Trail Log: 4-6-2024

Old school house. Still contains stuff including a piano and chalk board 

• Trail: Vulture City Ghost Town
• Miles: 5.2
• Riders: Self - Cindy and Dave Crandall
• Horses: Jack - Jimmy - Smoke

Notes: I avoid large group rides for the most part. It can be a cluster on several levels. However, I do have a quirky fondness for riding into abandoned old towns...ghost towns specifically. The owners of the now privately owned ghost town, "Vulture City" - put on a trail ride/BBQ and theatrical performance. 

Vulture city was the larges and most profitable gold mine in Arizona, founded by Henry Wickenburg. It was deemed "non-essential" during WWII and operations ceased. The gold mine today is again actively being worked. The town itself was purchased by some folks from Canada who have painstakingly restored it and turned it into a living museum. Vulture City has been featured on several shows spotlighting the paranormal and it is believed to be haunted. 

I've toured VC many times since moving to Arizona. I always see something new as the owners do a fantastic job of switching things up through new additions and renovations. When they posted this would be their first attempt at putting on a trail ride - I signed up! 

They sent folks out in three groups of 10-15 riders. We opted for the last group. I can't speak for the other groups - but ours was great! The horses were quiet and well mannered. I've never been in a large group where at least one horse didn't lose it's mind and cause a domino of ejected riders. 

It was a fairly short ride at just over 5 miles. After the ride, they fed us BBQ ribs, potato salad and beans. Dave bought Cindy and I a margarita. All margarita's are not created equal. I took a big swig thinking it would be the margarita like experience I'm accustomed to here in the south. My face about fell off. All tequila, no mix.  I didn't want to hurt Dave's feelings so I handed mine back to the bartender (who happened to be the owners) when he wasn't looking and said not to tell anybody I didn't drink it. The lady asked me how it was...I said it was a little strong for my taste. She asked if I had any suggestions; I suggested they might put a little mix in it for the folks that aren't accustomed to drinking straight moonshine with their noon meal. We giggled about it and she blamed her husband, who later tracked me down with a second attempt. I'm happy to report that while still a tad stiff - my face remained intact. 

After lunch - the theatre group: "The Wickenburg Marshals" performed several original scripts and entertained us with music and comedy. I secretly think it would be fun to be in a theatre group. I'm not sure how the audition would go, though: "No...I can't sing. I don't play a musical instrument, sorry. I played the clarinet in the 8th grade but mostly I faked it. No...I can't dance, either." Well Ma'am...what entertainment type talents do you posses? "Hmm....well, after 3 or 4 margarita's I can sing a unique medley of Marty Robbin's classic: Seven Spanish Angels in El Paso. I goes something like this: 

"Out in the West Texas town of El Paso

I fell in love with a Mexican...guy 

Nighttime would find me in Rosa's Cantina

Music would play and Fernando would whirl

One night, a wild young floozy came in

Wild as the West Texas wind...blah...blah..blah blah

In anger, I challenged her right for the love of this Mexican vaquero...blah blah...blah blah blah blah

Down went her hand for the gun that she wore

My challenge was answered in less than a heartbeat

The floozy young stranger lay dead on the floor

Later I got shot and blah blah blah...and then there were these...Seven Spanish Angels

At the Altar of the Sun

They were prayin' for the lovers

In the Valley of the Gun ...blah blah blah...

I think Marty would approve, don't you?

The Desert Gypsy - Tasmanian Devils and Gila monsters

 

5-2-2021: It's been exactly 7 days since I swore if God got me to Aquila with that unwieldy load of arena panels without killing anyone, I'd give up Margarita's for a week. God held up his end and I held up mine. When Grandov's asked where I wanted to go for lunch, I picked Nichols West in Congress. They make one of the best margarita's in the area. So good, in fact...I can't really remember what I had for lunch. I was glad Linda was driving – tequila might not make my clothes fall off...but it sure makes me forget where I put them.

5-3-2021: Fred and Cindy made huge progress on the horse pens/shelter. It looks like it's about ready for tin. It will be nice to have some shade to work under. Although the heat doesn't seem to bother either of them. They never seem to slow down.

