Carr Peak for November (Thanksgiving) with Sadie, Minnie and Zeke

Weather was forecasted to be warmer-than-normal so I made this morning my monthly climb up the peak. I took all three hiking dogs and that worked out well, as there was no one on the trail. There was no one anywhere! The people I did see were in the lower canyon, watching the sun rise from Carr Canyon Road. It was already 50F when I took off.

I left the house at 7:15am and made it to the trail head 30 minutes later. The rising sun blinded me a few times as I meandered up the road, but we made it to the trail head safely and took off at 7:50am from there. The dogs couldn't wait.

It was cool in the shade, but not very windy. I was quite surprised at how mild it was for late November. The sun was still struggling to get in the sky when I made it a mile up the trail. The cool air made the dogs go faster, so that I didn't need to stop as often for water breaks. The water fall was surprisingly frozen over, though! I stopped here for a water break for them, and trotted up. The only unique thing today was playing with the sun behind trees. Light, not color, was the theme.

All the flowers are now gone for the season. I saw a few hawks toward Miller Peak, but they stayed low as the wind was harsher the higher I got. I made it to the peak by 9:20, played fetch with the dogs for a bit, then went down. I wanted to be back home by 11am because we had plans to spend Thanksgiving in Bisbee. Kevin started the turkey early as I hiked the mountain.

The peak was breezy but not biting cold. I was lucky yet again choosing today to hike up the peak. I took a few selfies with the dogs, gave them their snacks (hot dogs) and left the peak 20 minutes later. This time I took no breaks whatsoever, just charged down the trail with the dogs behind me. I didn't even play fetch with Minnie because that just makes Sadie bark. I noticed what looked like the beginnings of a brush fire in Mexico, as smoke rose in white clouds and drifted into the atmosphere.

I managed to get back down to the truck in just under three hours. That's the best time in a while. I could have done it even faster had I not played with the dogs for a bit. I prefer to sit on top and meditate, and what better day than Thanksgiving in Arizona? People are rioting in Ferguson, MO and Oakland, CA, all because a white police officer killed a black unarmed teen.

People were now driving up the mountain as I was leaving it. So odd. I got the best time of the day, the entire peak all to myself and the dogs.

Cat on my lap

Pache decided to grace me with his presence when I left for the high school yesterday morning. Surely the cold weather brought him back for some warmth, so I picked him up at the front door and carried him to the garage where he spent the day with Guinny and Bobby.

But Pache doesn't like the cold garage. When the back door is closed and he can't dart outside, he prefers to be with me, just as in the old days when my lap was his security blanket. Last night he sauntered into my messy office, mewed to me his royal presence, and jumped on my lap as if that were his entitlement. He then lay in a curled position dreaming of mice and birds as I held him close.

Cats make great lap warmers on cold nights and cold mornings. Pache doesn't purr (I never had a Siamese that purred), but he still shows his contentment as he kneads my legs, my chest, my back when he can get to it. I am no fool, though, and know the reason why Pache is so affectionate to me now is because he appreciates my warm lap, and how my fleshy thighs conform to his small body.

There is something therapeutic about having a cat on one's lap, though. As he lays there in his furry crescent shape, I subconsciously stroke his soft fur, gliding my fingers over old scabs or deeply-buried seed heads from desert flora. He likes that. He stretches his body out to let me get to his abdomen, although he does hiss at me if I pet him right below his ribs and for a weak moment turns into the Cat from Hell before resuming his more innocent kitten-like demeanor. I am his owner and I am the only one he snuggles up with. Having his safely in my lap means he's not outside in danger of predators and other dangers.

I know that one day Pache won't be with me anymore. His deep desire to be a roaming outside cat concerns me. I never feel relaxed when he is outside. His insistence to be an outside cat bothers me. What did I do wrong to chase him away? Do we have too many other cats? Do the dogs annoy him? Is he simply too good for this house? I wish I knew the answer to his most secretive of feline desires.

Murray Springs toward the river

Susan had a hike planned along the Arizona trail, a 6-mile out-and-back route east of Tucson. I had never done this stretch. It follows part of the Cienega creek Nature Preseve. In the end decided I was not up to driving 50 miles for a short hike and ended up sleeping in. I wanted to take Sadie and Zeke somewhere, but I stayed local. I had other things I also had to do today.

