Montezuma's Castle

Ah, 'tis another few days off.  Where should we go this time?  Hmmm.  One of our Sunday School class members asked if we had been to Montezuma's Castle yet.  Well, as a matter of fact, no.  So, let's go!

What is Montezuma's Castle, you ask.  I suppose you could call a five-story, 20-room home a castle - even if it is in America.  Built 900 years ago, that would be a pretty impressive dwelling, eh?  The Southern Sinagua carved it out of the side of a cliff, so I suppose you could call it a cliff dwelling, too. Personally?  I call it amazing!

Our first sight of it as we step out of the Visitor Center doorway isn't too impressive - though the weather is magnificent.  Now I remember why we hadn't chosen to come here - one would have to hike to the location, and no one is allowed up to the ruins anymore.  But the "hike" is no more than a short walk on pavement.  Near the top of the cliff at the center of the picture you can see the Castle.

To the left is a river - and it is probably why the Sinagua decided to locate here.  The water is swift and clear.  The land between the river and the base of the cliff is relatively flat, and so farming would be easy-peasy.

But the dwelling itself is wonderful.

It doesn't look castle-ish from here, but I remind myself that it is 50 feet tall (5-stories).  Farther to the left was an even larger dwelling carved into the wall, but it collapsed and is just a mess to look at.

A diorama was made for the grand opening of this National Monument, and it speaks pretty clearly as to how they lived here.

Some say this place was not a destination of the Sinagua, that they used this as a resting place before moving on, perhaps, to the cliff dwellings of the Anasazi.  Could this be a forerunner of today's Holiday Inn?  That's a hoot!

There's a lot more to this story - but you'll just have to come here and find out the rest for yourselves. There's nothing like "boots on the ground" to get the entire, real story.

The Second Movie

The Bells of St. Mary's (1945)

Filming Locations

Showing one filming location

Old Tucson - 201 S. Kinney Road, Tucson, Arizona, USA

Yup.  That's what they say.  According to IMDb.com, The Bells of St. Mary's, about a big city Catholic church about to go under because of lack of funding, was filmed in Arizona at Old Tucson. I am gonna HAVE to rent that movie and watch it again to become a believer.

But do know this:  Old Tucson isn't just about Western movies and TV shows.  Portions of Thelma and Louise were shot here.  Also, The Three Amigos, Lillies of the Field, Treasure of the Seven Mummies ...

I could say that I won't bore you with listing the 300-plus projects that have been filmed here. However, I don't find the list boring at all.  Most of my favorite Westerns - including four with John Wayne - have been filmed here.  But if you are interested in knowing more, go to this website: 

 http://oldtucson.com/films-producers-directors/film-history/

This has turned out to be a very cool event.  Granpa did very good!

Hoss was a good ol' Texas boy from Abilene.  He gave up being a high school Algebra teacher there to become an actor!

Do you remember a movie about Adobe Walls?

Yeah, if you like Westerns this is a place you might want to put on your families vacation agenda!

Movie Memorabilia From the 1930's

The very first thing we see, in the parking lot of "Old Tucson," is a Chapman camera boom.  MGM Studios bought it in 1967 and owned it until 1978 when "Old Tucson" bought it.

Old Tucson was built in 1938 by Columbia Pictures for the filming of Arizona.  It was as exact a duplicate of the real Tucson that an 1864 map and photos would allow.  Tohono O'odham Indians were the actual builders hired by Columbia  (That's pretty cool.)

Unbelievably, the next movie was... well, if I was a bettin' woman, I'd bet you five bucks that you would never, ever in a million years guess what the next movie was!  So, I think I'll keep that news to myself for a lil' while.

There were so many projects using the location that there was no time for public tours!  It wasn't open to the public until 1960.


Think of the palm-held video cameras of today.  This monster is what it took to film movies "back in the day."  That camera is so big that it actually makes Granpa look small!!

Old Tucson itself has a fascinating history.  Buildings were built for this movie or that.  A warehouse was constructed to hold wardrobes for various TV series including Little House on the Prairie.  Things were going pretty good around here.

