Lost Dutchman State Park, Tonto Natural Bridge, Strawberry, Camp Verde, Montezuma Castle, Montezuma Well, Cottonwood, Dead Horse Ranch State Park
March 21 – 24, 2023
As I neared Lost Dutchman State Park in the early afternoon, heavy rain started to fall so I decided to treat myself to a meal at a Mexican restaurant in Apache Junction. The restaurant was full and noisy with families and lots of imbibing retirees so I took a table out on the quiet covered patio and enjoyed my meal and margarita as rain pelted down on the courtyard stones and thunder rumbled. The restaurant had wifi so I began a blog post to describe the start of my journey to Arizona, and I finished the post in several sessions at the wonderful Apache Junction public library over the course of the day and on the following day as the rain came and went. (https://christineswalkabout.com/2023/03/22/arizona-road-trip-2023-sitting-out-the-rain-in-apache-junction-and-looking-back-to-the-start/)
By early afternoon on my second day, the rain and clouds began to clear so I took my chance to do one of the many hikes at Lost Dutchman. I decided on the Treasure Loop trail that led towards the base of the Superstition Mountains.
It was a fun trail! The climb was gradual but steady, with great views in all directions, and at a junction I opted to head left towards a small saddle and the “Needles”.
An unnamed trail from here continued past the rock pinnacles and around to cut across the the mountainside, with far-reaching views to the east.
I imagined that the Lost Dutchman himself, as well as many of the treasure hunters who have long searched for his hidden mine and reputed caches of gold, might have walked this exact trail, their pack mules laden with tools and boxes of supplies. Looking out at this view, I thought that perhaps they weren’t here just for the gold.
By the time that I turned and began my return journey on the trail, the sun was finally winning its two-day battle with the clouds, and the sky was happy to show its brightest blue colours. What a wonderful hike and a glorious place! I headed back to camp for dinner but my nearest neighbour was disturbing the peace (again!) by running his generator (they should be banned from all campsites in my opinion), so I drove to one of the park’s picnic areas and found myself a perfect little spot to cook, eat, rest, and continue to admire the stunning views of Lost Dutchman State Park.
Then next morning dawned clear and bright and I began my drive to the high country, heading northeast along the very scenic N. Bush Memorial Highway. I stopped at several of the recreation sites that are located beside the beautiful Salt River, hoping to catch a glimpse of one of the small herds of wild horses that are often seen here. I was not lucky with the horses, but I was thrilled with a later section of the highway, several miles long, that passed low hills completely covered with bright golden poppies.
I next took State Route 87 which headed due north and climbed steadily to the town of Payson, located at an elevation of 5,000 feet. Clouds had been gathering, and as I drove through town a mix of rain and snow began to fall. By the time I reached the access road to the Tonto Natural Bridge State Park, some fourteen miles later, the sky had cleared again to a mix of blue dotted with dramatic thunder clouds, tall and bright white with dark underbellies. I stopped for a moment before beginning to descend the steep and winding 18 percent grade road. Tucked into a deep V-shaped valley, the Tonto Natural Bridge is believed to be the largest natural travertine bridge in the world at 183 feet high, 150 feet wide, and with a tunnel that is over 400 feet long. The bottom left photo below shows the view from standing atop the natural bridge and looking down to Pine Creek that was raging with recent rains. Several of the creek-side trails that I had planned to hike were closed due to flooding, but luckily the Gowan Trail leading down to the metal bridge above the creek was still open for views into the tunnel.
I enjoyed my brief visit, with a chance to stretch my legs and breathe the fresh mountain air in this area of Ponderosa pines, and next I drove to the small town of Strawberry to view the oldest one-room schoolhouse in Arizona, built in 1885. It was very cold and windy when I stepped out to photograph the school and peek into its windows, and by the third click of my shutter light flakes of snow had begun to fall. I continued my trip northwards and encountered more snow as the road rose steadily to a pass at almost 6000 feet.
Thankfully the snow stopped soon after the pass as the road began its long descent to the Verde River Valley and the town of Camp Verde, located at an elevation of 3100 feet. The Verde River, normally a placid, clear ribbon of blue-green, was a wide and rushing tumult of red water, laden with silt and filled with broken branches and uprooted trees. The river had been on a a flood-watch warning for days and had flooded its banks the day before my arrival.
