sadie only got her paws wet and remained at the water line.

At the saddle we resumed our hike on the Wilderness of Rock trail. This is where I was glad I had reconnoitered this two weeks ago, as I told the group we would walk another mile or so to the last viable watering hole, rest there, and return the way we came. This turned out to be ideal. According to Rod, we hiked 6.5 miles. The group, however, mocked my alleged statement that the turn-around point was "Just around the bend!" There were many "bends" in this hike.

At times the pace was slow, but the hotter it got the more I enjoyed the cool mountain breezes as we sat in the shade. We took almost an hour (!) for lunch, plus a few more stops for the dogs to cool off in the water, and to chat. Rod took off on his own to explore "Balanced Rock" while we remained at the creek. We all hiked back to the parking lot and due to personal plans, went our separate ways at 3:30pm.

Now the picnic areas were flocking with people cooking meals, kids running around and dogs chasing after them. Most Tucsonans most likely went to hike Sabino canyon as it's easier to get to. Summerhaven, the resort mountain town that has been rebuilt since the fire, was active with life but I didn't stop.

I didn't want to get back down into the hot valley so quickly. Instead I stopped at every pull-over to photograph the vistas. There's Thimble Rock, Molino Canyon, Hoodoo Canyon and all kinds of geological formations to admire along the way. When I hit the 5000' I felt the last of the cool breezes; when I got back down to 4000' it felt hot again.

I shopped at Trader Joe's when I got to Speedway Boulevard, perhaps my one staple shopping area in town. I had a late meal at Chuy's and again shared my chicken leftovers with Sadie who had to put up with waiting for me in a still-warm truck despite the windows all open.

There is no hike scheduled for next weekend and I'm having trouble coming up with a "cool" hike nearby. I'd love to visit the Chiricahuas but the fire that's still burning there may make breathing uncomfortable.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

The Chiricahua Horseshoe Fire














We drove a slightly different route driving back home: instead of using 1-10 all the way to Benson, we took the more scenic route along the Mexican border. Just before I-10 enters Arizona we veered south on NM90 into Portal, a two-lane road that hugs the eastern slopes of the Chiricahua.

"There's a fire up there!" said Kevin. Sure enough, high in the peaks we saw white smoke rising. Was this the same fire that was burning in this area well over three weeks ago?

When we approached the turn-off to Portal, AZ we saw a small tent village on the east side of the road. Then we spotted fire trucks and a small community of trailers, temper-tents and fold-down tables and chairs. It reminded me of the staging areas the US military uses in Kuwait. This was the actual Incident Command Post (ICP) combating this fire.

Except this place also had pink porta-pots.

We opted to stop and ask questions about this event. A liaison offer, agent Clawson, was glad to answer all our questions.

This is a new fire, he said, one that started about five days ago by humans. (Hmm, wanna bet illegals started this one again?). It's in the Horseshoe Canyon and thus called the Horseshoe Fire. Right now around 1800 acres are burning. "Before this is over I expect about 33,000 acres to burn, as it's high up in rugged terrain" Clawson added. Over 800 crew from across the Southwest, to include Oregon, Washington, Nevada are here working 12-16 hour shifts wearing about 40 pounds of fire-fighting gear. We didn't see any planes flying overhead, or anyone rushing out with another waterload. In fact, several fighters were relaxing under a canopy playing cards. Fighting fires is not easy and they deserve breaks. They have plenty of food and water keeping them healthy.

An attendant inside the Desert Museum, next door to the ICP, told me the fire is in very brittle shrubbery so dry it "needed to burn." "I haven't seen that area burn in 20 years." The area around Horseshoe Canyon, however, is a renowned birding area and of high priority for the fire fighters.

Thus our drive home was colored not so much with the usual USBP vans and trucks along this route, but Forest Service and area fire fighting vehicles along the road. Fifteen miles from the ICP is where the rancher Rob Kentz was murdered by Mexican drug traffickers about two months ago.