After the morning usual of writing Amazon reviews, I finally got ready by noon. The dogs were on alert. I already had my shoes on, but the alert went out when they saw me grab my wallet, my camelback and the camera. By then they all went nuts, including Minnie who seemed quite rested from yesterday's exercise. I ended up taking her as well and drove back to the Murray Springs trail head by 1pm. There were no cars parked there this time. My objective was to walk the trail down to the first creek and walk along the creek bed to the San Pedro River. I never made it that far.

This area is a flood plain and after heavy rains, the creek bed collapses or creates a new flow through the sandy soft soil. The creek is cutting a narrow swath toward the river, with exposed tree roots that are well over 12 feet tall. A few areas looked freshly-collapsed. I wouldn't want to be hiking along the edges of the creek bed, but wildlife may not realize that when they are wanting to get to the water.

The overgrowth was all throughout the area, so that at times all I could see were tall weeds around me. It was windy today, and the sky had a bit of a haze. The dogs didn't care as they just wanted to run.

The Murray Springs trail ended at the official San Pedro River trail (which is a half-mile from the river!) at the first water crossing. From here I would follow the meandering creek for the rest of the way to the actual river, near an old bridge railing that is long gone. Remnants of railroad tracks are also here, created during the area's active mining era, but even the ledge is now overgrown with prickly mesquite trees, creosote and cat claw acacia. The creek bed was too overgrown with horsetail and swamp grass and wet, sinking sand along the edges. This was not good walking terrain. I saw several areas of collapsed banks.

I stayed in the area for a while to let the dogs run. It was cool enough to explore some of the side trails to ruins a half-mile away, but I wanted to be near the water. I spotted lots of quail hiding in the brush and a few raptors flying overhead, but not much else. Coyote scat was on the trail, but it didn't look like there was much human activity in the area. Indeed this is a rather flat, boring trail compared to any of the foothill paths, but at least the creek makes for a nice destination for energetic dogs, and our cooler weather makes the exposure tolerable. According to the trail sign, it's 1.6 miles one-way to the creek. We were back home by 3:30pm and had a chicken dinner soon thereafter.

Pomona Mine (Huachucas)

I have never been to the actual former tungsten mine in the ten years I have been hiking trails in this area. I came close a few times, to a level trail near the tailings, but never to the mine itself. A single-track mule trail leading not far from the tailings is the actual final ascent to the mine. Which means I was always .4 miles away whenever I hiked up to the mine. Abandoned mining equipment is all along this mule trail.
When Emily from the Sierra Vista Hikers hosted this hike for Saturday, I jumped in. There were five of us, and we all took this as a challenge to not just make it to the mine, but to the former helipad above the mine. This is definitely no hike for beginners due to the steep terrain that last mile.

We met at the Brown Canyon Ranch house parking lot at 8am. Eric S was first, then me, and Joe, Emily and Deb (with dogs Eva and Elliott respectively) and finally Nina at 8:10am. It was in the 30s and our hands were cold, but we warmed up as soon as the sun was high enough to warm the path. After a round of protective barks from all the dogs to one another, they quickly warmed up and ended up being good playmates all throughout the hike. Minnie was at her best behavior, even toward Elliott who loves to play fetch as much as Minnie does. We left the parking lot at 8:13am under clear blue skies.

Eric is a hiking club member so I knew him from years ago. I met Nina back in August and know she's trying to get back into shape after years of hiking in Alaska with her huskies. I met Emily, Deb and Joe this morning. They are a younger group in good physical condition, but at times they were too far ahead and I placed myself in the middle to make sure Nina could hold on.

We broke down into groups right away. Emily and Deb and their dogs were up front, Eric and I in the middle, and Joe and Nina in the rear. No one was left alone. The trail in Brown Canyon is a gradual uphill the first two miles, but quickly gains in elevation as soon as one intersects the Pomona Mine. Elevation here is 5500', the mine is at 7100' and we were above the mine where we turned around. There was water for the dogs in the upper Brown Canyon section, but lower drainages have now run dry for the season unless we get massive amounts of snow this winter. We'll never be like Buffalo, NY, which got seven feet of snow on Tuesday, but hopefully we will get something from this polar vortex making its rounds across the country.

