Saturday 6 December 2014

The Apache Trail

On our day off, Terry and I inched our way through morning commuter traffic on the  first outing of our month in Phoenix.  Our destination was Apache Junction, the starting point of a former stagecoach route, the oldest highway in the United States. The Apache Trail winds 40 miles (64 km) through the Superstition Mountains north east of Phoenix.
 

At the visitors' centre we armed ourselves with information and maps, and headed towards the mountains





First we stopped at a touristy ghost town, Goldfield.  "Do you want to ride the train?" asked Terry. I thought we might as well get into the mood, so we  took a twenty minute ride around the town made up of reconstructed buildings, listening to the engineer's drawled commentary.


















On the periphery of Goldfield




A train pulling mining cars













We took a quick look around. It was much like other ghost towns.







Next stop, the Lost Dutchman State Park.  Should we hike first, or have our picnic?  I settled for an apple and a granola bar for the time being, and we set off on the marked trails between the cacti.  An hour and a half later, were had made a loop and were back at our starting point.







The area is dotted with the Saguaro Cactus, the state plant of Arizona. The ones with arms are already more than a hundred years old. 
This measuring stick shows an annual growth of at least six inches.  






This one is nearing the end of its days





Eventually it splits apart . I'm not sure if this is decaying material, or material from a bird's nest. It's packed in there like filling in a cavity.















I like to document flowers.  This is the brittlebush, common in the desert.  Terry and his work partner cleared  clumps of these low bushes from around the fence surrounding the football field last month.  He said its stems were dry and brittle and snapped into pieces easily.  The yellow flowers added a splash of colour to the otherwise greenish- grey of the desert. 





Chuparosa- hummingbird flower


The creosote bush conserves moisture by its small, waxy leaves.  Before it rains, it sends forth a creosote-like smell ; also if you crush its leaves.  Its flower is a small fuzzy globe like a round pussy willow.









Prickly pear cactus has small red fruit in the summer.
At Pusch Ridge Christian Academy last month, the Grade Six class harvested the fruit with tongs, and their teacher and volunteer mothers made prickly pear jelly to sell.  This would fund their annual field trip to the Grand Canyon.  A bit tart, but flavourful!







Terry likes to photograph birds with his zoom lens.  This is an American Kestrel, a summer bird in Alberta, magnified 200 times.


The best bird of the day, though, was this black-throated sparrow, seen very rarely in Alberta, but common in the desert.  Terry thinks he may have seen it once at home. Many of them flitted on the ground as we walked along the trail through low shrubs. 




Finally we had our picnic!  Terry had brought his own fire wood from Canada, knowing most places no longer supply it; you're not even allowed to collect dead wood on site.  Of course he brought lumber, scavenged from old pallets at Canadian Tire, and from the collection in Nick's garage, because you can't bring wood with bark on it across the border.  This was our first barbecue of the "winter" season, and very satisfying, if not a bit sterile looking!  The child in me loves wiener roasts.
Our nitrite free wieners cooked quickly
Having lunch in the warm sun

 Past the state park, the road wound further through the mountains.  The first lake was Canyon Lake.  The next was Apache Lake.  Between them, the famous town of Tortilla Flat--population 6!  We didn't get any pictures, as the sun was beginning to sink below the mountains.  My interior picture of the ice-cream parlour didn't turn out--the walls and ceiling plastered with autographed dollar bills, some from other countries. We did tour a tiny museum which was supposed to be the size of the former one room school house.

We travelled twenty-two miles of winding gravel road which hugged the edge of the cliff with no railings. It was a good thing there was no one else on the road, as some parts were only one lane wide. Terry had had a lot of practice from our New Denver days, before they improved the highway high above Slocan Lake.  Eventually we came across  the Roosevelt Dam, finished in 1911. 

Roosevelt Lake


After this, there was only one site left to see in the Tonto National Monument, but they were just closing.  Terry had wanted to see the cliff dwellings, but it was too late.  We completed the loop and went home the long way in the gathering dark.  A wonderful day!

You are worthy, O Lord our God, to receive glory and honour and power.
For you created all things, and they exist because you created what you pleased.   Revelation 4:11