"This is not a very safe area" added Clawson before we thanked his crew for their efforts and drove on.

http://www.inciweb.org/incident/1966/

http://www.svherald.com/content/news/2010/05/29/horseshoe-fire-grows-yellow-jacket-fire-nearly-controlled

Silver City, NM
















(continued from previous post)

My truck was still in the same place where we had left it, only dustier from cars that had come and gone in the five days we left it off the trail head parking area. Fears of a flat tire or broken-in window were unfounded.

The only trouble we had was finding a radio station. I left the scanner on until it finally stopped on AM570, a right-wing (of course!) talk radio station out of Las Cruces, NM: KSNM. And it was (of course!) the Rush "Triple-Chin" Limball show talking about Obama and his (of course!) many flaws and how he stands no chance of reelection. I kept the station on hoping Limball would mention any current news, but instead he ranted about John Edwards, who was news 18 months ago when his affair with a campaign aide became open.

And then Limball started conjecturing about Al and Tipper Gore's divorce, the former vice presidential couple during the Bill Clinton years. So now they were divorcing? Huh. Well, not quite. His conjecture was that they were divorcing because (of course!) Al had had an affair and just wait for that to be made public. The Gores have been married for 40 years. The possibility that Al had had an affair was, to Limball, news enough for him to rant about. Rush Limball has no authority on talking about divorce; that man's soon getting married for the fourth time to a much younger woman who frighteningly resembles right-wing pundit Ann Coulter, Kathryn Rogers. Florida, watch out for tidal waves.

This is why I can't take political talk radio from either political persuasion. It's all bullshit. And in Limball's case it's all based on half-truths and exaggerations that someone with little intellect can fall for.

I had to play around with the dial to get another station that brought on the 11am news. The only other radio station I found, as we got closer to Silver City, was a station playing the "Doctor Schlessinger Show." Now there's a woman who should "shack up with" Rush: they make such a complementary, compassionate couple. Her PhD in physiology somehow allows her to doil out ultra-conservative advice to ignorant radio listeners incapable of analysing their own lives. She didn't even speak to her own mother when she was alive and had numerous affairs while still married to her first husband.

Nothing drastic happened in our absence from the technological world except Joran van der Sloot, the 18-year-old Dutch playboy suspected of killing Natalee Halloway in 2005 in Aruba is now a suspect in the death of a Peruvian woman over the weekend, who was found dead in a hotel room surveillance cameras show was entered by both the woman and Joran early that morning. Hmm. This time Joran's prosecuting lawyer dad is no longer alive to bribe officials out of jail. (He died a few years ago from a heart attack at 58 years old.) There's now an arrest warrant for Joran. Could he be in Chile?

More dramatic, perhaps, was the shooting spree by a British cabbie in Whitehaven, England who killed 12 (!) people and injured another 25 by shooting at their faces, but not much more was reported on that.

That was all the news that happened in the last five days? I was hungry for more news. Had North Korea declared war on South Korea? Had Iranian president Achmad Amadinijad declared himself an insane homosexual sex pervert? Had a massive counter-offensive been declared in Afghanistan against US forces? That was the kind of stuff I was thirsting for and not some possible affair by Al Gore or the probable crimes committed by a Dutch psychopath.

The only surprise is that the month-old oil spill from a British Petrol (BP) platform that exploded in the Gulf of Mexico is STILL on-going. Oil is now heading toward the eastern shores of Florida. BP officials are still "working on this." What BP probably is hoping for is to get bailed out by our government so that they can declare another quarter of profits for the company. This oil spill is already heading toward the largest environmental disaster started by an oil company in the world. Thanks, BP. Now Americans are going to have to pay for this clean-up and we can barely pay for our daily needs without another few billion added to our $3 trillion deficit. Now I have to boycott BP with Exxon...

Enough ranting.

I had forgotten about the one-hour time change between Arizona and New Mexico. When we got back to the trail head my watch read 9:14am, so really it was 10:14am, and we still had a 90-minute drive to Silver City over the dry foothills and desert of central-western New Mexico.