No one brought a GPS along so we don't know the actual mileage of our hike. The Forest Service has this trail at 4.5 miles, but I know that it' at least two miles from the horse trough at the start of the Miller Peak Wilderness. I was concerned for Nina, who quickly showed discomfort on the steep mine trail. Here the trail is badly eroded from heavy rains, and the decomposed granite makes this a slippery hike going up or down. But views into the valley are worth it. It was only in the 60s today, so the cool air was a relief. In the summer this exposed trail can be brutal for both human and animal.

I enjoy these meetup events very much. They are open to spontaneity and freedom from any bylaws that some clubs insist on. I don't like planning hikes three months in advance, only to have to cancel because of inclement weather. But I'm also noticing that younger people are taking advantage of these 21st-century meet-up rules to be more careless as a group. A hike leader no longer is responsible for slower members, nor responsible for its welfare or safety. This means no first aid pack, no additional water, emergency blankets, or reliable communication. This concerns me. While Emily and Deb were in front most of the time, they showed no concern for Nina. That's where Joe stepped in and helped Nina go uphill, and later downhill, while Emily commented that she informed everyone that the hike was not for beginners and that Nina should have known better. How does one get better without a challenge? I can see her point of view, as slow members slow down the group and cause animosity between fast and slow hikers. Luckily Joe was there. If he had not been there, I would have been there for Nina. I ended up being the trail photographer again, agonizing over the slow uploads of my photos to the meetup site (Sierra Vista Hikers).

It took us three hours with a few stops to make it to the mine opening at 11:18am. There was some fascinating rock formations on the short but steep .4-mile long mule trail. The area clearly experienced severe upthrust to cause sedimentary rock to weave in wavy formations. Cactus and acacia now line these rocks. The trail along these rocks is now heavily overgrown with prickly shrubs that snag on clothing. Hard to believe that mules once drudged up and down this trail. Rock slides and other natural erosion wiped out most clues that this once was a very busy area.

The shade up there was cold, so I sought out what little sun shines here in the winter. I only wore one long-sleeved cool-max shirt and used my red Marmot jacket to keep warm. That jacket only came off when I was in the sun. We had our lunches here. Minnie got her two hot dogs that I packed for her, and a few treats, and I ate my blueberry bagel with sweet strawberry cream cheese. Nina always caught up, never gave up, but she never had time to relax and catch her breath like the rest of us. She seemed bothered by slowing us all down, but I'm glad she did not give up, nor feel discouraged.

The mine itself does not go far into the mountain. Deb and I went inside with the dogs and quickly came to the dark wall. Her flashlight illuminated some interesting and wet minerals, but the bugs scared us off. Nature is slowly growing up and around this mine, although the scaring on the surface will be here forever. No doubt, though, that the views here are spectacular. I could spot out the Brown Canyon waterfall, which from the mine looks like a simple fault in the exposed rock.

Eric knew of a trail to the saddle above the mine. We noticed a faint trail and went on it, soon finding the trail that also followed along the cable line. This cable provided for some hold as we got near the end, as it was steep here and very rocky. We soon came to the clearing where the helipad still lays, overgrown with pine and mesquite trees squeezing their trunks up through the opening. We spotted some abandoned mining equipment, but no evidence of wood cabins remain. We saw more military relics, though, mostly metal tent rings. I know that the US Army used the Huachucas as a training area for soldiers destined for Vietnam and had seven helipads all throughout these mountains. This helipad is now the fourth one I have seen, left to corrode with nature.

I had never been to this location before. It felt like a once-secret location no one could talk about. The saddle, which was once a clearing, now is surrounded by trees that prevent any vistas. Over a century before this was were the miners lived, in long-gone wooden shacks. I couldn't even find any house foundations. A few rusted barrels lay around the saddle, and in the woods near the mine was an old stove, but that was it. The volcanic rock at the saddle would make it difficult to camp out here in the open.

