Drove Six Miles to go 200 Feet

Saturday, March 7, 2015

Everyday, I look over the bow of my motorhome and see those black mountains in the distance to the south.  I often see ATVs racing down the road across the canal from me to the east heading towards those mountains.

Today, I am going to see what is so interesting over there.  I can see small roads running along the crests of the mountains.

It is going to be a very warm day, so soon after breakfast, Yuma and I head out towards our destination. 

We drive the three miles north on our dusty, washboard road up to Imperial Road (hwy 24), make a right over the bridge and then another right and we are now on the other side of the canal heading south.  This road is smaller and lined with bushes and small trees.  Those mountains are dead ahead.

After six miles of driving, we are now 200 feet from camp, but the canal separates us.

 

 

 

We reach the first hill and up we go without a thought.

As I come over the top and see what is before me, yesterday’s memories of driving on hill crests came back to me in flash.

I could see the same thing.  A small trail with no way of turning around was dead ahead.

Luckily, there was a fairly flat spot on the top of the hill I am on, so I pull over as far as I can, in case an ATV comes along later.  Yuma and I get out and walk.  And it was not a hill too soon.  The trail on the very next hill was at a 45 to 50 degree angle and there was no way I was going to drive my jeep around that.  I would slide right down into the ravine.

On foot, the pressure was off and Yuma and I enjoyed the views all around as we headed towards the top.

The photos don’t show depth very well, but you can see from the trees and the saguaro cactus below that the ravines are deep.

The views of the mountains and ravines were beautiful in a stark way.

The top of that hill is our destination.  As you can see there is no shade anywhere and it is beginning to get quite hot.  Calling for 87 this afternoon and it is 11:30 am now.

Before we reached the jeep, Yuma and I posed for a photo overlooking our home for this week, Mittry Lake.

Just east of the road following the canal is the Yuma Proving Ground.  I’m guessing this tank didn’t make it.

We were home by 1:30 pm and all we did for the rest of the day was rest and stay out of the sun.  I really do like relaxing outside under the awning in this weather.

See you later.

Pause, Rest, Worship

Friday, March 6, 2015

My back was sore from all the jeep bumping yesterday, so we decided to rest for most of the day.

At around 3 pm, Yuma and I headed out to see if we could find a little white church someone had told me about.

Supposed to be on hwy 95 just east of Fortuna Road by about 3 miles.  Not far, and we almost missed it, but I saw this sign and looked out into the field beyond it, and there it was, just standing by itself.

Very pretty little,little church.  Just to give you an idea, how small it is, here I am standing in front of it.

I opened the door and the pulpit was right there, with three sets of pews to either side and one stained glass window on each side.

Not very big, but if you just wanted a small amount of privacy for a quick prayer, this is the place.

I had also read there is a great view of Yuma from Telegraph Pass in the Gila Mountains on the east side as you come into the Gila Valley.  I didn’t write down the directions thinking there would be few roads leading into the mountains. 

Should have written them down.  Yuma and I managed to get into some very rough and bad trails that scared both of us.  From a distance, it didn’t look bad.

But once I started up one of the trails, I quickly found that I was not going to be able to turn around.  The  trails ran along the tops of crevices and there was nothing but straight down on either side. 

And the ups and downs were frightening because I could not see the trail as I crested the hills and wasn’t sure if it would go straight or turn at the top.  If I could, I would stop and get out and look over the top to see how it went, but other times it was so steep there was not stopping.

I finally got to the top of a hill and saw an ATV coming down the other side.  This was the steepest hill I have ever seen and luckily, the trail went either down towards him or I could go right and head back down a different trail out of there.

I waited till he got to me and asked if my jeep could make it if I went to the right.  He looked at my tires and said “with those street tires you wouldn’t make it up the steep incline I just came through.  Your only choice is to go right and you should have no problems getting out”.  Boy, was I glad to hear that.

I don’t know how I so quickly get into these predicaments but I hope this is the last one for this trip.   When we hit the pavement , I said a little prayer and we quickly headed towards camp, thankful nothing serious happened.

See you later.

Picacho State Park, California

Thursday, March 5, 2015

The Picacho State Park was at one time a prosperous mining town, but no longer exists.   The drive to this park is 18 miles of tortuous washboard, dusty, rocky road.  This is a road trip only the hardy will make.

I have attempted to make the drive to the park two times in the past but the road is discouraging to drive, so I turned back.  This time I was determined to drive to the park.

The eighteen miles of bad road passed through some of the most desolate land I have ever seen.  Rocks everywhere.  Mountains of rocks.  Very little grows here and what does is some sort of cactus.  I felt like I was driving on Mars, it was so rugged.

As we neared the park, we found a plaque describing how this area came into existence.

Stopped by the ranger’s office for a map of the hiking trails and of course Yuma meets a new friend.

The Colorado River runs along the north end of the park.

Yuma loved the river.  He ran around in it and drank from it.  Had to pull him back or I think he would have gone swimming in it.

There is a cemetery.

As we walked along the river, nothing was left of the old mining town except the jail.  It was carved into the side of a hill and had bars at the entrance.  Not much of a jail, but I’m sure it was difficult to escape from.  Parts of the old mining operation was still evident down by the river too.

Although, at the end of the day, both Yuma and I are worn out from the drive there and back, we are glad we did it.  There are magnificent views of the rugged country and the Colorado River.

See you later.