June 7, Torc Waterfall to the Black Valley, 16 km, 430 m
The Kerry Way is Ireland’s longest way-marked National Trail at over 200km, and also one of its most popular for its spectacular scenery as it loops around the Iveragh Peninsula. My plan was to do a section of the trail, 77 km from Killarney to Cahersiveen. I had already done the first 6 km from Killarney to Torc Waterfall and now I set out to do the 16 km stage from Torc Waterfall to the Black Valley. I was able to travel by bus to the waterfall and I knew that once I arrived I would immediately have to climb up past the waterfall on over 260 stone steps – my first challenge with my overly-loaded big pack on my back!
It wasn’t so bad! The Kerry Way then continued steadily upwards on a wide road through a deciduous forest bursting with green. The shade was welcome on what was already proving to be another warm and sunny day.
After the section of forest, the views opened up!
The road continued to rise, more gently now, and it was exciting to see it stretch out far ahead in the distance. More amazing countryside to see!
There were fabulous views in all directions, both near and far.
Later the road dwindled out into a trail that rose to pass over several expanses of blanket bog, with the walking made easy by narrow boardwalks. I did get slightly wet knees from getting down low to photograph tiny bog orchids, cotton grass, and purple thistle.
There were some descents into gullies, thick with mature oaks, deep moss, and bracken,
and there were crossings over small rivers and streams, some with gentle waterfalls. Almost all of today’s walk on the Kerry Way is within Killarney National Park. Thank goodness all of this land, including its large tracts of ancient woodlands, is being protected and conserved for the future.
After several hours of very happy walking, the Kerry Way came to a T-junction at an old road where one chooses whether to walk the rest of the Kerry Way in a clockwise or anti clockwise loop. I turned right, the shorter path to my eventual destination of Cahersiveen. What a view looking forward!
I was now heading towards Killarney’s Upper Lake but before reaching it I would need to walk several more kilometres to where the Kerry Way crosses the N71 Ring of Kerry road at Galway’s Bridge, with the Derrycunihy Church nearby.
After crossing the N71 the trail descended on a steep rocky path to arrive at and pass through a small forest of very large, very old oak trees.
There were tiny glimpses between the trees of the lake below and then finally an open view of the far western end of Killarney’s Upper Lake.
After another kilometre or two through an open grassy heathland,
the path descended to lake level but stayed some distance from the shore. It was so fun to see the tree-covered islands and surrounding mountains that I had passed by the day before on my Gap of Dunloe boat trip.
The path left the lake behind and continued across a beautiful wide field, headed towards Lord Brandon’s cottage.
The cafe there was nearly empty of visitors, a far cry from the day before where it had been full of people who had just disembarked from the tour boats and were about to board jaunting cars to travel through the Gap of Dunloe, or who, like me, had just traversed the Gap and were about to embark on the boats. There was time to have a leisurely early supper at the cafe as the dinner provided at my very nice accommodation in the Black Valley was on the pricey side. Restored and rejuvenated, and very very happy with the my first real day on the Kerry Way, I hefted up my big pack (now seemingly heavier!) to walk the last two kilometres along a quiet paved road to my accommodation in the Black Valley. The scenery today had been nothing short of spectacular and I was excited to see what the next days five days of walking would bring!
On my third day in Killarney I headed off on a three kilometre walk to visit Ross Castle on the shore of Lough Leane. I took a path through a lovely meadow where I saw a herd of Sika deer grazing. Sika deer were brought into the area in the 19th century and are considered invasive as they can overgraze and destroy native woodlands.
A little further along, I saw two other deer that I thought might be the native Red Deer as they were larger and had darker coats, but I’m not sure!
This one was certainly a Sika deer and she looks like she may be pregnant. A few moments later, on the other side of the path, I saw a mother and her very young fawn but they quickly disappeared into the forest.
I soon noticed that I was walking through a “wet woodland” that I had learned about in the Killarney House interpretive centre. This ecosystem on the Lough Leane floodplain is dominated by alder trees and also supports ash, birch, and willow trees as well as thick areas of rushes, sedges, and grasses. I also saw many foxgloves, and yellow flag irises which are very beautiful but also very invasive. Also invasive throughout Killarney National Park are rhododendrons which thrive here in Kerry and outcompete native plants. Extensive conservation efforts are undertaken to eradicate them but it is a huge challenge.
