Brown Canyon to the falls

Brown Canyon in the eastern Huachucas is a popular hike for the locals.  It's so popular, though, that the crowds turn me off.  It'sbest to tackle the canyon early in the morning, or late in the afternoon if fewer people are preferred.  Since I was off work until 1pm, Bill and I agreed to meet at 7am, after sunrise, and hike into the canyon to look for fall colors.  At 7am it was still in the upper 40s, but at least warmth was coming. Zeke and Sadie came along.

All the flowers along the lower trail are now gone to seed. I didn't expect much color here, since most of the flora consists of pines, juniper, and oaks.  The mushrooms are long gone.  Other than the peaceful sounds of nature around us, and the sun shining through the trees, there wasn't much to enjoy in the first mile as far as color goes.

The wilderness boundary to the Miller Peak Wilderness begins at the old Brown canyon road.  We continued to hike into the narrowing canyon.  Here the stream follows the trail and the deciduous trees begin.  But there was no color here.  It was all still green all the way to the waterfall.  We arrived here after 8am as the first rays of the sun tickled the higher canopies of the sycamores.  We made this our turn-around point, 2.6-mile into the hike, but not before exploring the rocky canyon walls.

Brown Canyon's character is different up here.  It's rocky, full of water, and a haven for birds and butterflies among the various deciduous trees.  Mature trees untouched by fire grow here.  It's a lovely spot for quiet reflection before resuming the hike.  This is what we did.

We climbed along the rocks of the waterfall, photographing the various moss and lichen.  It was Nature's painbrush of greens, yellows, browns and orange in various designs.  We had to watch our step here, though, as there wasn't much room to maneuver and one misstep and either of us could fall 20 feet.

There was a gentle stream coming down the waterfall.  The pool looked clean (no stagnant water with floaties), but Zeke didn't go in it.  Sadie didn't bother climbing up to the waterfall; she stayed safely below, and rested on the soft ground.

The geology of the rocks here fascinate me.  The rock is near vertical, in waves of layers.  What else is around here?  I've always explored the lower waterfall, but have never climbed up and around these rocks.

We headed back at 9am.  The sun was slowly lighting up the deeper parts of the canyon. We came across a few mountain bikers once we got back to the lower canyon, and there were three horses getting ready to ride in the parking lot, but otherwise this was another fun photographic endeavor.  We didn't see much of autumn here, but there was plenty of rock and light to play around with.

***

We went our separate ways at 11am.  I still had time at home for other things. But on the drive back to Ramsey canyon Road, I recognized my friend SusanM hiking north.  She was by herself.  I stopped to make sure it was her.  She recognized me and approached me and that is when I noticed her in tears.  What happened.  I lowered the passenger window and she said, choking up, "Tala is gone."

What?  Tala is her four-year-old German Shepherd Dog (GSD) that she got from the local animal rescue, Border Animal Rescue, two year ago.  Tala is a gorgeous classic black-and-tan GSD.  Susan was devoted to training Tala and socializing her, as she was a dog that was taken from an abusive home.  Tala spent her first two years locked up in a yard.  Her owner never trained her or gave her much affection.  (The story is very similar to Sweetie's story.)

I pulled my car off the road and got out.  I knew Susan needed to talk.  And then her tears began all over again.  Tala had gotten hit by a neighbor's car on her road and died instantly.  The neighbor is an 18-year-old daughter of a county sheriff deputy.  "She didn't even stop" said Susan.  Who would expect a neighbor to be racing down a private dirt road? And then have the violator be the daughter of a sheriff deputy who defends his daughter with "How do you know she was speeding?  Did you catch that on radar?"

"Tala is happy and running down the road, and then the lights went out."  Every time Susan mentioned Tala's name, the tears got stronger.  She thinks Tala saw something across the road and took chase. I had to choke back my own tears.  I know Susan loved that dog.  She got that GSD because she was inspired after hiking with my Sadie and Minnie.  She loves the GSD.  When she adopted Tala, though, she didn't realize she was very fearful of men and other people besides Susan.  Susan was the one human that dog could trust.

"She was my life," added Susan.  "I gave up so much to make her happy."  Oh boy, can I understand!  I have gone on so many solitary hikes because of Sweetie, wanting her to experience life as a dog should, away from other dangers like cars, people, horses and other dogs.

We stood at the side of the road for a good 20 minutes.  She needed to talk.  Susan had forfeited many hikes with the rest of us hikers, just to devote to Tala's emotional recovery. "She was starting to come out in the last six months and was happy" added Susan.

Susan didn't tell anyone about Tala.  I am the first to know.  But I promised Susan to keep quiet about it and let her do the telling.  I also promised to let her know of any hikes I do in the future.  She agreed to join Bill and me for a hike up Carr Peak this Sunday at 8am.  The hike among old friends will do her good.

I only met Tala briefly once.  She was still very timid and I saw her from the back of Susan's Jeep.  Susan would take Tala on walks around the Brown canyon ranch house, out and back at just under two miles.  She also took Tala on walks along the San Pedro river, cautioning her of predatory coyote nearby.  Tala took commands from Susan and learned to walk by her side.  She did maintain a high predatory drive, though, and that is what killed her in the end.