Wood Canyon and attack by coatimundi (Santa Rita foothills near Sonoita, AZ)

Today's hike was not the route I wanted to take, but I blame that on poor planning on my part and not realizing that some of the roads were now closed to the public.  I wanted to hike to El Pilar in the Santa Rita foothills  from the south end, a shaded waterhole formed by geologic outcroppings, but where I was high in Wood Canyon, on a ridge separating Wood from Adobe Canyon, I couldn't easily get down to the valley where the water was.

I took all four dogs with me, a risk that is making me too anxious now.  This may be the last time I take Sweetie along on a hike in unchartered territory.  I finally found Casa Blanca Canyon Road west of Sonoita, AZ,  with posted access to the National Forest.  This is a wide, well-graded dirt road with free camp sites along the dry creek bed.  The sites were all taken as I drove past, full of resting campers, kids, dogs and a few horses.  The road then stops at a private property fence, with Forest Road 4105 branching off to the right and traveling northeast.  I took this road until it got too ruddy for me.  This road passed shaded oaks and resting cows and a trough (which of course got the dogs riled up).  I parked away from all that distraction near a steep uphill slope and continued walking.  My phone turned itself off and wouldn't come back to life until .3 miles later.  Not sure what caused that glitch but it worked the rest of the hike.

Just past the hill top was a cattle fence and I could see the Santa Ritas and Mount Wrightston, at 9452' the tallest mountain in Santa Cruz county.

The official road ended here, but past the fence the road was now 4107.  I took this road as it meandered uphill.  By now the dogs were panting in the direst sunlight.

All around me I could see high ridgelines going in a north-south direction.  The ridges were mostly tree-free. All the trees where in the cooler valleys and spurs.  FR4107  soon curved and traveled downhill among the oaks, whose shade the dogs appreciated.  I didn't mind the cooling affect, but now I was going south

when I wanted to travel north.  This was a ranching road to lead cows into the cooler and shadier valleys. When I saw a Forest Service sign with a "DEAD END AHEAD" sign I used that as an excuse to turn around and try a more faded north that went north and back up the next ridgeline.

A bent cattle trough near this intersection provided some water, which Zeke and Sweetie took to right away, saving me my own water.  This trail, too, came to a posted Dead End, but a faint cattle or hunter trail continued along this exposed ridgeline.  My tracking app showed I was going the right way, but the road I wanted, Adobe Canyon Road, was far below in the next canyon and 500' lower.  I was not about to bushwhack the steep hillside.  I wanted to stay where I could see the general landscape.

On an overcast or cooler day this would have been a nice hike.  There was a cool breeze but the dogs were panting nonetheless. Most of the shade here was from tall manzanita and agave.  I could see a faded dirt road ahead and I used the landscape to guide me to this road.  This road then led to a scenic overview of the Santa Ritas.  I could see El Pilar in the distance.  Perhaps with a full day of hiking I could discover a road down there more safely, but for now I was happy to be on the ridge.  If anything, this was a short and panoramic hike that showed the foothills of the range.

The forest here is also grazing country, which means there was plenty of cow patties along the route.
Now that I was on a route that would take me straight back to the car, I was more rested and enjoyed this hike.  Except for one Silverado parked near the start, I got the sense of being all alone here.  No cattle were up on the dry ridgeline and I didn't have to worry about encountering cows.  The only wildlife besides birds up to this point was a small Mountain patchnose garter snake, a common non-venemous snake in this region.  What was it doing so far from a water source?

I did come across the camouflaged hunter of the Silverado, who asked me if I owned the "white truck" (my Ford Escape) and I said yes, just as I saw a full-sized white truck meander back down the hillside.