Soon I arrived at Ross Castle and I headed to the stone pier of the Killarney Rowing Club to photograph the castle from across a small bay.
My plan was to do the 4.5 kilometre hike on the Ross Castle peninsula which would pass by a 4000 year old copper mine, as well as other points of interest, but on impulse I decided that I wanted to do a boat trip to Innisfallen Island instead.
The trip was not on my itinerary but the lake was so beautiful that suddenly fifteen Euro did not seem like too much to pay for a boat ride across the deep blue water to visit Lough Leane’s largest island and the ruins of Innisfallen Abbey. I was the only guest on the boat and the twenty minute ride out was wonderful with lake, island, and mountain views all around.
All too soon we were docking at Innisfallen, directly in front of the Abbey.
Innisfallen Abbey was founded on the island in 640 by Saint Finian and was known as a great centre of learning. Lough Leane means “Lake of Learning” and it is said that the Irish High King Brian Boru was educated here. The abbey was occupied for over 900 years until the monks were forced to abandon the island by order of Queen Elizabeth I in 1594. Today, the buildings still on site date from the 10th to the 13th centuries.
The giant yew directly if front of the abbey is thought to be at least 800 years old!
I loved walking around the ruins and what caught my eye the most today were all of the tiny plants clinging to the stone walls. In the perfect little mini garden below, the foxglove plant was only about five inches tall! It brought to mind part of a lovely quote from the Irish poet Thomas Moore in which he described the nature to be found in Killarney, “…the little gardens that every small rock exhibits, the romantic disposition of the islands, and graceful sweep of the shores; – all this is unequalled anywhere else.”
As well as lichens, mosses, and tiny ferns, some of the plants clinging to the stones were flowering naval worts (top two photos below) and Ivy-leaved toad flax (bottom left).
I had to search for a while to find the face of Saint Finian finely carved from a block of Red Sandstone. The building stone of the abbey is primarily limestone, which underlies much of Killarney National Park, and some Red Sandstone which was transported into the area by ice age glaciers and deposited as glacial erratics.
After viewing the abbey ruins I decided to walk the trail that circles the 21 acre island. The path travelled through bracken and open forest,
with easy access to the shore.
This view from a high bank clearly shows the limestone bedrock, sculpted by the water,
and here is a large Red Sandstone erratic beside the trail (it looks white because it is almost completed covered by lichen). I learned at the Killarney House interpretive centre that yews prefer to grow on limestone while the oaks prefer to grow in areas of Red Sandstone.
There were few people on the island while I was there and it was blissfully peaceful, and again I was the only passenger on the return boat ride. Here is a view of Ross Castle as we headed to the pier. I was going there next!
Ross Castle was initially built in the mid 15th century by an O’Donoghue chieftain as a tower house which included the tall centre portion of the castle you see below as well as the defensive outer walls with their rounded towers.
By the late 1500s the castle and its lands had been seized by the English crown and then had a succession of owners, chiefly the Browne family, over the ensuing centuries. A British military barracks was added onto the tower in the early 1700s and alterations were made, such as removing interior tower walls, that weakened the structural integrity of the castle. By the Victorian era, the castle had deteriorated into a Romantic ruin on the shores of Lough Leane, very popular with tourists of the day.
The castle has since been extensively restored and is managed by the Ireland’s Office of Public Works (OPW) (as was Trim Castle). I took their excellent and inexpensive guided tour that visited each of the three levels of the tower. The principal rooms, like the Great Hall on the third floor, were furnished as they might have been in the 15th century (interior photos were not allowed) and we learned what life would have been like then for the castle’s first inhabitants. I was so impressed by the tour and also impressed by the restoration work that was done by the OPW at great expense and with the use of local materials and medieval building techniques (as much as possible) to preserve authenticity.
Ross Castle is definitely a “must see” for visitors to Killarney!
On my last full day in Killarney I booked a “Gap of Dunloe” tour which is also a “must see” for many if not most visitors. The Gap of Dunloe tour is a 12 kilometre journey that begins at Kate Kearney’s Cottage where a single-lane road climbs its way up through a narrow valley, past five small lakes connected by the River Loe to a pass (the “gap”), and then steeply down into the beautiful Black Valley. It then travels to Lord Brandon’s Cottage where boats are moored on the river that leads into Killarney’s Upper Lake, ready to take travellers on a ninety-minute boat ride across Killarney’s three lakes to end at Ross Castle, with a bus ride back to Killarney.
