West Hunter Canyon

While several of my favorite hiking partners were up in the Galiuro mountains for a weekend camp-out to see the fall foliage, I stayed local. I wasn't in the mood to travel 2.5 hours and then sleep in near-freezing temperatures. Yes, we are in fall now but I'm still not ready for this cold. This is the first year I didn't partake in the annual fall foliage hike in the Galiuros.

Our trees along creeks in the Huachucas provide for small autumn splendor, but many are high up the mountains, above the mesquites and oaks and cacti that stud the lower elevations, and are thus hard to get to. Miller Canyon used to have a beautiful array of colors this time of year, but sadly many of the trees burned and the trail is now a rockslide that's hard on the ankles.

The West Hunter Canyon trail is the mile-long trail built by the Girl Scouts years ago. It starts at the end of the dirt road, at the Miller Peak Wilderness boundary and has been officially abandoned by the forest service. Hunters still come up here and locals walk up to the shaded spring site for some solitude. For years, this was a nice high-elevation area to hide out from the summer heat and look over into the San Pedro Valley. While many of the mature trees died in the 2011 fire and much of the shade is gone, there are still plenty of trees covering the creek area and provide relief from the heat.

The trail starts at an elevation of 5548 feet. This is a steep and now uneven trail that was badly burned in the 2011 fire. The lower half is exposed. Heavy monsoons later that year caused great erosion over the trail, giving the trail a deep crevice for most of the mile. It's a good after-work workout, though, if one watches one's footing.

I took Sadie, Minnie and Zeke on this short hike. As expected, we came across no one. There was running water in the spring once we got to the old homestead site (which also was washed away in the 2011 floods), but I trekked on. The old trail officially ends here at the former homestead site, where rusted mining equipment now litters the creek bed. The trail continues uphill, though, as border crossers have worn down the trail coming down the steep hillside. Where does this trail begin, I've often wondered. This is what I wanted to explore, going uphill as far as I safely could with the dogs, while also enjoying the colors.

A few years ago I couldn't get very far up this trodden path, due to fallen trees and thick brush, but this time we were able to climb farther, up and around fallen trees, thick shrubs and weeds until the trail was no longer safe and faded into the landscape. Years ago we would see discarded backpacks and trash from the border crossers, but today I only found several woolen blankets placed over a log and some weather-worn black trash bags that are used as sleeping gear at night.

I could see fall foliage in some of the deciduous trees higher up the mountain as the mid afternoon sun still shone on the canopies. Most of the colors were hues of yellow and spotted orange; very few reds. I had to climb down off the slope with the dogs and rockhop the creek to get closer to fall colors, but here the deep shade faded the colorscheme. The creek was dry but pools of mud indicate this was recently running. The dogs pranced around here, drinking from small pools of water and wanting me to throw sticks for them. The barking surely warned any nearby smugglers to stay away. Sadie's barks echoed in this canyon.

This hillside is still used for smugglers and is actively patrolled by the USBP. I was aware that I could unknowingly walk into a drug drop-off zone, some smugglers/border crossers hiding in the rocks, or find a dead body long past decomposition to be recognized. I always worry about this when I bushwhack steep or potentially hazardous terrain.

Today I only saw hunters' trucks parked in the lower areas but saw no hunters. It's hard even for the USBP to get here and follow people; the terrain is very rugged. Agents just park their vehicles at the trail head and wait for the smugglers to get lower and closer.

I have no business being high up this unmaintained creek bed, either, but there is a sense of being in unchartered area when one is deep in the rocky canyonside. If something were to happen to me, like I slip down a slope and hit my head against rock (and then have loose rocks above me come crashing down, crushing me), I'm a goner and wouldn't be found by search and rescue teams unless the dogs stayed near me and barked in frustration over my cooling corpse. Would they even do that?

I hadn't hiked the steep creek bed for several years. The last time I was up this high, Sara and Sammy were with me and there was much more trash left behind by the border crosser. In a heavy rain, this area would be full of cascading water, but it's undeveloped, hard to reach, and only people like me with a deathwish perhaps, who would witness this splendor.

The 2.2 mile hike took me over two hours. There was a lot of stopping as I took photographs, but even I was surprised at how slow I was. By the time I got back down to terra firma, I noticed that my left ankle was hurting again. I must have twisted it coming down a steep rock.