I was at 5.76 miles and close to my truck when suddenly the dogs lurched forward.  Something had scammered across the trail.  It was a spooked coatimundi that Sweetie was determined to catch.  Minnie followed.  The scared animal ran up a mesquite tree, but then fell and took off again, again pursued by two dogs.  This time they had the animal pinned.  I ran after the dogs and screamed, but what stopped the fight was the animal biting Sweetie on the lip, creating a bloody one-inch tear that exposed her teeth.  The dogs let go of the coati and the coati ran up another tree where it stayed until we were out of reach.  This was the second time in as many months that I apologized to a coatimundi for Sweetie's behavior!

I didn't see the tear on her lip at first, just the blood, which dripped from her face and paws as she slowly walked back to the truck with the rest of us.  She's normally jaunting far ahead of everyone else, but now she was in the rear and in pain.  I then realized that the blood on her face was not from the coatimundi, but her own blood.  Droplets of bright red blood spotted the trail.

Minnie was bleeding as well, but her wound was a superficial cut above her nose.  Sweetie's wound continued to bleed as we got to the truck.  The dogs drank more water here, but blood from Sweetie stained the bowl red.  That's when I realized that the bite wound was deeper than I thought. Her front paws were bloodied from the dripping blood.  Her chest was caked with dried blood.  But the one bleeding wound continued to be her upper lip.  Her chin was also cut open, but that wound closed enough by the time we got to the truck.

My truck is always messy, thanks to the dogs and my camping gear I keep in the back, so I had plenty of fleece blankets to cover up the seats and keep blood stains to a minimum.  The dogs quickly jumped into the truck but I needed to control Sweetie's bleeding; her snout was looking more bloodied the more I looked at it.  My bandanna proved to not be very absorbent.

I now had to worry about getting back to Sierra Vista to see my veterinarian.  Office hours are until 6:30pm on Saturdays.  I was both angry and disgusted at Sweetie and because of her repeated display of aggression, not at all sympathetic to her pain.  Would today's encounter mellow her out some?  Did this teach her a valuable lesson? At any rate, this will be her last hike with me.  Luckily the coati survived with minimal injury and Sweetie got the brunt of the injuries.  Deserves her right.  That doesn't mean I was not worried about her welfare on the ride back home.  I kept glancing back at her to make sure she was not showing any signs of shock. At least the incident happened at the end of the hike and not halfway down the canyon.

I was slowed leaving Casa Blanca Canyon Road because of a slow-moving RV ahead of me that seemed to have a water tank leak.  A pick-up behind the RV was the look-out vehicle. Then two horses came bolting out of the forest and galloped on the road next to us, again getting the dogs aggitated.  What else would go wrong now?!  Barking dogs, a bleeding dog and a disabled vehicle in front of me on a dusty road were all bad omens.

Sweetie looked in pain as she leaned against the truck's right door all the way back into town.  Sadie and Minnie were next to her while Zeke rested in the far back. She finally lay down as we reached the vet's office, where I glanced at her now dry mouth (Minnie helped lick it clean) and I rationalized that there wasn't much more to do for her and she was stable.  The worst was over for her.  It was 6:10pm, the parking area was full, and I had four dogs in the car.  The office would close at 6:30pm. Granted, she was in pain, but she was not in any danger of bleeding out and dying.  I opted then to just go home and focus on cleaning her and providing her some rest.

When got home at 6:30pm.  It was already quiet as Kevin was already in bed.  A strong whaff of alcohol emitted from the bedroom, another sign that he had been drinking again.  Sweetie took her usual spot along my side of the bed and lay her head down on her doggie bed.  She remained there the rest of the night, foresaking her after-hike snack.  I checked on her twice.  She was resting, breathing normally and no longer bleeding. She was resting like she usually rests after a long hike. A stroke of sympathy crossed through me as I glanced at her sad eyes, knowing that in most other households she would have been euthanized for her unpredictable behavior.  She is a loving dog toward Kevin and me and I know she would risk her life to protect either of us.  That fierce loyalty is her salvation, but I can no longer risk her injuring other dogs and wildlife.

The total hike was 6.4 miles.  Had I gone on the correct unmarked trail straight to the overlook, it would have cut the hike down by almost two miles.