I think the guys I hired to "locate" the water line were relieved I'd found and dug it up myself. All they need to do now is put in a junction box, a T and 2 valves. It's something I could do myself but would rather have somebody else to blame if anything goes south. I've learned the necessity of staying one step ahead of Murphy whenever feasible.

5-4-2021: My initial plan when moving to AZ was to put in a modular home and have contractors take care off all the permitting. After checking on the cost of them...I decided to wait it out and stay off the grid. Grandov's sent me the contact information of a guy who is delivering propane to the Aguila area: Tim with Freedom Propane.

Tim came out to check out where to put the propane tank. He brought his four year old son, Charlie, along for the ride. They don't get much cuter than little Charlie. He filled me in on how his aunt lets him ride her horses. He's not sure he really likes riding horses but he thinks maybe he will when he's bigger. He's getting bigger everyday and had a fun time on his last birthday. He likes blue otter pops and thanked me politely when I handed him one out of the freezer.

After Tim and Charlie left, I wandered back to the construction zone to help where I could. I helped Fred hoist sheets of tin on the roof so Cindy didn't have to climb up and down. That girl stayed on that hot roof the entire day. It's a good thing those two are partners – he couldn't afford her otherwise.

They say if you want it to rain, wash your car. Similar thing goes with wind and roofing. If you want the wind to blow – start hucking metal over your head onto a roof. We would no more than get a few sheets up on the roof when a Tasmanian dirt devil would start building and winding it's way straight toward us. One especially large twister had Cindy sprawled over three sheets of tin while Fred grabbed for two others trying to commit suicide over the roof edge. The dirt devil – unhappy with his foiled plans of wreaking havoc on the roofers – picked a single sheet of tin off the trailer – tossed it in the air and set it down on the ground beside the flatbed without a scratch. At least that's something.

I'm thinking I did not miss my calling by not becoming a roofer. Heaving heavy sheets of metal over your head requires muscles I didn't know existed. I preferred running the tractor. I'm definitely way better at tractor operation than hucking tin. Tractoring takes less muscle and Ibuprofen at the end of the day.

5-6-2021: I decided to give Fred and Cindy a break from my self-perceived helpfulness. Fearing I'm more in the way than actually providing any real semblance of "help" – I try to limit my assistance to cleaning up scrap pipe ends, holding down things that shouldn't move, moving things that should and attaching myself to the dumb end of the tape measure. Enter: Cousin Phil.

I had messaged Cousin Phil and asked if he was still in AZ or headed North. He responded that he was in town for a few more days. Phil had moved south with his daughter and son in law. They live just up the road in Forepaugh. With most of the Snowbirds gone, I had guessed right by assuming he was bored and ready to do some exploring. I invited him to check out Vulture City;. A restored old mining town built in 1863 and touted as Arizona's richest gold mine. Current day – Vulture City can be found featured on paranormal TV shows such as: Haunted Case Files.

This was my third trip to Vulture City. The restoration has progressed nicely with each visit. I see something different each time. We didn't see any ghosts– but I did spot the biggest lizard I've seen outside of The Yucatan Peninsula: A Gila Monster. Not the most attractive creature on the planet but kind of cool looking all the same. After spotting my Gila Monster – I heard on the radio that Gila sightings...normally very rare - are occurring with more frequency as of late. Some cultures believe increased Gila sightings mean the monsoon's will be strong! I sure hope so – it's drier than a popcorn fart out there.

By the time Phil and I got back to Aguila – the mare motel was complete. It might be the most beautiful thing I've seen since Gerard Butler in 300. Well...maybe not Leonidas beautiful...but nice all the same.

After watching the structure go up each day, I knew it was well built and square to a gnats ass. That was no surprise. What made me smile was finishing touches like the horse shoe gate latches and halter hooks. My horses may not appreciate the time and skill Fred and Cindy put into that thing – but I certainly do. I know they will be safe, secure and comfortable and that means more to me than all the Spartans in Greece.

The Pumpkin Cheesecake Diaries - 1-21-2020

Brothels, Babblers and Banshees

Grey skies and a steady rain put the kibosh on our plans to ride to the box canyon. Flash flooding is a real concern in this part of the country. Facing a wall of rolling flood waters in a canyon with no way out can ruin your day in a hurry. Lynn, Peter and I, stood in the garage door looking out at the rain. Maybe if we stare at it long enough, it will stop. We could set up a drill and do some shooting. We could...but nobody seemed real motivated to step out from under the roof of that garage.