Then, in April, 1995, a frightening disaster befell Old Tucson.  An arsonist set a fire, and one piece of bad luck followed another until half the sets had burned. According to the Old Tucson Wikipedia site, "100 pieces of equipment and over 200 firefighters from every fire department in the Tucson metro area, including Davis Monthan Air Force Base and the Arizona National Guard were used to fight the flames.

"By this point, the wind was out of the west, pushing the fire into the sound stage and west along Kansas Street. Approaches to the fire were restricted by three propane tanks which had vented and were burning. The fire quickly turned into a firestorm with vortices of flames carrying burning shingles and wood throughout the park. Fire control efforts were hampered by high winds. Most of the buildings in the studio were classified as "Temporary Structures," meaning fire prevention devices such as sprinklers were not required. A large propane tank, stashes of black powder used in staging gunfights, and a diesel fuel tank demanded the attention of firefighters and much of the scarce water supply. So much water was used in the attempt to prevent an explosion that the surrounding areas became flooded, further impeding the firefighters as they attempted to wade through the mud. After four hours of firefighting, the flames were extinguished and hot spots located and put out. The loss included all of Kansas Street and Front street to the wash on the east side, the corner store on the west, and the sound stage. The Mission area was destroyed along with the Mission, the Greer Garson house, and the cantina from Rio Lobo. The south end of town and the Silverlake area were not affected. Damages were estimated to be in excess of $10 million ($15 million in 2013), with 25 buildings destroyed. Fortunately, there were no human or animal casualties."

The only piece of (barely) good news was that some of the wardrobe used in Little House on the Prairie had been loaned out to a museum in the city of Tucson and so was saved from the fire.  (Sorry about the glare.)

The rebuild, including "three new streets lined with 12 new buildings, was completed in November 2011 at an estimated cost of $300,000. The design and construction of the new sets was led by Production Designer Gene Rudolf, credited with creating sets for movies including Young Guns II, The Great Gatsby, The Right Stuff, Raging Bull, Marathon Man, and Three Days of the Condor.  The project added dressmaker shops, a general store and a blacksmith, and are part of 'living history' presentations."

Once you have been here you will begin to recognize these sets and the surrounding scenery in tons of films.  The original set for High Chaparral (1966-1971) survived unscathed by the fire.  (Yes, there are stage coach rides, and horseback rides and even a small train ride at Old Tucson today.)

(Tomorrow I'll tell you the name of the second movie ever shot here at Old Tucson.)

"Old Tucson" - Certainly Not What I Was Thinking!

From the very beginning of planning this set of days off, Granpa has been talking about "Old Tucson."  I'm hearing him and putting it on the agenda, but I'm assuming it'll be another trip to a weary looking old downtown with (now) paved streets and tourist traps.

Today is the day we go explore this, and Granpa is excited.  I'm thinking that, if all else fails, we can at least get in a trip through Saguaro National Forest West (because there is a Saguaro National Forest East, too.)

We head west out of Tucson through a mountain pass and into a Saguaro-studded desert.  (Hmm, says I, this is different.)  The mountain pass is gorgeous, as are most in Arizona.  I'm always frustrated because the roads are usually two-lane, and there's no place to pull over for photo ops. Sometimes I try shots from the moving vehicle, but they just don't compare to a stop-n-op.

At least you get to see what a front yard looks like in Tucson ... Lawnmowers need not apply.

You probably can't see it, but this is our first glimpse of what is "Old Tucson."  Follow the wiggly line on the valley floor and try to see the settlement at the end on the left.  Now, imagine that you are on horseback.  This might be what you would have seen coming out of a mountain pass headed for a town in the old west in, say, 1775 when Spanish soldiers founded Presidio San Augustin del Tucson, (or a hundred years later, in a stagecoach.)

That concept visualized is pretty neat all by itself.  

