caver scotts thoughts: March 2006

"Head out on that hi-way, looking for adventure, in what ever come our way, yeah we gotta go out and make it happen" Traveling north on I-17, we left Phoenix at a crack and a half past dawn, fully fed and ready for an adventure. Passing by so many interesting named locations, such as "Wool Growers, Bates and Grassy Mountain Windmill's". Our path cut through the winding Black Hills near Pinto Mesa and Copper Canyon. It was near here that we hooked an East onto State Hiway 260. As we crossed the great Wingfield Mesa we then turned south, heading into the heart of the Cottonwood Basin. Following "Fossil Creek Road" we left the Mesa's 3229' elevation and were forced to shift into 4 wheeled drive as we started the deep descent. The road quickly turned from dirt into a series of impassable ruts. It was here that carefully placed rocks pulled from the cliff walls would allow us to pass, although men of sanity would have turned back. If this landscape was shouting go back then we must have had the stereo to loud.With each turn of the road we sat in amassment at the topography, from sheer cliffs to rolling hills on the valley floor. A mixture of Painted Desert and Grand Canyon meeting the sky. About 20 miles back we came to a junction marked with a sign from the 1930's. To the south lay the "road" to "Child's Powerhouse" and the one towards the northeast would take us to the "Irving Powerhouse,” which was also the way to the town of Strawberry. We hoped the map; the road and the 4-wheel drive rental would get us there, but then again there had been many rockslides covering parts of the road. One still held in its rocky grasp an old truck pinned against a tree. Its owner, long since given up retrieving it. We knew that once to Strawberry we would only be 23 miles to our end game destination. But first, we'd need to climb over 8000' to crest this valley.So, we decided to go check out Child's first, heading the completely opposite direction. We ended up running parallel with a lot of river access; the beautiful Fossil Creek carving deep into the varying strata exposing millions of years of its journey. This place oozed history yet we could never find the powerhouse. After an hour we lost enough road to go forward, what remained amounted to a path that I wouldn't have walked on, the rest lay about 100' below, the river already pushing it relentlessly to the sea. We turned back and soon came to the junction again.About thirteen more miles were painfully put behind us, traversing over fallen trees and twice having to push boulders out of the way with the front bumper, which we had latched a piece of iron pipe to in order to minimize the damage. Soon we saw the main Fossil Creek Bridge, and though we were wickedly tired we stopped and walked out on to it. Mainly to check for safety our spirits lifted upon viewing the deep green water rushing below us. Deep pools, small falls, and rushing rapids were all there for the viewing. We spent some time under the bridge to attempt to green light our travel across it since it creaked as we walked on it. Danny walked in front of me as I drove slowly over the dilapidated structure, weaving the vehicle back and forth so the tires would have something to touch. The only thing we were missing would have been a set of those red flags used to guide planes into their berth. At one point a section about 15' of the side rail fell, landing with a crash and a splash into the river below. We both froze with saucer-sized eyes, heart rates double the norm, but still in the game. I slowly tapped the gas and felt the tires digging in to the mud that had been deposited on top of this bridge so many years ago. Pieces of the bridges road top started to crumble and I knew it was now or never. I switched back to 4-wheel low and floored it. Just as the passenger rear tire begin to drop towards the river the other three tires pulled it up and out, ending us on the other side of the bridge. I got out and we both walked over and stared at a sign posted on our side, it read that this bridge was condemned and unsuitable for even foot traffic. It was about then that we saw a sign across this termite infested hull-laying face down in the grasses. Neither wanted to read it, but both agreed it was an exact copy of the one on our side. No turning back now, those 8000' worth of switchbacks ahead better be in decent shape.We began to rise up, winding thru roads built in 1910 yet not repaired since 1950. With each switchback the cliff grew deeper and deeper. Soon we hit snowdrifts in full sun. Then, we'd drop slightly back into canyons such as Hackberry and Doren's Defeat. We could often see Fossil Creek below, thousands of feet down it looked like a small blue ribbon winding in the canyon it cut so many years ago.The Creek ran between the Buckskin Hills and Deadmans Mesa. It was as beautiful as our own God's Bath and Stanislaus River Canyons. Hours past, mud flew, and our rise out of the canyon was at first uneventful. Then we rounded a sharp corner and saw a huge truck, sitting in the middle of the road, and there wasn't anyone in it. We stopped, shut off the engine and started walking up, and past the truck. About a quarter mile up we found the driver, he was shocked to see us because for the better part of his day he had been guiding a huge crane down the canyon, and we had not past them. It was here that we began to learn the history of the powerhouses. Build in 1910 the Irving system diverted water 29 miles upstream and ran it through a system of flumes that ran along the northern side of the canyon. The mountain range it had been install on was named the Cimarron Hills and that water was dumped down into the turbines that made the power. From there it returned into another flume that had ran down to Child's, and when it exited there it was retained in a lake known as "Stehr Lake". We remembered seeing what appeared to be a drying up lake back where the road had tumbled into the river. The bottom line of the entire situation was that the "Enviro" mental's had sued and won their case to have the entire project torn down and returned to the way it was. This was won based on the fact that three non-native fish species had gotten into the river. We were told by the truck driver that in its hay day there were 50 people living in this oasis, complete with a schoolhouse. In fact, his wife had lived there since she was a child and her father had help construct the project. Soon the still diverted water will flood this canyon, yes, flood it because they had been using 80% of it to make into electricity and once they stop the diversion the water flow into this canyon will increase, well, 80%. This is predicted to draw tens of thousands of white water rats into the canyon. Increasing from the 8 or 9 a week that go there now. We talked for about an hour then figured out how to get our jeep out of the way of their truck and crane. Running the jeep's driver side off the road on the canyon side where it looked to be stable did this. Once past us we started again up the mesa with the Cimarron Hills across the canyon. It is here that the canyon walls began to show their own Grand Canyon type formations and colors, sadly the river would soon start to rip away at the long-standing natural beauty. It seemed so wrong that the one's who did protect it will now give up the stewardship to those who will learn they did more damage than good.Soon, we crested the mesa and the road became paved. Minutes later we found the town of Strawberry and stopped for food. 23 miles later we turned off Hiway 87 and descended down a 9% grade to our final destination, the Tonto Natural Bridge. It is believed to be the largest natural Travertine Bridge in the world. Think Natural Bridges in Calavaras County times 4. It was a wonder to behold. At 183' tall, 150' wide and 400' long it took 3 rolls of film to quench my wonder. David Gowan discovered it in 1877 as Apaches were chasing him. He hid for two days in one of several caves that dot the inside of the bridge. According to the ranger we learned that the west side of Pine Creek had been formed by a flow of Rhyolite. This rock was eroded, leaving behind purple quartz sandstone. The rock layers were then lilhified, titled, and faulted. Then the area was covered by seawater, which left behind silt and mud. Volcanic eruptions then covered these rock and sediment layers with lava, forming a basalt cap. It was quite the site and well worth what we went through to get there. From here we had 109 mile trip to get back to Scottsdale, and that trip, is a story for next time!