Red Rock Canyon to Pinos Altos. Winter 1999 trip, Part 4.

Jan. 20, 1999 - Barb took the day off from work and we ventured west to Red Rock Canyon. Red Rock is a very beautiful place with so many different rock formations to gaze at or scramble over. Not many folks were around that morning so we had plenty of elbow room to scurry about the sandstone, taking snapshots as we went along.

The Red Rock area is linked by a 13-mile paved loop from which dozens of trails radiate out. Some are easy to negotiate, and some are knarly treks for which only the stout and seasoned should dare to tread. Some delve into valleys farther up the mountain, some wind about on the desert floor.

Barb was game to push her white Jeep up a very rocky road. I became painfully aware of my bladder as we jostled about the rocks. We went about a quarter-of-mile before turning back. That little Jeep sure could handle the punishment, Barb too.

We continued along the paved road, coming down into the desert. Barb and I jumped out and investigated a trail, which snaked into a little valley. To my surprise we came upon a little creek with pine trees growing alongside. There was a wooden bridge that crossed the creek with picnic tables nearby. Such a quiet, peaceful place only minutes from urban sprawl. Upper class developments were inching their way westward with only this park and a ranch or two standing in its way. It reminds me of El Paso with its subdivisions running up the foothills of the Franklin Mountains.

Famished we sought out a lunch buffet at an Indian restaurant called Gandhi's Indian Cuisine not too far from the Strip. It was very good food, heavy on potato dishes and the dal soup was heaven.

That evening we hooked up with Al and had dinner at a Mexican restaurant. I had a cheese tamale which made for good comfort food. That night, winds coming down from the mountains blew in a ton of dust. You could smell it, a chalky ether that insinuated its way into the house and dried the nostrils.

Jan. 21 - I left at midnight bound for Phoenix via Flagstaff. I hoped off the bus to score a map and a PowerBar at Williams and it was downright chilly as pebbly snow blew about in the cold night air. Flagstaff was just as cold with just a hint of snow on the ground.

Coming down from the pine covered mountains we left behind the chill and embraced the warmth of the saguaro-dotted desert. The sprawl of Phoenix came upon us soon enough. I opted to hop off the bus at Glendale, thus avoiding the crowded scene at the bus station near the airport.

Armed with a bus map I rode the city bus for about a half-hour and was deposited only a few blocks away from Karen & Andy's.

I made myself at home, then ran out for fixings for supper. That night we hung out at home.

Jan. 22 - Andy and I went up to Roosevelt Lake, a reservoir northeast of town. It was a nice little spot, kinda reminded me of the Lake Powell scenes in Planet of the Apes, but in a much smaller scale. Afterwards we drove into Phoenix to have lunch at Bank One Ballpark.

The ballpark has a Friday's restaurant in an outfield upper deck and we settled into seats which afforded us a great view of the stadium. Unfortunately we happened upon trial heats for a motocross race being held the next day. So not only was the field covered in heaps of dirt, but conversation was rendered impossible by the drone of engines. We endured four heats, speaking only in between. All in all a very surreal experience for a ballpark trip, not unlike watching the Village People at Sec Taylor Stadium.

That night we ate at home and afterwards Andy, Karen and I went to see There's Something About Mary.

Jan. 23 - We left for New Mexico but not before scoring breakfast at a nearby Waffle House. Waffle House is a restaurant chain from the South which I had the pleasure of eating at when I traveled to New Orleans many years back. It's pretty basic stuff but way beyond the fast food breakfast dreck of McDonald's or Burger King. It's where I first cut my teeth eating grits with eggs and not just as a single dish, like Cream of Wheat or Malt-o-Meal.

After breakfast we negotiated the endless miles of urban freeway to get from the north end of Phoenix down south and east through Tempe and Mesa and on until we left the sprawl behind. We traveled on and up into the mountainous terrain of the city of Globe. Mining of one sort or another has been going on here since the 1870s. Globe is still a mining town, but tourism is making inroads.

Past Globe we came down into the desert vistas of the San Carlos Indian Reservation and on through the Gila River valley past fields of cotton and through the little farming burgs hugging the river.

After passing through Safford, the largest town in the valley, we took a turn north to venture into more rugged rolling landscapes looking for a high mountain pass into New Mexico that was highly recommended by Jim.

Off the U.S. highway we went northeast up a little state road that s-curved and hairpinned it's way up the San Francisco Mountains culminating in a high pass surrounded by pines. It was a very memorable trip up. We stopped twice, once to take some pics of the mountains on the Arizona side, and once to take a piss break at a campsite nestled in the pines at the top.

Going up the pass we left behind the scrubby desert landscape and encountered a lush forest dominated by Ponderosa pines. Coming down into New Mexico we roll into high grasslands dotted here and there with juniper.

We found Raul at home in his trailer on the outskirts of the sleepy little town of Pinos Altos on the edge of the Gila Wilderness. Raul's backyard is the wilderness itself: mountains and forests stretching on to the east undisturbed for a hundred plus miles.

Karen and Andy stayed overnight in downtown Silver City at the Palace Hotel, a quaint affordable bed and breakfast. We were quite surprised by the comfortable quarters. Karen and Andy had found a small bedroom with bath and we talked for awhile. They were both lying on the bed when a bed slat gave way and down came the mattress and box spring. Andy went to talk to management while Karen scurried about looking at the other suites available. Eventually they settled on a roomier suite and Raul and I left and went about our business. We found out later that Karen and Andy had changed suites again when they found that they had no cable TV. We gave them appropriate grief over that.

Raul and I spent the night up in the trailer. Raul built a fire and we had Speyburn scotch and lit a couple of my Vegas cigars. The night passed uneventfully except for one point in the wee hours when I was moaning and hollering in a dream and was awakened by Raul yelling from the bedroom, "Aw shut the hell up!"