Before I forget:

This is directed to the person responsible for sending me the huge cannister of Sanders dark chocolate salted caramels that arrived the day before I left Ann Arbor. There was no note attached to tell me who sent them but, nevertheless, please know that I both bless you and curse you. I have been enjoying them despite what they are probably doing to my waistline and am trying really hard to dole them out in a way that will prolong their longevity on this trip. I’ll be lucky if they make it to the end of October…

The Texas Wrap-up

I would be remiss if I didn’t bookend the El Paso experience with some really great moments in Texas. The El Paso article may have sounded a little bit like a downer, but what you get in this part-travelogue and part-history narrative are all of me, not just the fun and sunny moments. When I’m frustrated, you’ll know it. When I’m awestruck, you’ll know that too. When I react to something that happened, I’ll likely tell you about it. It’s all part of the overall adventure that adds texture and variety to the experience. And at the end of the day, what seems like complaining or disappointment is told within the overall context of the adventure and I will always look for the amusement in the frustration, and embrace it all. Lest you think that my El Paso disappointment is my only take-away from Texas, here are some of the highlights that I haven’t mentioned up to now:

The Ranch

Coming through Texas I had the unusual experience of booking an overnight at a ranch. Sounds fun, right? I booked it through Boondockers Welcome so it would be a free stay, one of several I am working in here and there on this trip (I think I mentioned that I stayed at a deer farm in Louisiana). I had visions of cattle, horses, and who knows what else on ranchland that those of us over 60 might associate with the old TV shows Bonanza or High Chapparal.

It would be an understatement to say that it didn’t rise to the level of the TV show ranching life. As a ranch its glory days were clearly behind it, or perhaps it is in transition and more glory days are yet to come. There were fences, barns, and lots of evidence that animals had once lived there, but all were empty. There was a house on the property with a nicely kept yard with greenery and flowers. None of the emptiness and scruffiness spoiled my experience one iota. Sadie and I enjoyed the solitude of the big spaces and the owner (who was away when I arrived and returned after I had gone to bed, so I never actually met him) had clearly marked spots for RVs with water and electrical hook-ups if needed. The entire expanse of the property was fenced in and Sadie enjoyed running around and snuffling everywhere. Walking through the old pasture fields I was amazed by the abundance of large grasshoppers that flew off in all directions with every step I took.

It was windy, quiet and peaceful, and offered me a very beautiful sunset and a big sky of stars before I went to bed. Perfect end to a long driving day.

The Climb and The Eclipse

Being in Texas for the annular eclipse was a happy accident, one of many that have already happened on this trip. I learned about it just a couple weeks before I left Michigan, so I quickly researched whether I would be in the path and determined that I might be able to see 90% coverage if I played my cards right. I ordered the special eclipse glasses that one needs and tucked them into my camper in a place I was pretty sure I’d be able to find them again (never a sure thing if there is going to be more than a few days between when I stash something away and when I need it).

As it turned out, the eclipse was on the same day as my trip into El Paso. I was staying at a state historic and archaeological site outside of town and did some hiking that morning before going into the city. The Hueco Tanks Park is a gem and apparently offers some of the best rock climbing anywhere (according to rock climbers, of which I am not one). For those of us less willing to risk our life and limb on the steep rock walls, there were other trails and rocks more suited to people of a certain age and physical agility.

I did my hike in the cool of the morning so that I could leave Sadie in the camper (no dogs allowed on the trails). The trails did not disappoint, and my primo hiking shoes allowed me to clamber up and down and around the rocks with ease. This is an activity that Jay and Conrad and I enjoyed as a family when we lived in Massachusetts. Purgatory Chasm was one of our favorite haunts, and I knew that they both would have enjoyed the day with me. With that in mind, I brought Jay with me on this hike.

The last time I had tried to capture a solar eclipse was in 2017 in New York City. Jay and I were there while he was participating in a clinical trial that we hoped would slow down his brain cancer (it did not). We tried to find an open spot in all those skyscrapers and concrete where we could see the shadow on the ground (the old pinhole in paper technique). Jay humored me and wasn’t really into it, but he did gamely try to appreciate my effort to bring him out of his doldrums. In healthier days we would have both enjoyed the whole enterprise immensely.

I also scattered some ashes in the shade of a tree at the bottom of the Hueco Tanks rock formation. It was in a spot near where some 200 year old graffitti was visible right beside the pictographs that were many thousands of years older than that. It seemed fitting that he should rest in the spot where so many had gone before.