The Saguaro seem to just march inexorably right up the mountain to the absolute top.  They appear to grow right out of the rocks!  These are healthy compared to the ones in the National Park East, but there are no interpretive signs educating you about them.  I scan the tops of all that I can see for a Crested Saguaro that I learned of on our last contract in Kingman, but I find none. (See http://thetravelerstwo.blogspot.com/2013/12/crested-saguaro.html)

I now begin to understand that "Old Tucson" is not old Tucson.  I query Granpa.  "Old Tucson" is a movie set that was built by Hollywood in 1939 to film a movie named Arizona.  (That's the same year Gone With the Wind was released.)  It has been expanded, partially burned down, rebuilt and continues to be a much-sought-after movie set and now, theme "park."  Not a Six Flags or Disneyland, but a theme park nonetheless.

One of my most favorite movies of all time, McLintock, was filmed here.  Knowing that, as I walk the streets of "Old Tucson," I see the locations where the famous John-Wayne-chasing-Maureen-O'Hara segment was shot.

This is a full-size town with complete structures, not just old west facades.  If you could read the directional signs, you would see High Chaparral, Arizona Ruins, Stage 2, Rodeo Arena, and Native Village - and yes, the TV series High Chaparral was filmed here - along with about 400 other movies and TV shows!

Texas Canyon, Arizona

Once out of the mountains and onto the Interstate the sunlight lingers.  There is a rest area halfway back to Casa Grande.  It's known as Texas Canyon because a family from Coleman County, Texas, the Adams family, came here in the 1880's, and soon after they were joined by others from Texas. They are the namesakes of Texas Canyon because, when locals were asked by travelers what was up there, they were told that there were just "a bunch of damned Texans up there."

Before reading this tidbit of information I opined that it was named Texas Canyon because, after hours of driving through flat desert we rose up to this spot which is full of boulders the size of Texas.

Four miles southeast of here at Council Rocks is where the treaty with Cochise and the Apaches was ratified on October 12, 1872.  (Isn't that Columbus Day?  the day we celebrate the white man coming to America?)

Cochise's Stronghold

My!  What a wonderful, unexpectedly great day!  And it's not over yet!  We're turn left onto the loop road headed back to the Interstate.  (Hopefully we will find our way into Cochise's Stronghold before we reach the Interstate.)

Finally, we see a sign. (Not a very impressive one - as if Cochise wasn't so sure he wanted all us easterners to know his secrets).  Granpa hangs a left, and very quickly we run out of pavement.  It is so close to sunset he's not certain he wants to go on, but I urge him forward.  Finally we see an interpretive sign, and I urge him to stop.  (I know, I know.  Women always want men to hurry up and wait.  You'd think we invented the government or something!)

So, I'm out snapping quickies of the sign, and suddenly Granpa is saying, "Pig!  Get a picture of the pig in the road!"  My brain is thinking, pig?  As in pink and squealy? or pig as in wild hogs back home!?  I swing around and snap as quickly as I can with no zoom.  Missed it.  Oh, wow, here comes another. I zoom and focus as fast as I can.

Yes, boss, this is a Javelina!  Officially known as the collard peccary, they apparently weren't around during Cochise's day.  They migrated up from South America in the very late 1800's or early 1900's. Currently they are only found in the USA in Arizona, New Mexico and Texas - but their range is still spreading northwest.  Being tropical in origin they mate year-round and are sexually mature at ten months - which means they have the greatest reproductive potential of all North American "big" game.  But not to worry.  Coyotes and eagles gobble up the babies, and bobcats and mountain lions gorge on the adults, reducing an average lifespan from 24 years in captivity to 7 or 8 in the wild.

We also find deer - which were here during Cochise's time.  This is one advantage of being here toward the end of the day, the wildlife moving.

Cochise was born in these Dragoon Mountains in 1815.  He is supposedly buried somewhere deep in there today.  No one knows for certain.  He was a friend to the white man, until one of them accused him of something he didn't do - and then all hell broke out.  For about a dozen years, from 1860 to 1872, the U.S. Cavalry battled Cochise and his men.  Ultimately, Cochise was forced onto a reservation.

This is Granpa's first picture of the Stronghold.  Buried back in there are secret watering holes and plenty of game to feed a large group of resistance fighters.

We are very quickly losing daylight.  (I refuse to be upset.  I've waited a long time to get here, but Granpa has been so great about this whole crazy day, I refuse to be upset.)

This is a small camping ground, with pit toilets but no showers.  There is a short, paved trail with lots of interpretive signs.