I had an idea. Dave and Cindy had shared a pile of information pamphlets on places and things of interest in the area when I first arrived. Vulture City Ghost mining town had my name written all over it. Lynn was not nearly as excited about it. She had watched a You Tube video that showed the place infested with rats. I was convinced the video was staged (at least I convinced Lynn of that) and the Walter family and their new Gypsy Vagabond friend piled into the Tacoma headed for Vulture City.

The town was left to ruin after WWII. In 2017, owners Prat and Moriarty began restoring the historical buildings, opening it up to tours, celebrity ghost hunts and special events. It has been featured in the paranormal show American Ghost Story on television.

We were given the self tour group discount. Pete purchased a Vulture City ball cap, picked up an information map and we were off. We did not need a guided tour. We had Pete. We wandered through displays of iron mining equipment before entering the actual town. Huge iron bolts, pistons...pulleys and gears formed the makings of essential mining equipment from a by-gone era. Pete has an uncanny ability to look them over – run his hands over the workings and tell you precisely what the thing was used for – before reading the description plague. I wanted to get our $12.50 back and give it to Pete.

They have done a wonderful job of staging the old buildings in the town with authentic period props. An assessors office – a kitchen and bar – a bunkhouse and a work shop. A wedding chapel and mortuary sit kitty corner to the blacksmith...just in case that shotgun wedding goes a little south. The brothel and doctors office are located in the same building for your convenience. I wonder which you visit first before going to the next?

I was standing behind a rope looking in at a dining room/kitchen. A porcelain wash basin, wooden table and chairs and cupboards lined with dusty cans of pantry items displayed as if the occupants had simply walked away 100 years ago. Then I heard it. Sweeping sounds from the room above the studio. Dust filtered down through cracks in the ceiling. I looked around for the others. I was alone. The sweeping continued. I peeked around the corner at the rickety staircase leading to the room above. There was no “keep out” sign. I took a step...the sweeping stopped. I stepped back down. Maybe I'll go find Lynn, Pete and Scott. I'm sure they would want to see this. As I backed out of the room, noise intensified. The sounds of furniture being dragged across the floor echoed eerily down the staircase. Yeah...I think the others will want to see this.

Where did they go? I searched the blacksmith shop, the kitchen and bar and the mortuary before

finding them taking Pete's picture with “Anita” from the brothel. Figures! I drug them back to the studio room. I wasn't scared or anything...It was for their benefit too. Really. I didn't want to have ALL the fun. Lynn wasn't so sure but since she hadn't seen or heard rats as of yet, she was willing to climb the stairs and check it out.

I half expected to find the room empty. My cynical side assumed it was staged for the benefit of tourist. We would climb the stairs and the “ghost” would step behind a false wall hidden from view...leaving the unsuspecting tourist to run screaming out of the building.

I peered around the corner into the attic “Hello....any ghosts up here?” My first sighting was of a hooded man standing in a corner with his back to me. A bit of a heart stopping Blair Witch moment passed over me. Holy shit – these guys are good! Our ghost turned around and introduced himself not by name but as the carpenter renovating the attic. He said he was just cleaning up after himself. Whatever...I still think it was staged and if it wasn't...they so need to add that to their ghostly tour experience because it could not have been more perfect.

I learned many interesting things about life in Vulture City during it's hay day. As we finished up our tour, I learned more about Peter's life as well. When we came to the work shop, he pointed out the different tools he used when helping his dad put on a roof. Before long, I noticed I was understanding more and more of his way of communication. It reminded me of an experience years ago in an Oregon Trail Interpretive Center outside Baker City. A Buffalo Bill impersonator was telling a story using Native American sign language as he spoke the words. Some time in to the story – without realizing it, he had stopped speaking and was using sign language only...and you understood every part of the story without realizing it.

I came to the realization that humans use far too many fluffy filler words to communicate. It has occurred to me how few words it takes to relay an entire thought or feeling. There is nothing wrong with that, I guess. It's OK to tell someone you love them to the moon and back...more than there are stars in the sky and on and on and on. For me, I've come to discover the simple gesture of interlocking index fingers in the sign for “friends” can leave a bigger impact on a heart than all the words under the stars.