I was very excited to do this tour but also a bit apprehensive because I was going to walk the 12 kilometres and the time allotted for the trip is 2.5 -3 hours maximum in order to meet the boats on time. That’s a walking speed of 4 km per hour which is fast for me. Most tourists choose to travel the 12 kilometres in a pony and trap jaunting car, clip clop clip clop!
There were not many of us walking and I headed off at a good pace behind a French family of three and soon passed them as the road climbed steeply away from Kate Kearney’s Cottage,
and we quickly reached the first lake.
The road would level off somewhat as it passed alongside the lakes and then rise again, always aiming for the deep V between the mountains in the distance.
Some sections ahead looked a little daunting!
It was a beautiful walk and I wished that I could take more time to explore and enjoy the vistas.
We climbed up,
and up,
until the very top of the pass.
From there, the road swept steeply down a series of S curves and then straightened out for a long descent into the Black Valley.
But I could see that the Killarney Upper Lake was far in the distance behind me, and where did everybody go? The jaunting cars had long since passed me but there were no more walkers that I could see either behind or in front of me. Had I missed a turnoff somewhere?
It was very bizarre, so quiet, and it felt like every single person had disappeared off the face of the planet! I looked ahead, and behind, and down the mountainside as I kept walking at a quick pace downhill, and then finally I could see the French family below me (they had passed me earlier), in the middle of an S-curve that reversed the road’s direction so that it would lead towards the lake. Phew!
I relaxed and continued along in front of the few homes and church of the Black Valley (I would walk here again on the Kerry Way), then the road paralleled the lovely Owenreagh River for the last kilometre or so before arriving at Lord Brandon’s cottage where I had just a few minutes for a quick snack and a five minute rest before heading across a wide path to the moored boats on the river. I took a quick photo back towards Lord Brandon’s cottage and the mountains that I had crossed,
and then climbed into the boat with eleven other excited passengers. What a beautiful day! We travelled down the river,
until it widened and then we were crossing Killarney’s Upper Lake.
On the other side we rejoined the river as it narrowed dramatically and flowed in fun curves around rocky points for some distance as it headed towards Muckross Lake (the middle lake).
We reached the narrowest and shallowest part of the river and had to disembark and then walk across a stone bridge and along a forest trail for probably about 100 metres to where the river joined the middle lake (Muckross Lake) and where a new boat was waiting for us. This manoeuvre is necessary when rain has been scant and the river level is low. One older American fellow was rather disgruntled with this but I heard him quip, as we boarded the bus at the end of our adventure, his good humour restored, “That’s the most hiking I’ve ever had to do on a boat trip!”
We crossed Muckross Lake, with views of Muckross House on a distant shore, and then passed under this bridge!
Here is one of my favourite photos of the day.
In the middle of Lough Leane, the largest of the three Killarney lakes, we had to do another, very strange maneuver and I still don’t understand exactly why. In the middle of the large lake we had to take off our life jackets, board another boat that came to meet us and was held directly alongside, and then put on new life jackets to finish the journey in that boat! There was lots of nervous laughter, excitement, and a rather pale and serious face on the American fellow! Here is our view of Ross Castle as we neared the end of our wonderful Gap of Dunloe boat trip.
Boat trips, Innisfallen Island, Ross Castle, the Gap of Dunloe, mountains, meadows, lakes and spectacular vistas all around. More reasons to visit Ireland’s wonderful town of Killarney!
Bike Fest, Loch Leane, Muckross Abbey, Muckross House, Muckross Traditional Farms, Torc Waterfall
June 2-3, 2023
I enjoyed the scenic four-hour train ride southwest from Dublin to Killarney which is one of Ireland’s most visited towns. I knew to expect lots of tourists in the town but I had not expected the combination of a bank holiday weekend with a popular motorcycle festival (BikeFest) that has been known to draw up to 50,000 people to Killarney for a long weekend of free concerts, a fairground, and a motorcycle parade on the Sunday! Yikes! I arrived on Saturday afternoon, saw lots of bikers around town as I walked to my accommodation, and learned of the festival at the tourist information centre. I decided to stick to my initial plan of first visiting the nearby Killarney House. Killarney House is the visitor and interpretive centre for Killarney National Park which encompasses over 10,000 hectares of mountains, lakes, woodlands and meadows, and which features trails, historical sites, gardens, and museums as well.