We learn that the Spaniards, who were first through here in 1540 looking for the Seven Cities of Gold, called these mountains "sierra muy penascosa" or very rugged mountains.  They weren't called the Dragoons until some 300 years later - the 1850's.  Dragoons were mounted Mexican or American soldiers armed with rifles - and one of those dragoons is supposedly buried somewhere up there with Cochise!

It's really quite beautiful here.  Serene.  Wish we had a tent!

In 1872, after Cochise's surrender, Captain John A. Sladen came up here with some of Cochise's people.  He finally saw, and understood why, it took a dozen years to uproot Cochise.  It was indeed a perfect fortress with miles of visibility allowing Cochise to see troops coming hours before they could physically get here.  Once here, Cochise had the high ground and every boulder was a protection for his men.  They could stand their ground or, at the very least, provide cover for the women and children as they escaped to the other side of the mountain and vanished.

Deer, antelope, squirrel, cottontail rabbits, oppossum, rats were found in abundance and shared by all the Chiricahua in camp.  Walnuts, acorns, sunflower seeds, mesquite tree beans, yucca fruit and juniper berries were also a staple in the Stronghold diet.  A stream ran through the mountains almost deep enough for a canoe, so water was not a problem.  Golly, even I could live fat and sassy here! Nowadays, of course, a cannon could reduce this to a sandlot in no time at all - not to mention what a few air strikes would do to resisters.

When Cochise died in 1874, he was brought here on his favorite horse.  The horse was killed and thrown into a deep chasm.  Then Cochise's favorite dog was killed and ceremonially thrown in. Finally, Cochise himself, with his favorite weapons, was lowered down with ropes.  No one has yet to find this secret place.

We must go now.  You can tell how reluctant I am.  But it can only get darker, and the things I came to see will be cloaked in the night.  There is a reverence felt about this place.  And that's okay, because great people lived here and great people are buried here.  It is good.

I want to come again.  For sure.

The Echo Canyon Grottoes

Everything we see is utterly amazing.  

The weather is so gorgeous that we decide to take a one mile hike.

This is definitely one place that I could set up camp and spend a whole week in just browsing the scenery.  Every turn brings new wonders.  How could the Grottoes be better than any of this?



In the distance we see a rock formation known as Cochise's Head.  Imagine that he is lying on his back.  See the Roman beaked nose and the signature Apache headband, and, is that a war bonnet he's wearing?  (It works at a glance but gets lost if you stare at it.)  If I were to show you a super-zoomed photo you would see, believe it or not, that the eyelashes are made of trees.


There are balancing rocks everywhere.  There are so many that you will have to come see them all yourself in the context of the rest of the fabulous landscape.  (So much for me doubting the trip here!) The path is delightfully easy and just continues to draw us ever onward.  Granpa has completely forgotten the rest of our plans for this day.

I can just imagine young Apache Indians playing on these trails -- or young lovers like Lillian and Ed Riggs -- or old lovers like Granpa and I.

Come on, Granpa!  You're holding up the parade! (Well, not really, we're practically the only ones on the mountain.)

See how flat the trail is?  It's been like this the whole way.

At last we reach the Grottoes.

Granpa is in hog heaven, as we say in Texas:

The shadows are lengthening, and we still have to get off the mountain, around the loop road, find Cochise's Stronghold, discover his bones and get back to Casa Grande before we tucker out.  We give a couple of shouts into Echo Canyon (and, yes, it is an excellent echo!), and head for the car.

Lillian's "Wonderland of Rocks"

We leave the Visitor Center and begin to work our way up the mountain.  We are now both convinced that this is a trip not wasted!

You see, back in the day, say, twenty-seven million years ago, give or take a millennium, this area erupted at what we now call the Turkey Creek Caldera.  She was a doozy - a thousand times greater than Mount St. Helen's - and she laid the foundation for the marvels we will see today.  Two thousand feet of ash and pumice fused into rhyolitic tuff.  Over the eons, this stuff eroded into something similar to Bryce Canyon, only it's not red sandstone.