I like this old mining town. It's the only decent town in SW New Mexico that offers any true culture. It's a great little town to stock up on food supplies before or after hitting the wilderness. Kevin wanted to go back to Jalisco's and that's what we did, after a quick dtour to a local grocery store for dog food, which Sadie ended up not eating.

The store was crowded with Super Seniors moving SuperSlow down the aisles, fighting over-loaded stocking dollies and people gathering to chat. I was glad to get out of that place.

We drove to Jalisco's and was greeted to a busy place again. Vanessa again was our server although she didn't seem to recognize us. "I'm here every day!" she told us. We ordered the same dish: red chicken burritos. I had an iced tea with my meal, Kevin ordered a Diet Pepsi. The cold drink tasted so good!

The town wasn't quite so crowded this time around, as the Blues Festival patrons from the previous weekend had all left. I recognized some of the same cars and their bumper stickers ("Obamanos!"; "Life takes its Toll: Please Have Exact Change!") as we walked up and down the main drag, Bullard Street. Even the same shaggy dog from Friday rested under the same canopy of a housewares store. Doggy water bowls were along the store fronts and people of all ages gathered here and there in all kinds of attire from golf course chic to hippie-dippie anti-soap, mingling around town in slow-motion like a movie film played below the recommended speed.

Kevin stopped in a used book store, I wandered a few side streets to look at the colorful architecture. People everywhere were in no hurry to go anywhere. It was a Wednesday and no deadlines were looming. Traffic was quiet.

We didn't stop in for coffee or beer anywhere. By now we were ready to head home and unpack. The sooner we left, the more comfortable our ride, as my Ford's air conditioner doesn't work and we have to drive with the windows down for ventilation.

The ironic thing is that once back at the truck, we spotted a sedan of local State Representative (R), Diane Hamilton, parked in the clearly yellow zone in front of Jalisco's. Was this really necessary? There were open spots in front of my truck. Even more embarrassing to me is that the front windshield had a Department of Defense sticker. The front license plate also sported the Marine Corps' Semper Fidelis logo. Not good for public relations, but great advertisement for Jalisco's. Oh, if only Rush Limball got ahold of his fellow Republicans! Parking in a yellow zone is certainly no major crime, but something pundits like to build into major topics. I don't know Hamilton. She may be a great representative for New Mexico, but this parking gaff is a bit embarrassing.

The Gila River Trail
















Our five-day trip into the Gila Wilderness was all Kevin's planning. He planned where we ate for lunch in Silver City, where we hiked, and when we camped for the night. For the first time I did none of the planning. It was five days of rest and relaxation I haven't had in years. He planned everything greatly. He chose the Gila River Trail from the Falcon series "Hikes in the Gila Wilderness." The guide, which rates this trail as "strenuous" due to the length, also mentioned the "numerous" river crossings. This was no joke. We did about eight miles up this 34-mile trail.

"It's nice to finally have the money for this" he said one night during our trip.

We brought all separate gear as this trip was also to test out the tent, sleeping bag, clothing and cooking set that I will be taking with me during the three-week backpacking adventure along the JMT next month. (Everything worked out greatly! The Big Agnes tent is awesome and the GSI Soloist pot with Brunton stove a super-lightweight ensemble.)

We left Friday morning at 7:20am, after an early reveille which prompted me to deep-soak the garden and walk the dogs before sunrise. We stopped in Huachuca City to eat breakfast at Sunny D's and then were on our way.

A massive eastbound semi tractor-trailor had overturned and spilled its cargo of Spanish onions along Interstate 10 just east of Benson. But other than that, we had an easy drive to our destination.

But before we hit our trailhead, Kevin wanted to stop in Silver City and eat at Jalisco's Cafe in downtown, on Bullard Street. Some co-workers recommended the place. He ate red chicken burritos, I had green chicken enchiladas. Both plates were delicious, but I didn't finish it all and took my left-overs to go, just as I had my breakfast.