I entered the grounds of Killarney House and had a wonderful view across expansive lawns and a distant field towards Loch Leane, also known as Killarney’s Lower Lake (just barely visible as a minuscule dot in the far distance (at the vanishing point)), and the McGillicuddy’s Reeks which are Ireland’s highest mountain range.
In the other direction, I walked along more expansive lawns and then through a small formal garden to arrive at Killarney House which was once the stable block for a grand house on the 137,000 acre Kenmare Estate which is now incorporated into the national park.
Killarney House features a series of fifteen rooms that provide information in a variety of formats about the national park’s many diverse habitats which include ancient oak woodlands and yew woodlands that are among the largest in Western Europe and contain trees that are over a thousand years old. Exhibits also described the human history of the area through the centuries and its impact on the land, as well as conservation efforts that are underway in the park to mitigate some of the damage caused by those activities which include the introduction of invasive species in the 19th century.
After my visit to Killarney House I decided that I would like to have a picnic supper down at the lake so I exited the park, visited a nearby grocery store, and then made my way to a wonderful riverside trail that would lead me several kilometres down to Loch Leane. It was a beautiful walk!
And once I arrived this was my view of Loch Leane with its small islands and the McGillicuddy’s Reeks in the background!
I found a nice spot in the shade under some trees to spread out my picnic and my tourist pamphlets. I had purchased dinner and my next day’s lunch and snacks for less than half the price of a restaurant dinner! The crisps were meant for the following day but of course I couldn’t wait – they were the perfect accompaniment to reading my pamphlets and revising my Killarney plans so as to best avoid the crowds. Happy with my new itinerary (and the crisps!) I explored the lake shore for a while, talked to some fishermen, and asked an American couple to take my photo after I took theirs. It was incredibly beautiful, quiet, and peaceful there and I was very happy with my first afternoon in Killarney.
I followed the river trail back for part of the way and then took a trail that led me across a picturesque meadow and toward the town. There were so many large and incredibly beautiful trees, and I saw a European robin, so pretty! He posed for me nicely and just before I snapped the picture he flew a few feet away to pose again, “No, I look better here”, and then again twice more until he was just a tiny silhouette but I snapped the photo anyways, thrilled to have seen him.
I walked past Killarney’s large St. Mary’s Cathedral, situated at the edge of town,
and then walked along quiet residential streets to my accommodation where I enjoyed some more quiet time in my lovely room and in the small kitchenette where I would help myself to breakfast items in the morning and where I could work on my iPad and have a coffee and biscuits, or heat up a meal, anytime I wished. This was to be my comfortable home for the next three full days in Killarney.
I slept well and woke early on Sunday ready to walk the first eight kilometres of the Kerry Way, from Killarney to Torc Waterfall, while also visiting three of Killarney’s top tourist sites, Muckross Abbey, Muckross House and Gardens, and Muckross Traditional Farms. I figured that many of the bikers and others in town for the festival would be sleeping in late on a Sunday morning and then attending the Motorcycle Parade at 11 a.m. and therefore I could safely stay away from all of the busyness.
There is no official sign in Killarney to mark the start of the Kerry Way built it does start at the beginning of Muckross Road which is also the N71 that is lined with shops, bed and breakfasts, gas stations and small hotels and inns, most of which had very shiny bikes parked in their lots.
It was not yet eight, and the N71 was thankfully still fairly quiet, but it was not the most scenic start to a national trail! I was looking forward to a section, after about two kilometres of road walking, where a gravel path used by horse-drawn jaunting carts would parallel the road, but that section had been turned into a bikers’ campground!
At first there were a lot of tents all in a row, and then a lot of RVs and tents, with a few people just starting to be up and about.
This was a simple yet effective set-up – two bikes, a double air mattress, some blankets and a tarp. What more do you need?
It was really quite fun to see the assemblage of bikes and bikers, but it was also wonderful to arrive at this point where the campsite and inns and hotels ended.
I turned onto the road to Muckross Abbey and later a Kerry Way path that took me through lovely woods,
and there were short offshoot trails that lead me down to the lakeshore more than once for new views of the lake and mountains. It was wonderful!