Not only is the scenery fantastic (you ain't see nothin' yet!), but this 18-square-mile Monument is the intersection of the "Chihuahuan and Sonoran deserts, the southern Rocky Mountains and the northern Sierra Madre in Mexico. Chiricahua plants and animals represent one of the premier areas for biological diversity in the northern hemisphere."  Things are getting very interesting!




My mercy!  How will I ever decide which photos to share with you !?!  We are positive that this is the largest collection - almost unending - of balancing rocks we've ever seen.

It is only an 8 mile road to the top, but the photo ops cause us to take forever to get there. Environments like this have been dubbed "Islands in the Sky" because they are so unlike the surrounding basins, dubbed "Grassland Seas."  (Can't have an island without a sea, eh?)

Each curve brings more fantastic views, but the very best are at the top. 

We are almost at the very top of this National Monument.  In the distance you see what we will discover later on:  Cochise's Stronghold!  These rhyolite hoodoos put me in mind of the Terra Cotta Army - those clay figures unearthed in China a few years ago.

But there is much, much more to see here...

Faraway Ranch, Arizona

Ah-ha!  There IS a Visitor Center.  It's not large - but it does exist.  I'm beginning to get excited!

The Erickson's first moved into the tiny house in the left of the display case in Bonita Canyon.  The small stone fort was built as a refuge from later threats of Indian raids though Cochise had recently surrendered, so the battle now was mostly between them and Mother Nature.  You can see how the ranch house progressed into the enormous guest house on the right that enveloped the original 1880's home. It was young Hildegarde that turned it into the guest house in 1917, serving meals and lodging to visitors from all over.  Lillian continued serving them until the 1970's.

In 1903, Neil Erickson got a job with the National Park Service, and in 1917 his job took them away. The three children continued with the ranching.  Finally, Lillian and her husband were the only ones left at Faraway.

Lillian and her husband, Ed Riggs, married in 1923.  They would take long walks in Bonita Canyon. According to Lysa Wegman - French author of the National Park Services' Faraway Ranch Special History Study - on one trip "they pushed into ... a tangled, boulder-strewn area impossible for horses to walk through.  There they were amazed to find remarkable rock formations only a short distance for Faraway Ranch."  That's when she dubbed this area the Wonderland of Rocks.

Both Ed and Lillian were college educated and knew how to get the Federal government to set aside this mountain for future generations to appreciate.  Chiricahua National Monument is the result. If you want to take a tour of Faraway, the Park Service interpreters give a five-star walking extravaganza of scenery and information.

Lillian, as a young woman, began to lose her eyesight and her hearing.  By 1942 she was blind.  Even so, every day, Lillian would sit down at her typewriter and record the day's events.  She said, "Just now it seems of small note to record the happenings of the last few days.  Fifty years hence, it may be significant.  If any of the doings of us common folks are ever significant."  Her diary is now in the Library of Congress!

Lillian must also have had a sense of humor.  She would play cards with the guests, but if she was the dealer ... well, her cards were marked in braille.  (What a hoot!)

I was very surprised (but I don't know why:  http://thetravelerstwo.blogspot.com/2013/11/fort-huachuca-arizona.html) to discover that the Buffalo Soldiers of the 10th Cavalry were sent to this area in 1885 to prevent the Chiricahua Apaches from using local water sources, to guard the mail, and to protect settlers and their livestock from raiding Apaches.  While here, the soldiers built a monument to President James Garfield who was assassinated in 1881.  They wrote inscriptions onto some of the stones that were used which Neil Erickson later rescued from souvenir hunters and incorporated the stones into a fireplace he was building.  You can now see those inscriptions when you tour Faraway Ranch.  (Very cool!)

Once again the Lord has blessed our travels with surprise after surprise - and, as usual, His best is yet to come.

Know therefore that the LORD thy God, he is God, the faithful God, which keepeth covenant and mercy with them that love him and keep his commandments to a thousand generations; Deuteronomy 7:9 KJV

Chiricahua National Monument

We've been driving through amber waves of grain for quite a while.  The prairie grass is waist high and as thick as can be.  It's January, but imagine this in another month or two when it might be as green as that bush for as far as you can see!  This would have been heaven for the Apache and their most valuable possession, the horse.

