Oversite Canyon Day II

2023-09-28

We’re in the foothills of the Huachuca Mountains camping and exploring.

A passing deer in the night is probably thinking, “There goes the neighborhood!” It came wandering through camp about 4am minding its own business next to our open net top tent, only to be startled by the rustling of our covers. This stranger in the night was much better for us than the skunk who dropped by the night before, while making its rounds.

This morning, I first have to make up for my neglect of duty the previous evening. I search and find a clearing that is less likely to find tree roots. As I dig the latrine, I discover about a two inch blackened leaf mulch and dust. It lies on top of a dry hard surface of pebbles. There are lots of roots belonging to the scrub oak trees. Little else grows here. This is the dominate species.  It soon is apparent that these tree roots are holding the entire mountainside together. In many places, little else grows out of the thin blanket of leaves, but these trees which create it. It is a soft carpet webbed together on a slippery slope. The stiff leaves on top make a lot of noise, as I pace and when I claw with my tomahawk.

When we get out on the trail, where we had walked yesterday, we begin at a fast pace. Marching is good exercise, but wonderment can be missed that way. We don’t need to explore this strip twice, instead, our bodies need a workout.

As we get further into the canyon there is a turn off. The graded road ends up at a flat space near the creek. I had once thought I might set up the glamping tent here for a week, or so. I see a good amount of dead wood for a fire, when I notice a rock wall. Looking it over more closely, it isn’t natural. It’s some old construction.

There is a path up the steep slope. We use it to inspect a shelf above. There is old weathered broken glass, a tale telling lead usually. The game is afoot, our detective work begins. I look around and generally find a lack of slope up here. A lot to excavation was done at some time, earth moved to level, but by what? A concrete slab pokes out from under the leaf matter. I kick debris around. This is the site of an old building of some sort.

We begin to find more old glass, metal and a stove knob, not the very old metal and hand towel stuff, but before plastic.

DF discovers an old bottle in the base of a tree. It has been elevated by the tree’s growth over the years. She carefully manages it out of its nest.

The old logo is faded, but we complete the guessing game to conclude that it says “grape soda.”

I begin to look for the source of the washout that occurred in a major flood after a forest fire, high above us, denuded the steep mountainsides. It had happened more recently, maybe 20 years ago. It may relate to this ruin. We had found this eroded ditch during our previous trip near here. During my scrounging through the brush, I come across a pile of tailings. There has to be some old mining around here. That is what the building was about.

It also explains the flat area that I thought might make a good glamping site.

Across what remains of the old main road, which can be driven to an official Forest Service trailhead, there is what is left of an old road winding up the hill. It is now only a wide foot trail. I find an old branching route to a large hole, which is an old mine, but the old road still continues up and around the hill. Thick tree branches now drape over the steep trail. I climb over.

DF climbs under branches and brush.

Eventually, it is just too thick to continue.

I’ll bring a saw and clippers next time. Curiosity has grabbed me.

All along the way, we have been finding colorful specimens, fun looking rocks, the crystals that grow in caves and quartz.

There must be more of the little treasures up there. We’re acquiring fun rock fever. I’m speculating. The old overgrown trail probably leads to an old mine. The scrub blocking the road may hide more of less picked over treasure.

Back about half way down, there is another suspicious trail. I put down a couple of rocks, hiding them to pick up later. When the trail turns, sound changes absolutely still and quiet. A short ways brings us to a cave. DF wanders in first, squeezing between the walls that curve into a dark hole.

It is blocked off with an iron gate. It protects the public from the dilapidated mines and perhaps protects claims.

Close by, there is another mine.

Past a piece of tile, there are mineral rocks associated with copper. Crysacola, greens and crystals are found next to a drop off above another mine shaft.

Roundabout, we find our way to explore and maybe find an exquisite fun rock of a personal gem. Some of these are heavy. Whatever is carried out is earned, so much of the old debris is just left.

Back on the main road, it feels like a walk in the park. It is wide and the grade was established for vehicles and wagons. This canyon has had a meandering creek flowing in it for millennia. The basic canyon floor has had to be gentile to slow that flow. There are numerous types of strong healthy trees along the way.

We arrive at the trailhead where one must park before walking into the designated forest. The road becomes overgrown, no longer maintained, but a nice wide trail to walk.

The canyon thins along the way up. We find deer tracks. Above, in a tree, hangs another hunting seat.

The trail very slowly, but steadily, travels uphill for a couple of miles.

I was going to rest, perched on a large boulder that I can remember from the last trip up here, three years ago. I’m disappointed. An animal has screwed up my sitting rock! It likes the spot too. Scat and scraps are everywhere. Lions, tigers, bears and squirrels, oh my!

A tall white tail deer runs up on a ledge on the hillside along the canyon wall just above us. I follow it, but it has better footing and mobility. Still, when I go back to the trail, the cautious deer keeps heading up the canyon, as if I am following it. It goes over a mile out of its way in ignorance, always moving when we approach, but on the other side of the canyon. We continue to hear it as we make our way. It doesn’t think; it reacts.

We come across little wonders, a spider’s web draped across rocks and twigs below.

A black hulk from a very old fire is ahead.

We sit on gorgeous quartz boulders with layers of crystals.

Above us trees tower.

There is a cozy quiet air about this place. When we stop, when we are not kicking fallen leaves and debris echoing sound across the canyon, it is silent. It feels safe. A breeze may lift the mass of leaves in the tree tops above, rustling, and then a silent lone brown object gently floats down to join the rest. One or two of the voices of the various bird species may call out. All and all, we’re naked, natural, feeling a part of this when we’re still.

Occasionally, mountain flowers entertain.

Cacti looking strikingly incoherent grow amongst lush riparian forest.

We wander. The trail thins and becomes more overgrown and more disused as the canyon narrows more and climbs steeper on its way to the top of the mountain. Up there, stretches a spine in a mountain chain covered with alpine forests and fields.

We have no goals in mind.

The plan is to just take it as it comes.

Eventually, it feels like the right time to wander back to camp.

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