The path led me from woodland to meadow and then on to Muckross Abbey, a Franciscan Friary founded around 1445 by Donal MacCarthy who was a local chieftain.
I was the only one there and free to roam about the entire large, well-preserved, and beautiful ruins.
There was a small cloister with an amazing yew tree in its centre and I learned from a sign at the entrance to the ruins that yews are often planted in cemeteries and monastic settlements in Ireland.
There were spiral steps that led me up to the second floor where I could wander through various rooms and look down into the cloister, and then more steps that led me into the bell tower for a look way up to its wooden roof.
The monastery was surrounded by a cemetery that was filled with wild roses, red valerian, and green and golden grasses, and the lake and mountains were visible in the distance. I felt very grateful and quite moved by my early morning visit to this very special abbey.
I returned to the Kerry Way path with its lush vegetation, beautiful trees, and ever-changing views of the lake.
Then I reached Muckross House, a 65-room Tudor-style mansion which was built in the years 1839-1843 for the Herbert family. This elegant house is furnished in period style and visitors may tour through many of its rooms at their own pace. The house and its 11,000 acre estate were gifted to the Irish Free State (now the Republic of Ireland) in 1932 and later formed part of Killarney National Park along with the lands gifted from the former Kenmare Estate.
Here are photos of just a few of the upstairs rooms on display – the dining room, billiards room, library, entrance hall, and an elegant bedroom.
And this is the bedroom where Queen Victoria and Prince Albert stayed during their visit to Killarney and Muckross House in 1861.
The tour also includes multiple rooms “downstairs” that were used by the servants to keep the house in tiptop shape and its residents happy! The kitchen was huge and quite beautiful with gorgeous slate floors and gleaming copper pots.
I really enjoyed my visit to Muckross House and I would love to visit it again on a quiet day with nothing else on my agenda in order to more fully take in all of the wonderful antique furnishings and beautiful objects in the home, both upstairs and down.
From Muckross House I proceeded to the Muckross Traditional Farms, completing forgetting to visit the popular Muckross Gardens which are free to everyone. Oh well, yet another reason to return again! The Muckross Traditional Farms feature authentically-built replicas of three separate working farms (small, medium, and large) as they would have typically looked in Ireland in the early 1900s. On view as well are farm animals, traditional farm machinery, a labourer’s cottage, carpenter’s workshop, harness maker’s workshop, a blacksmith’s forge, and a schoolhouse. All of this is set on 71 pastoral acres and is accessed on a pleasant looped walk of 2 km.
The small farm had peat burning in the fireplace with bread baking in a pan above it. A lovely older woman in period dress offered visitors Irish soda bread with butter and answered their questions. A small farm usually would be a holding of about 20 acres with a mix of dairying and tillage.
The medium-sized farm would typically be a holding of 40 to 50 acres and have outbuildings for animals and equipment built in a continuous row parallel to the family home. Here too there was bread and butter on offer and a bit of storytelling as well. The musical instruments and extra seating in the main living area denote this as a “Rambing House” where neighbours would gather for evenings of conversation, storytelling, music and dancing, particularly during the long winter months.
A large farm of about 100 acres would typically have a home and connected outbuildings arranged in a U-shape around a rectangular farmyard. These farms would practice mixed farming with dairying, tillage, and the growing of grain crops such as wheat, barley, and oats.
In the kitchen of this farm a woman was rinsing freshly-made butter, “always three with fresh spring water.” Another woman working there mentioned to a visitor that she was a musician and I asked her if there was a place in Killarney where I could hear traditional music, “not too late in the evening.” She told me of a pub where up to 15 musicians gather on Sundays between 3 and 5, and also that she would be playing there at 8:30 p.m.
I finished my tour of the traditional farms and then carried on with my plan to walk to the Torc Waterfall. The two kilometre walk there from Muckross House, along the lake and through woods and across meadows, was stunning!
What an amazing day! By this time I was definitely getting tired and the bus from Torc Waterfall to Killarney was not due for another 40 minutes so I asked a couple that were heading to their car if they were going to Killarney and if yes could I catch a ride? They kindly said yes and were very happy to hear that I am from Vancouver because their son had moved there in February for a year of work, as many young Irish have been doing, and they had many questions about my fair city. Traffic into and through Killarney was slow, slow, slow, slow with the Bike Fest on so we had a good long chat!