Eric mentioned a bushwhack up to Ramsey peak, a peak I've never been up on because the only way to the peak is via a thick bushwhack. No thanks! This is still a nice location for an overnight camp-out, with a bushwhack the next morning to higher peaks. But I saw no clue of other trails to and from this location. My recon ended with me enjoying the warmth of the sun and getting ready for the return hike. Nina took this short opportunity to sit and catch her breath. Several falcons flew overhead, perhaps curious about unusual human activity.

We went down the way we came up, again breaking up into two groups. Joe stayed with Nina and I was in the middle. Going downhill isn't easy. I worried about tripping and breaking my Canon 7D. Parts of the trail come right up to the edge of the cliff, so a tumble here would most likely be fatal. Even Emily at one point got into a crab position to avoid falling.

We met another older couple with the freshly-shorn Aussie Shepherd Gunner going uphill, and we stopped to chat with them. Gunner was a bit aggressive toward Elliott, and Minnie avoided him altogether. She rested in the shade with me. This hike had her exhausted before we even got back to the van, but she never showed the usual heavy panting like she does on my solo hikes with her. Perhaps the other dogs got her revved up. She stayed with me when Deb and Emily were up front. That's my girl.

We all wanted to get down this mountain as fast as possible. I was still hoping to make it to the lower waterfall to see the fall colors. They are best when the sun's shining into the trees, and not shaded by a waning sun. It was 2:15pm when I made it down to the intersection with the Brown Canyon trail. I waited for everyone to meet at the intersection to see what their plans were, as there had been talk to walk on and see the waterfall.

My hopes were quickly dashed. Both Emily and Deb just wanted to get back home, then Eric said the same thing (he'd been to the waterfall just a few weeks prior), and ten minutes later, when Nina and Joe made it, they, too, just wanted to get back home. There was no post-hike euphoria in this group! That disappointed me, but at least Nina had company so I went into the upper canyon with Minnie. I never feel alone when I have a dog or two with me. I made it to the waterfall in 15 minutes.

The colors weren't that dramatic. The sun was still shining in the upper canopies, but the maples were past their prime. Minnie was still full of energy when we climbed up to the now-dry waterfall. It was still trickling last month, but was dry now. The pool of water no longer dribbled downward, either, and dead dragonflies and other bugs floated on the surface. Minnie enjoyed cooling off her legs here before we returned to the trail to head back to our van.

Mountain bikers and trail runners were now out in full force, coming up from behind without warning. Not once did Minnie bark or growl. I took this opportunity to stop more for photographs, even coming upon a grave marker of a former homesteader, decorated with cross necklaces that glistened in the waning sunlight. This grave is surrounded by an iron wrought fence and part of the national forest.

The sun came back out one last time once I hit the open meadow near the ranch house. Seedheads from grass were now glistening in the sun and birds were coming out. There was lots of bear scat on the trail, yet I saw no wildlife other than birds today.

People were still visiting the ranch, so I stayed away from the group as one young family had a barky black dog. Minnie was tired by now and didn't seem to care to bark back, and collapsed in the van when we got back at 4pm. Nina was still waiting in her van. Hopefully she wasn't waiting on me? She still looked tired, but thanked me for pushing her along.

Murray Springs

After work at the high school I had time to rush home, grab the recyclables, and take four dogs with me so that after the dump stop at 2:30pm, I could take them all down the lonely path toward Murray springs near the San Pedro River. I had not been down this route since 2009. The grass was heavily overgrown and taller than me in sections. There were two other cars in the parking lot, so I kept my eyes open for other walkers in the area.

It was 2:50pm when I got to the trail head, and a van load of what looked like high school students were loading up to return to their school. Our high schools finish at 2:49pm and buses leave the campus at 3pm. I waited for the students to get into the van before I let the dogs out. I didn't bring leashes and didn't want any complications.

Murray Springs is not a very populated area to hike around. It's a level trail that goes west-east toward the San Pedro River. There are some ruins along the way, but I usually just go straight toward the river with the dogs and turn around, for a 4.4-mile level hike.

I had no plans on going that far with Sammy. He was fine with the .6-mile o/w hike. Once we got to the springs, he sat down and waited for the younger dogs to run off some energy. I was throwing a stick for Minnie, Sadie and Zeke to retrieve for me, but they seemed just as happy chasing each other in the marshy terrain. Most of the cottonwoods here have shed most of their leaves, except for a top canopy on the older trees.