The surrounding mountains are wonderful to look at, so we are never bored.  But I still have that nagging feeling that I have dragged Granpa into a wild goose chase.  There certainly aren't a bunch of folks trying to find this - we've been alone on the road for quite awhile now.

Finally, we find the turn off for the Monument.  Just a couple more miles through the grass sea and I'll know if I have truly messed up Granpa's days off.

Hmmm.  We're at the entrance, but there's no one in attendance - further proof that we may be the only goofballs to try and come here.  We would use our Senior Pass, so they're not losing any money from us, but still.

Just past the entrance is a very small, wrought-iron fenced cemetery.  These were the very first white settlers to attempt ranching here!

Look at those dolls that child has!  

These are the Erickson's.  Emma and Neil married and immediately moved to this area.  Their first child, Lillian, was born at Fort Bowie.  Their other two children, Hildegarde and Ben, were born at a ranch close by.  All but Lillian are buried here.  Lillian grew up and became the "Lady Boss of Faraway Ranch,"and she and her husband continued living at the ranch until the late 1970's.  It was their love and appreciation for this mountain that led to it's becoming a National Monument.  Lillian is resting a few miles west of here in her husband's family cemetery.

(Well, that's encouraging.  If they thought is was pretty enough, their "wonderland of rocks," to create a tourist industry back in the early 1900's - how much traffic could there have been then - perhaps there's something to see here after all!)

We move on, hopeful (especially me!) of seeing something worthwhile.  And we were definitely not disappointed!

A Request for the Bionic Bumblebee Story

Long, long ago, in a faraway time and place we owned the Bionic Bumblebee.  She was a short-wheel base Chevy van that was probably one of the first conversion vans.  Her school-bus-yellow paint job with a wide dark brown stripe around her middle (kinda the reverse color pattern for a bumblebee) is how she got her name. My CB handle, of course, was ... wait for it ... the Queen Bee! The children were small; my oldest son was 6, the middle one was 5, and the wee one was just 2. Their father had left us, but for the time being I still had the Bionic Bumblebee. The interior was yellow and brown shag carpet on the floor, walls and ceiling.  The two front seats were captain chairs, the remainder of the van was custom.  There was a semi-circular, dark brown velour-covered sofa at the back doors with a half-circle foot rest that made the sofa into a double bed.  It could slide out and be replaced with a table.  In between the sofa and captains chairs was an under-the-counter refrigerator, a sink, and overhead cabinets.  S-w-e-e-t!!

It was probably January, and Granma Jo had come to spend the day with us.  Momma and I loved snow, and Oklahoma was scheduled to have a good bit of it.  So, we loaded up the boys and took off for Oklahoma.  It would only take us an hour or so to reach Turner Falls, and if the snow fall as forecast, Turner Falls is always a pretty visit.

The snow did cooperate - along with some ice, well, lots of ice.  I'm a really good, observant driver. Even Granpa's father, Daddy John, thought so, and that was a really great compliment to me! Granma Jo was a superb driver, too, and we had no qualms whatsoever about this adventure.

We got to Turner Falls over a thick coating of ice.  There were a few other folks around.  (See?  We aren't the only snowy nuts around!)  An RV was coming down the large hill/small mountain in the Park and had no problems.  Therefore, I thought I could make it up the same road.  I got up what I thought was enough speed to carry the Bee over the top - but, no-o-o-o!

Three-quarters of the way up we lost forward motion and began a backward slide.  Gently applying the brakes, we stopped.  Release the brake, add a tad of gas, an-n-d, the rear slips toward the edge of the cliff.  Brake on again, repeat the process, same result.  Brake on, release the brake with no gas. Better, but there is no steering the Bee.  Brake on. Amazingly, Granma Jo gets very nervous. I've never seen Granma Jo nervous. That's funny to me.

You see, the very worst thing that could happen is that we sit right here until a tow truck comes.  So, what's the big deal.  But apparently I was the only one that thought of that.