That evening, after a lovely shower, rest, and dinner I roused myself to actually go out for the evening and I am so glad that I did! Sheila, the woman I had met at Muckross Farm, was playing and singing with her sister and another woman and they were fabulous! Fiddle, guitar, pipes, accordion, bodhran drums, and voice, in a crowded bar with an appreciative audience. It was fantastic! I sat with an American couple, an Irish couple, and an older Irish gentleman who was also a musician and singer and Sheila came over and greeted me like a long-lost friend even though we’d only met for five minutes that afternoon! (Shiela is centre in the photo)
So, that was my day, evening, and previous afternoon in Killarney! I think it is quite obvious to anyone who has managed to read through all of the above, rather lengthy post, that Killarney is most definitely worth a visit!
National Art Gallery of Ireland, Jeanie Johnston Famine Ship, Docklands and River Walk
June 1, 2023
On my last full day in Dublin I had five stops planned but only managed three of them. This is definitely a city to spend some time in as there is so much to discover and do. I will stick with my assessment from one of my very first travel blog posts which was called “Dublin in One or Two Days? I Don’t Think So!” https://christineswalkabout.com/category/ireland/dublin/
My first stop was the National Art Gallery of Ireland. I walked up steps that advertised a special exhibit of works by Lavinia Fontana and then visited the collection of “European Art from 1850-1950”. Some of my favourite pieces in that collection were (clockwise from the right) “Le Corsage Noir” by Berthe Morisot, “Argenteuil Basin with a Single Sailboat” by Claude Monet, and “The Terrace, Saint Tropez” by Paul Signac.
Next I visited a series of rooms featuring Irish paintings from 1660-1965 and I took my time there to observe the works that appealed to me and to read the brief but informative write ups that accompanied each one. The top left photo is of “Carting Seaweed on Sutton Sands”, by Joseph Malachi Kavanagh, and the bottom right is “A View of Lower Lake, Killarney” by Jonathan Fisher (Killarney is where I am now). The top right photo is “Lady Lavery as Kathleen Ni Houlihan” by John Lavery which was commissioned as a design for the first banknotes of the Irish Free State. The painting is a reworked portrait of his wife Hazel, posed in front of the Lower Lake, Killarney, and cast as Kathleen ni Houlihan, the mythical heroin of a play by W.B. Yeats. The notes were issued from between 1928 and 1977.
For the centre left photo above, entitled “The Liffey Swim” by Jack B. Yeats, I listened in on a school tour group and learned that this painting is a depiction from 1923 of a very popular two-mile competitive swim down the Liffey that occurs each year in Dublin. This painting was entered in the first-ever modern Olympic Games that took place in Paris in 1924 when there were medals awarded for sport-themed fine arts submissions. “The Liffey Swim” won a Silver, Ireland’s first Olympic medal.
The Gallery’s largest painting is “The Marriage of Strongbow and Aoife” by Daniel Maclise which depicts the marriage in 1170 between the Norman invader, Richard de Clare, known as Strongbow, and Aoife MacMurrough, daughter of Dermot, King of Leinster. Their marriage is seen as a key moment in the beginnings of Anglo-Norman rule in Ireland. The couple are in the centre, with Norman soldiers as shadowy figures in the top right while the goddess Eriu, after whom Ireland is named, is the anguished figure with arms upraised amidst a group of vanquished Celts. And, to the left of her, the harp of Brian Boru, also a symbol for Ireland, is held by a downcast harpist and has broken strings. (I listened in on a school tour here too and learned a lot!)
After my visit to the National Art Gallery of Ireland (during which I saw only a small fraction of the works on display), I walked towards the River Liffey which divides Dublin into North and South. From one spot on the south shore I took photos of the Sean O’Casey pedestrian bridge located upstream of me,
and a photo downstream, zoomed in, of the Samuel Beckett Bridge, more commonly known as the Harp Bridge. It is a swinging bridge that can move ninety degrees horizontally in only three minutes in order to let tall marine traffic travel up and down the river.
Behind me I was interested in the integration of old and new in the architecture of the HubSpot building. HubSpot is one of the many high tech companies that have moved into Dublin in recent years, many of them in this part of Dublin that is known as the Docklands, but is also sometimes referred to as Silicon Docks.
And directly across from me, moored on the north side of the river, was the Jeanie Johnston Famine Ship which was my next stop. I consider this museum to be a must-do for any visitor to Dublin.