I had planned to camp for two nights at Clear Creek Campground, a first-come first-served forest service site just outside of town. But, like the Verde River, Clear Creek was rushing wide, high, fast, and not at all clear! The road in was thick with slippery red mud, there was only one trailer parked in the campground, and more rain was predicted for the night so it was an easy decision to not stay there. I stopped in to the Visitor Centre in Camp Verde and then the public library to explore other options and was able to book a site at Dead Horse Ranch State park for the following night but not this night so I decided to camp stealth in town in a hotel parking lot. I checked out the three possibilities, made my best choice, shopped for groceries and an easy dinner, and then drove back to the library and its adjacent riverside park where I ate my dinner sitting in the driver’s seat, out of the cold wind. Luckily the library was open until 7 so I charged up my electronics and reading lights, blogged, researched the days ahead, and browsed the Arizona natural history section of the library. When I exited at 7 p.m., the rain had started and was soon pelting down. I read for an hour in the car, and then headed to the hotel parking lot where I discreetly put up my interior window covers, closing myself into my hidden abode. I doubted that anyone would be out checking the parking lot on such a wet, windy and cold night, and I settled happily into my sleeping bag, thankful to be warm, safe and dry.
The next morning dawned wonderfully bright and clear. I rose early, drove to Camp Verde’s riverside park to walk and prepare my breakfast, and then headed to Montezuma Castle National Monument, a cliff-side dwelling built by the Southern Sinagua in the late 12th century and occupied until the mid 1400s. Descendants of the Hohokam who migrated here from southern and central Arizona between 700 and 900 CE, the Sinagua were hunters and farmers who grew corn, beans, squash and cotton using irrigation canals. Their first homes were one-room pit houses built on terraces above their fields, but by 1150 they had begun to build large stone pueblos on hilltops and in cliff alcoves like at Montezuma Castle and Tonto National Monument. The site was strikingly beautiful as were the tall white Arizona sycamores that lined the path below the cliff dwelling.
The riverside trail was closed due to flooding, but the Visitor Centre museum was excellent and I spent almost two hours here learning about the Sinagua culture. One particularly beautiful artefact was an etched shell. Artisans would cover a shell, obtained through trade networks, with lac, a resinous substance derived from insects. They would scratch away some of the lac to create a design, and then soak the shell in an acidic solution made of saguaro fruit juice. The solution would dissolve a layer of the exposed shell to create the etching, and then the rest of the lac would be removed. Ingenious!
From Montezuma Castle I drove about fifteen miles to arrive at the Montezuma Well, a geological wonder and a very sacred and beautiful place. I climbed the path up to a viewing platform and my first sight was of the remains of 12th century dwellings that were built into the cliffs, high above the well, by the Sinagua.
And then I saw the well itself. It is a limestone sink, formed long ago, that is fed by continuously flowing springs. Two vents at the bottom of the well release about 1.6 million gallons of water every day, even during times of drought, and there is an outflow through a tunnel that transports the water through the travertine hillside and down to Beaver Creek and also to an ancient canal that was built by the Sinagua farmers. About ten percent of the well’s water is replaced daily, and the well maintains a constant water level and temperature.
The water contains very high levels of dissolved carbon dioxide as well as some arsenic which makes life impossible for fish, amphibians, and most aquatic insects, but some species are able to survive the conditions including five specially adapted types of creatures that live here and nowhere else on earth – a shrimp-like amphipod, a tiny snail, a leech and water scorpion (the predators), and a type of diatom. A trail descended below the clifftop for closer views of the placid pool and its surrounding plant life,
and another trail led along the cliff top for more views below of the well and its outlet area. It was a very peaceful place and I loved my visit here.
From Montezuma Well, I drove to the Dead Horse Ranch State Park located beside the Verde River on the outskirts of Cottonwood. I was happy with my site which was fairly private and high up on a hill overlooking the valley. I ate a simple lunch and then decided to head into town for a swim at the local community centre indoor pool. It was quiet in the pool at 2 p.m., with the kids still in school, but there was one homeschooler, ten year old Jessie, who was determined to have me be his playmate. We had lots of fun going down the water slide multiple times and playing chase games in the lazy river until two other children arrived and I was free to say goodbye and adjourn to the lap pool to swim with the much-less rambunctious retirees. After my swim, I stopped in at the nearby library to research Sedona-area hikes and I marvelled at the excellent facilities available to residents in this not-very-big town. Here’s a photo of the wonderful library for my teacher- and book-loving friends. 🙂
Relaxed, happy, and hungry after my swim I drove to the historic main street of Cottonwood Old Town. Popular with tourists, this part of town features several small museums and many antique stores, gift shops, wine bars, craft breweries, and restaurants. I enjoyed a fun browse through the cleanest second-hand shop I have ever been in,
and then I decided to treat myself to a veggie burger and fries at Bing’s Burger Bar, a groovy 50’s style diner housed in an old gas station. It was a fun place and a tasty meal at a reasonable price,
and when I got back to camp I was so glad to not have to cook because it was very very c-c-c-cold and windy up on my hill. I took a quick walk around the campground, all bundled up, as the sun set over the snow-covered mountains to the west.
It had been a wonderful day in the high country and I was more than ready for a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow, after many years of wishing, I would finally travel to Sedona to hike its stunning red rock country. Good night sky, good night moon, good night Earth, and blessings upon all.