The sky overhead was overcast, and it would have been a perfect day to hike up Carr Peak. It felt warmer than it should have been, but I am not complaining. We never got any rain, but the warmer-than-usual weather for today was fine. This gave me a chance to give all the dogs some running time. We were back at my van by 4pm and drove home.

El Pilar, Santa Ritas

I had never been to El Pilar, a set of craggy pillars in a hidden canyon of the Santa Ritas, until today. Weather was a little cooler and breezier than yesterday, but still a good day to get outside and hike the trails. I took Zeke along since he's an overall friendly dog, and with Susan M leading this hike, knew she'd have her dog as well.

I met the other hikers in Whetstone at the Mustang Corners Shell Station. It was Susan, MaryAnne, Jean, Rod, Steve S and Steve A. We drove in three separate cars. Steve S took off so fast, that Susan and I couldn't keep up and in the end Susan went to the opposite trailhead for Hog Canyon that was in the write-up. This delayed our start by an hour.

The dramatic clouds driving west toward Sonoita made for a promising hike. There was a ten percent chance of rain today. I was behind Susan on SR82, but passed her. Her friend Jean was driving around 52mph in a 65mph zone and slowing traffic behind her. Since I knew were Gardner Canyon was, I opted to drive there and wait for her where Gardner canyon starts off SR83. There is ample parking at that intersection. The only problem was, she never came. I waited ten minutes and even policed the trashy area while waiting for her. I didn't see Steve either. At 9am I drove west on Gardner Canyon road, now a dirt road, and then erroneously turned off north toward Kentucky Camp. I decided if I had lost the rest of the party, to just hike here with Zeke by myself. But then I got back on Gardner Canyon road, continued west, and saw Steve and his crew come toward me. They were still waiting on Susan and the other two women. Turns out Susan started at the opposite end of Hog canyon north of Palominas. We decided then to hike as two separate groups and meet up at El Pilar. We parked at the Hog Canyon trail head and walked the jeep trail for two miles, passing the stock pond before the trail was a single track and meandered along exposed ridge lines. The entire hike was unmarked. There are no trail signs showing the way!

On a hot day, this would be a grusome hike as there is no shade, but this is a beautiful hike under overcast skies. Rod was pointing out where high waters had crossed the trail back in late September when he last hiked this. Debris piles still litter trees along the now dry creek beds. I need to come back here during the next monsoon! But would I remember the way?

The stock pond provided Zeke some water, and again there was more water once we got to El Pilar, the landmark rock formation that was our hike destination. Susan, MaryAnne and Jean with heeler dog Sheila were already there, waiting on us and eating their lunch. MaryAnne kept her dog on a leash because Sheila doesn't like having her butt sniffed and didn't want the dog to bite Zeke. Zeke was just curious, and approached her with curiosity like any dog would. While Sadie and Minnie probably would have been more aggressive toward Sheila, Zeke was a true gentleman. That is why I brought Zeke on this hike, because he plays well with other dogs. Sadie and Minnie (and Sweetie) have taught him how to behave!

We all ate our lunch here and chatted. Susan and I talked about county animal shelters (she is a dog walker for Tombstone). I hope I can have her get more involved with county animal welfare, because our county shelters are underfunded, and some, like the Huachuca City animal shelter, face a town council that would rather not fund a money-sucking animal shelter anyway.

We didn't stay at El Pilar for long. I was enchanted by the place, though. There is a man-made cement dam on top of the rocks that hold water back, forming a pond above El Pilar. Overflow trickles down the rocks, over lush moss for a smaller retaining area below where we sat. This is an ideal place for wildlife to gather for water. Susan and her crew wanted to return the way we came. The rest of us wanted to explore some more along the creek bed in Adobe canyon. Rod had seen turtles here in September during the high water, but now there were only water pools in rock crevaces. I didn't have any more food for myself and still had water; as long as there was water for Zeke along the way, I was fine with the added mileage. The rock formations alone along this creek scramble were worth it. What beautiful, hidden country!