My oldest son walked up to the back of the captain's chairs.  A look in the rear-view mirror exposed the most frightened face he's ever put on.  Eyes the size of saucers!  (I suppose he had reached the age of wisdom.) The middle son had a "what now" kind of expression, and the youngest was simply having a ball running and jumping on the sofa. (Remember, this was a long time ago and there was no requirement for seat belts - in fact, there weren't any in the back of the van.)

Granma Jo and I discuss the possibilities for successful extraction from our predicament.  We had a blanket with us.  Maybe if we spread it out under the back wheels it would give us the traction we needed.  She hops out and, holding to the side of the Bee, attempts to spread it as best she can.

Brake off - and the rear heads for the cliff.  So Granma Jo insists on standing on the cliff side of the Bee and plans to push the Bee back toward the middle of the road. Granma Jo is impossible to stop once she gets something in her head.  (Now you know where I get it :-)  Now I'm very nervous.
In my mind's eye, I see the Bee continuing toward the cliff, but before it goes over - Granma Jo does!!

Larry is still petrified.  Jamie is waiting it out.  Christopher is jumping from window to window following Granma Jo as she moves around the Bee.

Inch by inch, slower than slow, we work our way down the mountain.  The hero of this story, according to her, unequivocally, is Granma Jo.  She will tell you in a heartbeat that she pushed the Bee back onto the road and down to the bottom of the hill all by her lonesome.  If you say so, Momma.  If you say so.

Safely down at the bottom we all decide that we'd had our adventure for the day, and head back home. It really was a memorable day - and I'd do it all over again.  (Really wish cell phones were equipped with cameras back then!  LOL!!)  As a matter of fact, Granpa and I think we'll try to find a snow-topped mountain this weekend.

Miscommunication Continues

This one is on me.  Ever since we were in Tombstone last year, I have wanted to go to Cochise's Stronghold.  I've been perusing the road atlas, and it looks to me like there is actually a road that goes right to it!  Just eyeballing it, I think we can get there, do a quicky tour and get back to Tucson for lunch and then over to Old Tucson before sundown.

Granpa trusts me, so he goes for it.  There is a loop road that exits the Intersate and re-enters the Interstate at almost the same spot.  If we take the second exit we can drop by the Chiricahua National Monument then loop back around to Cochies's Stronghold.  MY mistake was in not getting an actual physical address and putting it into Lil' Miss GPS for a time frame.

We hop on the Interstate and head south and south-er and finally follow the Interstate eastward.  It was noonish before we reached Willcox, left the Interstate and turned onto Hwy 186.  I'm getting a huge knot in my stomach.  What if the Chiricahua National Monument isn't anything more than the Sonoran Desert National Monument we went to last evening?  What if it turns out to just be a pile of rocks and an interpretive sign.  Boy!  Will Granpa be chapped or what!

Suddenly Granpa brakes and hangs a left onto a wide dirt road.  (Am I in trouble??)  Then he points to a mileage sign:  Fort Bowie National Historic Site.  I can't believe it.  Granpa's not only patient, he is thoughtful!  He knows that I would love to see this place, too, regardless of the hands on the clock!
(It occurs to me that youngsters won't even know what "hands on the clock" means because everything is digital these days :-()

Well, I'll try to find some info really quick on my handy-dandy Amazon Fire tablet that we won in a contest with one of our companies.

Hmmm.  Only adobe ruins of the Fort left - and we'd have to hike 1.5 miles to see those.  It's a dirt road, too, that we're on.  It only takes a couple of minutes to decide that the time wasn't worth the trip, so Granpa makes a u-turn and heads back to pavement.  (But he's made a precious impression on me.  Even after almost thirty years he can still make me feel special!)

Spouse Miscommunication? Naaaawwww!

A museum in Scottsdale, Arizona took notice of my blogging about our treks around Arizona, so Granpa decided that we should pay them a visit.  While we're in the area, he says, let's go to Old Tucson.  At least that's what I heard.

So, as the offical housing finder/hotel reservationist, I check out the road atlas and find a nice-sized town between Scottsdale and Tucson.  Casa Grande is right on the interstate, and the price is very right.

Granpa however, when we get there, is a bit miffed.  The long and the short of it is that he thought the museum was in Tucson, so why didn't we get a hotel in Tucson-proper.  It is my opinion that his brain was fixed on Old Tucson and therefore never heard "Scottsdale."

