Today's trail work turned out to be more fun than expected. The military volunteers (Lieutenants at Fort Huachuca taking the Officer Basic Course) were a good bunch of people and the weather turned out to be near perfect. We got a lot done. I brought Sadie along, who played with Chalita (and sometimes played roughly)but who generally stayed near me as I went up and down and around the trail area cutting off dead or protruding branches.
The hiking club is responsible for the most southern segment of the Arizona Trail, a 800-mile long-distance trail that starts at the Mexican border and ends at the Utah border. Once a quarter we try to get some work on a section of the trail that needs help with trail work, litter pick-up or removing snags. We hadn't done much work earlier last year (I take the blame for that). We were overdue to help the Forest Service.
Our Forest Service ranger for today was Craig, who came along with his brindle boxer. I told him about the hunters and shooters shooting forest service signs in Ash Canyon and leaving trash along the way. Every time one of those drunken shooters shoots out a sign, he is vandalising government property, property that gets paid out of our tax dollars. I had found a newly-erected "Ash Canyon" sign in the dry creek bed, shot up with bullet holes and bent beyond saving just earlier last week.
We met on post and then carpooled to Scotia Canyon, a 25-mile drive on mostly dirt roads. It was chilly for the first two hours, but by 11am I had taken off my red fleece jacket.
Our focus was a quarter-mile section that needed to be rerouted after several monsoon season that created ravines on the mail trail. I hiked that part of the trail and agree: it had turned into a boulder-cluttered steep ankle-busting section that could prove fatal for horses, careless hikers, and the drug smugglers coming up from Mexico.
I was one of the loppers, going up and down the trail and cutting off branches or twigs that protruded into the trail. As a Master Gardener I was more into the pruning mode, cutting or breaking off branches that were diseased with lichen. So many oaks along that short section were infested with a green lichen that had weakened the trees, so breaking off the dead stuff was easy, even with the larger branches.
Others worked on widening the trail, digging holes for new trail signs, or setting in water breaks. Of the 20 people today, we were able to get a lot of work done, and by 2pm we started slowing down. Most of the lieutenants left then, so it was just us HHC members, and we continued on north along the trail to scout out the next section for the next quarter. We concluded that the next section was easier: the big focus would be to set new cairns along the trail (an old jeep trail) and even out the ruts. This is an exposed section that we should probably get done before the heat of the spring sets in, so before April.
Border Patrol vans and trucks drove past us from both directions all day long. "Wouldn't it be funny if we all just dropped all our stuff and ran?"
asked one young lieutenant after seeing a small convoy of USBP vans drive by.
"We're not dressed in dark enough clothing. Besides, we have dogs with us!" I replied. A helicopter flew low overhead as we worked. Had we alarmed the nearby USBP field office?
The last of us left the area at 4pm. I decided to drive home via the southern route. Instead of driving through Fort Huachuca again, with their many speed traps, I decided to drive along Forest Road 61 along the border. It's a pretty drive I haven't done in a while. I had just enough daylight to make that journey...
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