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Bassett Peak

Today I managed to get together with several diehard hikers from the hiking club to hike up Bassett Peak, a 7650' summit in the remote Galiuro mountains. The 11.8-mile r/t trail to this windy peak is popular with leaf peepers. Big Steve is back from his four-month contract in West Virginia, so he was there, along with Rod, John S and Steve A. I brought Zeke and Sadie along on this hike. Weather was ideal this time, and there was water running in the lower canyon. We met at 6:30 at the Fry's parking lot in town and off we drove in three vehicles. I drove myself due to the dogs.

The waning full moon was setting as we drove the final stretch into the canyon north of Willcox, the far northern edge of Cochise County. This is a three-hour drive but well worth it. We got to the trail head at 9am and as expected, other campers and hikers were there. The Southern Arizona Hiking Team does this hike every November, the ALT Hikers and a few other Tucsonans. Lots of younger people!

It's hard to gauge when prime colors come in this canyon, as it depends on what kind of late summer/autumn we had. Our warm, wet summer has kept the leaves greener this year, and the maples in the lower canyon, which are known to show off their reds, were still green. The higher we got into the canyon, the more red we saw, but vibrant colors just weren't there yet. Perhaps in a week.

The dogs did fine. Zeke carried a day pack that he didn't seem to mind. Each pocket carried two 16-ounce bottles and a 3-ounce bag of treats. Sadie and Zeke are a nice team; they don't provoke each other like Minnie and Sadie do. This pack got harder to manage once two of the bottles were drank and the side pockets kept flipping over to one side.

I had to watch for other dogs. The first two we met were at the Ash Creek Springs 2.8 miles into the canyon. Sadie did her usual growling and Zeke his usual high-pitched bark, and luckily the other dog, a boxer mix, was as fearful of Sadie was. Away from other dogs and they did fine, although I had to make sure the dogs weren't always going in between the legs of others. Sadie likes to walk ahead of me and then turn around to wait for me, causing people at times to walk right into her. When she turns sideways, she blocks the entire path because of her length. The best way to prevent this from happening is to walk in the back or be way up front.

Predicted highs today were in the 80s and clear. This was cooler than last year, when we didn't even make it to the first ridge line. I felt stronger this time as I climbed up the exposed switchbacks after leaving the canyon for the ascent to Bassett Peak. The entire group walked at the same pace, so that there was no waiting around for everyone to catch up.

The wind, as expected, picked up once we were on the ridge line. From the ridge, views to the north wilderness were impressive, as all one sees are mountains and valleys. No towns or artificial landmarks. From this ridge, the peak is still 1.4 miles away to the west, and onward we went. We had some shade again, which cooled off the dogs.

The sun shone on the B-24 wreckage that still spots a north-facing cliff near this trail. Eleven people died in this 1943 crash. The shattered remains are too difficult to remove and are now part of the landscape.

The last mile to the 7650' peak were the steepest, and recent landslides made traversing this switchback ominous at best. Decideous trees lined the trail again. When we got back on mostly level ground, we took our lunch break. I was hungry and it had taken us three hours to get to the top. The dogs each got some raw meat, water, and snacks. I ate a spicy chicken sandwich. The meat for the dogs cost more than that sandwich! Rod wanted to wait until he got up to the top to eat his lunch, despite knowing that it would be windy up there. He insisted.

The final ascent to the peak is via a short bushwhack off the East West Divide trail up the loose decomposed granite. It's easy to follow up, bot not so easy to follow down. One false move and you not only slide downhill, you may also find yourself descending in the wrong direction. I'm surprised no one has marked this section with tape off of the trees. Two members from the other hiking party were yelling for "BOB!" and another man, both who were using GPSes to navigate.

The peak was crowded and windy. This rocky outcrop of a peak is not suitable for large crowds. There is no room to spread out and relax. We talked to several people from the Tucson hiking groups on the peak, as we all huddled close by. One man held his Pomeranian Joseph, who seemed to enjoy antagonizing my dogs. The owner held him the entire time as I held on to my dogs. The peak is not a place to sit and meditate. The winds are too stong and there is no solitude.

