Walking from Old Bisbee to Lowell

 Bill and I had a 7am date to walk the Bisbee stairs again.  I arrived early as I left from CC's house and had Gretchen with me.  We arrived at 7:48am just as the morning sun's rays lighted the hillsides. Bill texted me saying he would be late, so I took the extra time to clean out the trash in the car. I didn't see his 6:45am follow-up text saying he suddenly got sick and drove back home until 7:10am.  

Not wanting to waste the morning, I opted instead to drive to Old Bisbee and walk around there.  Nothing was open yet for business and the streets were barren, with just sunlight filtering through.

I parked in front of the Kafka Kafe and walked with Gretchen along historic Route 80 to the Lavender Pit and Lowell. The Lavender Pit is a former open-pit copper mine that is now a huge gaping hole outside Old Bisbee.  It is named after Harrison M. Lavender (1890- 1952), General Manager for Phelps-Dodge mining company, the company that for decades owned the subsurface around Bisbee.

I had always wanted to walk that stretch at least once just to find any sites not normally visible from the car driving by at 35mph.  Many cars drive faster than that anyway and the walkway for cyclists and pedestrians isn't very wide.

It's not a very scenic walk.  There's nothing scenic about a big hole in the earth, despite a "scenic overlook" stop for passers-by. There are gaps in the fence to stick a camera through for better pictures. Even when I briefly got off the road and walked along the ditch and through some tunnels, there is not much to discover that doesn't involve trespassing on mine property.  We came across graffiti  and roadside trash.  Gretchen didn't like having cars speed past us just a few feet away.

The walk from the Kafe to the Bisbee Breakfast club is just under two miles, and it involves always watching traffic.  A local cyclist, Sergio Lalli, was struck by driver Noe Jesus Smith on Friday, June 11, 2021 and died two days later.  His mangled bike is now a white ghost bike chained to the chain-link fence that borders the Lavender Pit along the road.  He is not the first cyclist killed along that route.

https://www.myheraldreview.com/news/bisbee/cyclist-struck-by-hit-and-run-motorist-on-state-route-80-at-pit-driver-arrested/article_43e38434-caf9-11eb-85be-538af9043c8a.html

I discovered a bordered-up mine entrance and got up close to the three concrete mining structures.  Then I decided to go all touristy and walked the main street of Lowell, where vintage cars from the 1940s and 1950s are parked along the street for photographers. 

One motorcyclist from Los Angeles, on his first visit to Bisbee, asked me to photograph him "filling up" his tank in front of a pump that reads 34 cents a gallon. That was in 1967 when gasoline sold for that price in Arizona.

I made it to the Lowell Police Department bike patrol car before turning around.  I was now just under three miles and walked the same route back, this time walking the east side closer to the fence.  I watched the tourists photograph all the cars. some leaving their tiny hotel rooms nearby.  I never knew there were hotels in Lowell!

I got back to the Kafka Kafe at 9:25 am. We had walked for two hours.  I kept Gretchen in the car as I went inside for coffee.  Soon Frank, the homeless man I met on Wednesday, walked in, recognized me, and we had coffee together outside.

Frank appears to be well-known among the locals.  He had already had coffee and bagel from another person.  I was his second donator.  He was in good spirits.  Another local man came up to Frank, hugged him and told him that Frank looked healthier and happier now.

Frank is an interesting character.  Born in Brooklyn, New York in 1976, he grew up in New Jersey, but has lived in California, Florida, New Mexico.  How he landed in Bisbee six years is still a mystery to me, but he is generally in good spirits and not a public nuisance.  Perhaps because of his homelessness, he prefers to sit outside and not bother the clients inside Kafka Kafe. He stuffed his pipe with a blunt of cannabis and smoked it briefly. He is very animated and would jump up and start waving his arms about.

We chatted a bit more, but I was aware of the time.  I wanted to get back to the house by 1:30pm and prep either Zana or Wolfie for the vaccine clinic at Tractor Supply. I bit farewell to Frank, then walked to the nearby Grass Shop smoothie  place for an Orange Dreamcicle.  A few minutes after I arrived, Frank shows up and gets a free smoothie from the shop owner.  It's obvious that locals know of him and feed him!  Frank recognized me, waved at me, and then went back to the Kafka Kafe.  He was still there when I finally drove off at  noon.

I got back to the house at 1:30 and continued throwing moldy books away before I realized it was already 2:30pm.  I took the first dog out the door -- Zana -- but a few miles toward town realized I had left my jacket and wallet by the Ford Escape.  I had to turn around.

And then chaos erupted.  Both Gretchen and Zana started fighting.  Neither dog would give in.  Three times they attacked each other.  I had to pull over, cover my head, and scream for them to stop it.  By the time I got back to the house, it was too late to drive into town.  Both Zana and Gretchen were bloodied up.

Thus ended my otherwise busy Sunday.