I crossed the pedestrian bridge and at its end is the relatively new Epic Irish Emigration Museum which won the award for “Europe’s Leading Tourist Attraction” in 2019, 2020, and 2021. It was one of my planned stops but I went to the Jeanie Johnston first and was so moved by what I learned there that I didn’t want to take in anything else today except more walking along the Liffey.
Before my guided tour of the Jeanie Johnston I visited the Famine Memorial, a visceral grouping of tall, gaunt, starving figures sculpted by Rowan Gillespie. During the years 1845-1852 a terrible blight destroyed Ireland’s entire crop of potatoes which were a subsistence food for much of the Irish population, especially in the south and the west of the country. There was little to no relief provided to the Irish from the English parliament whose ruling Whig party attributed the catastrophe as due to a lack of moral character by those suffering. Even though the potato crop had failed, there was enough wheat, oats, and other grains grown in Ireland during the years of the famine to feed the entire population but that grain continued to be exported out of the country by Ireland’s English and Anglo-Irish landowners.
Over one million Irish died of starvation, or from typhus and other famine-related diseases, and over one million emigrated, leaving Ireland’s population decimated by nearly a quarter. Of those that emigrated, 95 percent travelled to North America, mostly in the holds of cargo ships that came to be know as “coffin ships” as so many of the Irish died during the voyages due to unsanitary conditions, disease, and lack of food. All of these tragic facts, and more, were related to us on our tour aboard the Jeanie Johnston, but there were also a few glimmers of light and compassionate humanity as well in the story of this particular ship.
The Jeanie Johnston was a Canadian-built cargo ship that transported timber and other products to Ireland and like many other cargo ships it would typically return to North America empty. During the famine, these ships started transporting Irish emigrants across the Atlantic in their holds. (The ship here is a near-exact replica of the original Jeanie Johnston. It was built in Ireland as a Millenium project using authentic materials and techniques, with modifications made for current sailing safety standards.). After learning about the famine and the ship, we descended to the hold where an average of 200 passengers per trip made the perilous voyage across the Atlantic which took an average of 47 days. On other ships, the passengers, already weakened and ill from starvation, were kept below decks in filthy conditions but on the Jeanie Johnston the passengers came up onto the decks daily while the hold was cleaned and blankets were shaken out over the railings to get rid of disease-carrying fleas and body lice. Food and water were available (though not plentiful) and there was a doctor on board to deal with any illnesses. The Jeanie Johnston made sixteen voyages from Tralee to Canada and lost not one passenger on any of its voyages. As part of the tour, our excellent young guide related the true stories of some of the passengers known to have taken this ship to a new life overseas. They were all absorbing and some moved to me to tears. For example, on each voyage the captain would provide free passage to at least person or family including, once, a widower and his eleven children. Also, one female passenger travelling alone was nine months pregnant and gave birth on the ship the day the passengers boarded. Throughout the voyage, other passengers shared part of their rations with the nursing mother and took turns helping to care for the baby. I could tell more of the stories I heard but I won’t in this space. Please do make it a priority to visit this museum if you ever visit Dublin.
Here is one last amazing fact about the original Jeanie Johnston. In 1858 she stopped taking on Irish emigrants when new legislation made it illegal for cargo ships to transport passengers. That same year, on a voyage from England to Canada, she sank in the middle of the Atlantic after water got into the hold during a fierce storm. The waterlogged timbers on board became heavy causing the ship to slowly sink. Once the water was two feet deep on the deck, the crew climbed the rigging and lashed themselves to the top of the main mast.
The ship continued to slowly sink, and after nine days a passing Dutch ship, the Sophie Elizabeth, saw the mast, barely above water, with its clinging and exhausted crew who had almost surely lost hope, and they were all rescued!
After my visit to the Jeanie Johnston, I walked slowly downstream along the north side of the river towards and then past the Harp Bridge for about a kilometre or two, taking photos of the views and buildings.
I could see no more bridges ahead (though I saw one later on a map) so I turned back and returned to the Harp Bridge to cross over it to the south side of the river. The Harp Bridge is stunning!
I continued to admire the mix of old and new architecture as I walked upstream, and it was truly a pleasure to stroll along the river on such a fine day. I felt grateful to be here, whole, healthy and blessed with good fortune.