We stopped again afterwards back at our break area on our return hike so that Rod could eat. I will not understand why he couldn't eat when the rest of us did, as as soon as we got to the peak he said it was too windy and crowded on the summit! He says and does silly things when he is dehydrated. Rod doesn't like to drink much water and lately he has been more tired than usual. He's a great guy on a hike, though, as he knows so much about our trails and he doesn't talk much. Like me, he prefers to walk in silence. Big Steve, though, never shuts up.

I took a nice fall as I got back on the trail, bruising my right shin as I rolled to protect my camera. That fall hurt the rest of the walk down, but my leg never swelled up to an intolerable size.

The sun was now setting on the other side of the mountain at 2:30pm, and when I got back down to the canyon, the sun was no longer shining on the leaves. The dogs were back to being near water, and I waited for the rest of the group before we all returned to our cars. Many of the day hikers had already left. We were back on the road by 5:15pm. We barely had light before we hit pavement again. I get uncomfortable driving at night on dirt roads.

The dogs were exhausted as they spread out in the truck. They ignored three white-tailed deer that jumped in front of me as I was leaving the campgrounds, but they got excited when cows came on Ash Canyon road, the main and only thorough way. They barked incessantly and wouldn't calm down once we were past the cattle.

There were sadly two dead dogs on the road in Willcox, one was a border collie. Those dogs were still alive earlier that day as I did not see any dead dogs along the road. Sad, so sad how quickly life can be taken.

I convinced the guys to try the new Mexican restaurant, "Isabel's" in Old Willcox. It's a small placein a historic hotel. It was crowded as we got inside, as it looked like a wedding party was finishing up a meal. I appreciated the warmth. My enchilada-style chicken burro was exquisite. The three Diet Pepsis I had gave me enrgy back, so that the rest of the drive home was uneventful



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The Shrines at moon rise

I went back to Bisbee again today, this time with just Zeke since he's so good on a leash in town. We left the house at 4pm as Kevin got home from work, said our hellos and good-byes, and off we were. Zeke stuck his head out the front passenger window the entire time. He loves that cool breeze through his fur! Scattered clouds warned of a possible overcast at moon rise...

There was one person who signed up for my last-minute hike, Mike D, a retired man volunteering at Kartchner Caverns State Park. (He knows my friend Brenda who is the senior volunteer there). He had hiked a 7-mile r/t hike in the Coronado National Monument earlier in the day and he still had plenty of energy!

We both were early for our meet-up and since no one else was signed up, took off at 4:40pm. This gave us enough light to see some of the shrines along the way to the main cross. Mike had never been on this hike and took plenty of photos. It took us 25 minutes to get from the Gulch parking lot to the top of the hill. I didn't have to slow down for Mike at all. We chatted, and he told me how he got into RVing around the country and volunteering at parks after his retirement. After his wife died two years of a sudden stroke, he knew he needed to keep active, so he sold his house and hit the road. It's a thought that's crossed my mind as well, but that would mean having fewer pets to guard me. I also like having my current home as a base to stay in the winter.

We got to the top with almost 30 minutes to spare before moon rise. We walked around the short ridge line, keeping warm from the cold fall breeze. Lights were coming on in town, giving the town a wintery feel. It sure does get cold now once the sun sets! Zeke was a great dog, his only flaw was jumping up on Mike, but he never barked and never ran off. Zeke was by my side the entire time, following me everywhere.

The posted moon rise was 5:36pm, but because we were so close to a mountain, it took the moon ten extra minutes to crest over a saddle. It finally did peak behind the saddle, in total view. The clouds were too high up. That gave us just enough light to get off the hill top. Yesterday would have been a better day to photograph the moon, as there was less cloud cover and more day light. But who knew?

Mike had forgotten his flashlight in his car so we used my little handheld flashlight I had just gotten to review form Amazon, a small light with added USB charger. That little thing gave off a strong-enough light for both of us as we slowly made it downhill. Even Mike was impressed with the small light.

Bisbee was quiet today. OK Street was dark in places, and few people were out until we got back to the parking lot. Mike drove off right away, but I stopped in the brewpub for one pint. Zeke sat by my side. He did so well today, and he didn't even mind the doggie pack he had on. He's going to be a great hiking dog as he matures.