Shifting Topography

One of the interesting things about road tripping across the country is the many changes to the landscape that you pass through. In some cases it is really obvious why the state lines are drawn where they are. The line between Louisiana and Texas is one. The line between New Mexico and Arizona is another. In Louisiana I crossed over into Texas and immediately left behind the swamps, bogs, bayous and alligators. As I drove west the landscape moved from lush trees and hills on the eastern edge to flat, brushy desert as far as you can see on the western edge, where the vast reach of the oil industry is in evidence everywhere you look or drive. The landscape in New Mexico is similar to that in Texas, but without all the oil fields and heavy industry. New Mexico was flat and desolate and undisturbed (for the most part) and utterly beautiful. I imagine it looks today much like it did in 1938.

The vastness of the open spaces in the southwest are rather mind-blowing to an easterner like me. Driving through such a wondrous landscape for hours and hours is fascinating. I’m not bored, and my thoughts wander all different directions as I look around me while driving the straight, endless roadways. Sometimes I listen to NPR. Sometimes I listen to music. Sometimes I listen to podcasts. Much of the time I don’t listen to anything at all and just drink in the scenery. I have always enjoyed road trips, but on this one I am rediscovering how much I enjoy the solitude of the drive.

First Entry Into Arizona

On this trip I will be going through Arizona twice, about a month apart. On the way to California I am going through Phoenix. On the way back I will be going through Flagstaff. Both parts of the state are very different from each other, so I’m happy to be getting the chance to experience them both.

Coolidge and Roosevelt

I headed out of Texas on the big interstate and across New Mexico with no stops until Lordsburg, near the border with Arizona. I knew that my 1938 relatives had gotten gas in Lordsburg and that they stayed overnight in Safford, Arizona. At Lordsburg I got off onto Route 70 going north to Safford. Route 70 was much more to my liking and gave the flavor of driving in 1938, going through all the little towns. To keep myself amused I tried to imagine which of the buildings would have been there 85 years ago. Quite a few, actually, but many of them were boarded up or abandoned, with faded signs in front, or leftover gas pumps still standing.

When I got to Safford, the county seat, the old part of town was clearly well preserved and had a fun vibe. I would have checked it out more thoroughly and maybe sampled some local cuisine because it was still pretty early in the afternoon and I was only a few minutes from my destination for the night. However, it was shut up tight as a drum on this Sunday afternoon. Nothing open. Not one of the cute little shops. Not a single restaurant. Not a cafe. Nothing. Of course, on the strip running along the edge of town you had your gas stations, Walmart, Dairy Queen and other big box stores and fast food places all open for business, but the downtown area was apparently reserved for the other six days of the week. Oh well, timing is everything. I did see a couple of motels by the side of the road on my way into town that I imagined Fred and the gang staying in, which was fun to think about while I was exploring the streets and giving Sadie a much needed walk. I also found an open grocery store so stocked up on some supplies.

I had a reserved camp spot on a lake at nearby Roper Lake State Park and was treated to the most beautiful sunrise the next morning. I left early because although I didn’t have that far to go to get to the next campsite near Phoenix, I wanted to deviate from the main route to check out two dams that are noted on Fred’s map. I know they crossed one of them and then went in search of the other, so I set out for Coolidge Dam first.

Coolidge Dam

Looking at the 1938 map with Fred’s notes on it, the road to the dam and across it was the main route west out of Safford, where they had spent the night. However, for me it was a deviation off of the (newer) main road and I had to go almost 20 miles on a smaller road through Apache Indian Reservation land to get to the dam. I normally wouldn’t have minded at all because the scenery to get there was absolutely stunning and I had plenty of time budgeted in, but the road really put Nelly to the test. It was narrow, twisty road, made from gravel or broken pavement (or both) and lots of potholes and ruts. The 2 or 3 vehicles that passed me were all 4-wheel drive trucks high off the ground with big tires for navigating rough terrain. I could only go 20mph on the road, and even that was a challenge. Sadie was not happy. I was not happy. Nelly Bly was definitely not happy. I think the road was probably in much better shape in 1938 when it was a main route, but it seems that no one has bothered to maintain it since the new road was built as a bypass for the winding road I found myself on. It was also the only way to get to the dam. It seems very unlikely that anyone would be on this road at all unless you lived there, or unless you were a crazy person like me who just wanted to see the dam, which seems to have been all but forgotten by anyone not residing on these beautiful tribal lands.

The dam is located on the Gila River and supplies water and irrigation to the surrounding region. There is a beautiful reservoir on one side of it and the river flowing from it on the other side. A big white truck came along as I was snapping photos and a nice young man named Cameron stepped out and asked where I was from. We had a nice chat and he told me about the area (lots of birds to watch for, especially the quails which are stupid and will flutter around right in front of your car) and the dam (higher water this year than in previous years and they are releasing some of it for the first time in awhile). I told him about my mission and why I was winding my way through the countryside in search of the dam. Of course I gave him a bookmark before we parted ways, but he declined to have his picture taken. Respect.