Regardless, we got sidetracked from even those things six ways from the middle, so our whole trip was laughable confusion.  I was very impressed with both Granpa and I for how we muddled through the trip without ever losing patience with each other. First things first I suppose is the best way to share this adventure.

With daylight left, Granpa decides he wants to go west just a tad and check out something he saw on the road atlas:  Sonoran Desert National Monument.  So we begin the drive west on Hwy 84. Remember the word, "Desert."  What we discover are miles of plowed fields with beautiful sprouting green plants.

Then I notice something very familiar along the roadside: it looks exactly like tufts of cotton from cotton fields back home!  THEN I see something I really know!  Cotton bales!!

Cotton?  Really?  Growing in the Sonoran Desert???  Who knew?  Really!  Who knew this and never told anyone!  And when we slow down and look closer, there's even a cotton gin up and running. Behind the gin, I see something I have not seen before.  Round bales of processed cotton.  Very cool.

And not very far down the road at all we see a second thing that surprises both of us:  feed lots jam packed with cattle.  Oh, the stink is unimaginable!  (This is what Ft. Worth, Texas used to be famous for.  Ranchers would bring their cattle to Ft. Worth and pen them in feed lots to fatten them for sale while waiting for trains to take them - or their carcases - to markets north and east.  That's how Ft. Worth got its nickname:  Cow Town.  The feed lots are long gone to more rural areas now but city fathers have clung to the nickname and made a tourist attraction out of it.  Trust me, this smell is not conducive to tourism!)

Cotton fields require a lot of water; Cattle require a lot of water - and there are a whole lot of cows here.  In the desert.  Where there is no water.  I'm also confused by the fact that these all look like Jersey's - dairy cattle - and they take even more water.  (Why would there be so many dairy cattle up for slaughter?  Maybe a cattle rancher or dairy farmer that reads this will be able to tell me.) (Maybe they're not Jerseys?)

So, as you can see, we are well down the path of distraction six ways from the middle...

Beyond these surprises we drive and drive and drive and all we see are Saguaro cactus in the Sonoran Desert National Monument.  We love Saguaro, but we thought there would be more to see like a Visitors Center or something spectacular like the Crested Saguaro.  (See my blog posts, http://thetravelerstwo.blogspot.com/2013/12/crested-saguaro.html and http://thetravelerstwo.blogspot.com/2013/12/saguaro-national-park.html )  They are so cool!  I spend my time checking the tips of all the Saguaro I can lay my eyes on, but nary a one is crested.  Granpa is a bit frustrated, but consoles himself at Golden Corral, and we go back to the hotel.  Praise the Lord for His wisdom and vision:  Tomorrow is a new day!

Greater Roadrunners and Donkeys

We decide to take a quick trip up the ever-scenic road to Oatman.  The only new pictures to share would be those of a couple of roadrunners and some wild burros.  We haven't seen roadrunners in quite a long time. They're pretty shy dudes, and when you do see them they are always, well, on the run!

A member of the New World ground cuckoos, he has a crest of feathers (when he chooses to show them off) on the top of his head.








This is one of the Greater Roadrunners. (There's also a Lesser Roadrunner)  It can outrace a human reaching speeds up to 20 mph. (When I was a lil' girl visiting grandparents in the Texas Panhandle, I tried to catch one.  Not a chance!)

They aren't small birds, either.  From the tip of its beak to the tip of its tail, adult roadrunners will typically be two feet in length.  They are fast enough and big enough to kill rattlesnakes, which is good, because they thrive in harsh landscapes where rattlesnakes like to slither around.

They are elusive, but thriving - even extending their habitat as far as Louisiana and Missouri.  If you've never seen a roadrunner you will instantly recognize it when it streaks along the roadside holding its body parallel to the ground and using its long tail like a rudder.  They're fun to watch!

They can become accustom to having humans in their environment, but I doubt you'd ever catch one.

It's strange to see burros / donkeys walking around wild.  Down in the valley where it is relatively warmer they seem pretty happy.  But up at the top closer to Oatman, they look like they're cold as cucumbers!  Must be the snow ...