We drove north on Hwy180 to the small community of Gila, then turned east on NM211 and then FR253 which dead-ends at the river.

We arrived at the trailhead to the Gila River trail at 2:20pm. A few holiday relevers were already recreating in the water and we parked slightly off the dirt road.

I started the hike carrying a plastic bag containing my leftover breakfast and lunch meals...no easy feat while fording a creek that at times got up to my knees. I didn't want to waste the food and I'm glad I took it along, as I ended up short one breakfast meal.

The time out in the wilderness was heaven. We met a few kayakers and canoers the first day. One group seemed to be a family of five, all steering separate boats. The kid told us they had been on the river for five days, averaging about ten miles a day. A few days later we met two more men who had managed the river from its source 34 miles upstream, and on the second day we passed a small group of campers, but we were mostly to ourselves. We were not bothered by screams, boom-box music or barking dogs.

Cans of BudLite and Keystone Lite littered the banks along the first two miles. Memorial Day weekend had already started here, but the further away from the main trail head we hiked, the cleaner the trail became.

The Gila River Trail is no easy trail to follow as the low points have been washed away from monsoonal floods and erosion. The hardest part was finding the trail after fording the river; cairns weren't always visible and the blazes were intermittently carved on trees along the trail. Some of the prettiest sections of the trail were uphill and away from the river, as the single-track meandered along low ridges, past aligator junipers, oaks, sycamores, pines, firs, elms and ash trees.

The hard, dry clay along the river was hot for Sadie's paws. She'd run ahead of us and wait in whatever shade she could find. The prickly brush along the banks were laden with poison oak. I must admit I wasn't too impressed with the "trail" on that first day as it seemed to be mostly bushwhacking, and my legs were getting cut open by the catclaw acacia and bitten by carnivore flies the entire time.

A trekking pole for support through the creek was an absolute neccesity. Even three feet of water at times pulled me and I needed that third leg for support.

Sadie carried her own pack of food and treats and didn't seem to be slowed down by the added weight. And boy could that girl swim! She was fording the river with confidence by the time this adventure was over, beating Kevin and me across the water.

The river meandered past impressive granit cliffs, overhangs and steep banks. Bear prints and scat were everywhere, yet we never spotted a bear. Various birds, buterflies followed us along, but we didn't see much wildlife. Some of the cliffs were spattered with bird shit, but we didn't see or hear falcons or hawks. We did see ravens, vultures and cliff swallows.

That is, until sunset. We had a fullmoon on our first night under the stars and the frogs went crazy croaking lovesongs to each other. On the second night the moon was so bright it kept Kevin awake. But on the final night the sky was calm and the waning full moon didn't rise above the peaks until 3am, and I watched it crest high into the sky. A falling star added to the celestial beauty. The river seemed so tranquil last night, as it also seemed to take a rest from cascading downhill. When the sun arose every spider web in the trees glistened as they danced to the morning breeze. Early birds thrilled us with their song.

Kevin spotted a mountain lion gazing at us from above a cliff as we rested along the small slot canyon called Springs Canyon.

"I love this place" said Kevin. "I fell in love with it the first time we were here (September 2004)."

We hiked two days out, two days back. Weather was beautiful the entire time, with sunny blue skies every day and calm nights.

It wasn't a very long hike any day. We took our time and rested often. I think I had the bug the first day as my throat and back were sore and my nose kept running. I didn't have much energy. But by Day Three I felt energized and could have gone many more miles both days. Instead, we stopped after 3-4 hours, then rested at a campsite where we took out books to read while enjoying the scenery. (I read Barbara Tuchman's 1962 "The Guns of August" about the first month of WWI). When I tired of reading I closed my eyes and listened to the calls of nature around us.

For five days we had no cell phone, no internet, no radio. The world could have come to an end and we wouldn't have known it, although we both wondered what natural disaster, famous person, or next global conflict had started in our recluse from the technological world. We would get our answers on the drive home...