After crossing the dam I continued on the road, thinking that it would take me to the main road on the other side. My maps and Google were of limited use because the road I was on was not really clearly marked. Finally Google told me to turn around, which I did and rattled and shook my way the way I had come and back over the dam. At which point I saw Cameron again, standing outside of his truck. I rolled down my window and we exchanged pleasantries one more time. I told him I was headed next to the Roosevelt Dam and he suggested a couple of places to eat on the way. Nice guy!

Roosevelt Dam

It occurs to me as I’m writing this that the difference in the quality of the roads on the reservation vs. in the national forest may have something to do with what the legislators in Washington are willing to fund. Knowing what I know about our government’s treatment of Native Americans over the centuries, it would not surprise me to see national forest roads routinely prioritized for funding over Indian Road 3 (as the road to the Coolidge Dam is named). Once the bypass was built, making the winding trek around the lake and over the Coolidge Dam unnecessary for people traveling through the area, there was no longer any need to maintain the road. This of course ignored the fact that there were a lot of people living on the land who would probably appreciate roads more passable than this one was. Mmmm…

At any rate, on my way to the Roosevelt Dam I passed the entrance to the Tonto National Monument. I had no idea what this was, but resolved to find out before I left the area. To get to the dam I had to get off the main road that went passed Roosevelt Lake and onto Route 88, better known as the Apache Trail. This is another winding, twisty, narrow road, with steep grading through the mountain, but at least it was well-paved. I found the dam, took some pictures, and then stopped at the Tonto National Forest information building on my way back.

The Roosevelt Dam was named for Teddy Roosevelt and opened in 1911. Fred’s map indicates that the group deviated from the planned route to go have a look at it. This is not surprising because his insatiable curiosity would not have wanted to miss it, and he was clearly very persuasive with his fellow travellers. The Apache Trail road that I took to get there has been advertised as a scenic roadway since long before 1938, and I loved that I was taking the same road they did. After passing the dam the Apache Trail continues on to Phoenix and Fred’s markings on their map indicate that they took that path. I might have stayed on that twisty road myself except that signs warned that a chunk of the road was closed and so I turned around and went back the way I came through the national forest.

That was not the end of the Apache Trail for me, however. When I continued on to my campsite, I discovered to my delight that the Lost Dutchman State Park is right off of that trail, which means that I was staying literally in the shadow of where they drove! Once I realized that I was at the other end of the Trail from where the Roosevelt Dam is, I resolved to do a little more exploring, knowing that my relatives saw the exact sights I was in the shadow of. So I spent the hot afternoons checking out the Goldfield Ghost Town the first day and Tortilla Flats on the second.

About That Heat…

I wasn’t exaggerating about the 100 degree heat. In fact, by the time I made it to the campsite where I’m staying for three nights, it had topped out at 102. I know that isn’t anything compared to the high temperatures in this area all summer, but jeeesh!! I planned this trip in October and November precisely to avoid these stunningly high temps! My little camper is not equipped with air conditioning and so Sadie and I have to suffer at night with just some fans blowing in the hope that the cooler night air will allow us to get some sleep. I typically prefer temperatures at night to be in the 60s or even 50s, but last night I was grateful when it got down to 75. After surviving the first two nights I am hopeful we will make it through the last one, but the days are brutally hot, even in the shade. I had planned to stay near the campsite for the days that I’m here and maybe do some hiking or sightseeing close by. That seems doubtful in light of the weather predictions for the next several days. Sun. Heat. More sun. More heat. So the plan to just “chill out” (literally) will likely not happen until I get to California, which is coming up. In the meantime, I am enjoying the stunning scenery, staying hydrated, and dousing Sadie and myself with water everytime I think we need it, which is more and more often as the afternoon progresses. I even took her into the shower, and I think it may have helped, but the water was warm coming out of the cold side of the shower head so I’m not so sure it cooled her off as thoroughly as intended. This offers a bit of irony in that I have been putting up with cold showers at the campsites in Texas and Louisiana, where the temperatures at night got down into the 50’s. Not really what I would call cold shower weather!

As write, I feel a little breeze but the sun is crossing the sky and I realize I need to shift where I am or I’ll be in the full sun in about 15 minutes. I’ve been moving myself around all day to stay in the shade, but other than that I’ve been avoiding moving at all. The first day here I bailed out in the afternoon to check out the Goldfield Ghost Town, about 2 miles away. It is a pretty stereotypical old west tourist trap, offering lots of ways to spend money on things like: mine tour, zip line, train ride, panning for gold, portrait taking, museum, horseback rides (I would have gone for this one for sure if it hadn’t been so hot), lots of shopping for souvenirs.

More to Come

Tomorrow I head into California, following the 1938 trail. I have another full day of nothing to do but wait out the heat, so perhaps another article will appear sooner rather than later. I’m learning things about myself and about long haul road-tripping, and reflecting on the experience. May turn that into something… stay tuned!