I walked by the 1908 Immaculate Heart of Mary church, Parish of City Quay, which was tucked in between two taller, newer structures and I decided to step inside for a few moments. The interior featured beautiful arched wooden beams holding up a steeply pitched roof. Large arched windows added to the overall feeling of lightness and height. It was an unusual design and a really beautiful space!
I continued my walk upriver, past the Sean O’Casey pedestrian bridge, the Talbot Memorial Bridge, the Butt Bridge, the Rosie Hackett Bridge and then the O’Connell Bridge, taking photos all the while.
I was heading to the famous 19th century Ha’penny pedestrian bridge, intending to cross again to the other side of the river, but I just had to stop first for a coffee and pastry. The young server, Daniel, gave me a discount, “just because” he said, and we chatted quite a bit as he worked. He and his husband, both born and bred Dubliners, are emigrating to Pennsylvania soon where one of them has family because the cost of rents has gone “sky high” in Dublin, with prices similar to those in Vancouver. He was friendly and funny and I hope that his move is the right one for him and that he and his husband do not miss Dublin too much. Suddenly feeling that my day had been full enough I decided to head home to my accommodation. I walked through the very busy and popular streets of Temple Bar that were crowded with tourists and large groups of young people enjoying the pubs and bars on their long weekend, and then on to Grafton Street where shopping was the order of the day for many.
Do we stop to think how lucky we are? Of course, the parts of Dublin that I visited on this trip are just a piece of a larger whole and I know from my hostesses and others I spoke with that there is more homelessness, poverty, drug and alcohol addiction and crime in other parts of the city, particularly north of the river. But I am sure that there is community there as well as some despair. Those cheery fellows in Howth that run the ferries to Ireland’s Eye were very proud of being from tough and working class “north-of-the-river Dublin 7”.
This post is getting rather long, and I am about to set out on a 77 kilometre long distance walk on the Kerry Way (in about half an hour!) so I’ll end this now by saying that any day in Dublin is a day that you will see something old and something new, and you will almost certainly enjoy exchanges with friendly and welcoming Dubliners and others. I greatly enjoyed my Dublin Day!
On my second full day in Dublin I chose to do a day trip to Trim, about one hour northwest of Dublin by bus. Public transit is fantastic in Ireland and buses can take you to even the smallest of towns, with no left-side-of-the-road driving needed! Prices are very reasonable and, best of all, you can sit back, relax, and watch the scenery roll by. I sat in the front row on the top deck of the Bus Eireen double-decker and had a great view of Dublin streets and then suburban streets for about half of the trip, and then gorgeous rolling countryside and farmland for the second half. Then we arrived in Trim, a small town with impressive medieval ruins all situated along the scenic Boyne River.
This was my view, five minutes from the bus stop, on a riverside trail, of Trim Castle which is the largest and best preserved Anglo-Norman castle in Ireland. It is also central to the history of Ireland as it was the stronghold of Hugh de Lacy, leader of the first invading force to occupy Irish land.
And this is my first view, some five minutes later, of two other medieval ruins, this time on my side of the river. The tall structure is known as the Yellow Steeple and was the bell tower for the Augustinian Abbey of St. Mary. Built in 1368 after the original tower burnt down, and largely destroyed by Cromwellian forces in 1649, it is believed to be tallest medieval building still standing in Ireland. The smaller structure is the Sheep’s Gate which was built in the 13th century as one of five gates in the town’s defensive walls. It was known as the Sheep’s Gate because farmers’ sheep and other livestock were counted as they came into the town in order to calculate tolls and the taxes owed.
A few minutes later, as I crossed over the Boyne River on a pedestrian bridge, I stopped and had this view of “Ireland’s Oldest Bridge”. In use since 1393, it is the oldest complete and unaltered working bridge still in use in Ireland. That is 670 years of use and cars were passing over it!
This is the west gate of the castle, backlit by the morning sun. Entrance to the grounds is free and the cost of the excellent and highly recommended (by me) guided tour inside the massive keep is a very reasonable five Euros.
I had time to walk around the grounds before my tour and I circled the large stone keep which was built in a square shape, with four square towers on each of the four sides (the north tower has fallen away). It was an unusual design and is the only known example of a twenty-sided Anglo-Norman castle.
This is a view from east of the keep and across to the western gate. The construction of the stone castle began in 1175 and was completed, with a series of modifications, by the year 1220.
And here is a view of the defensive southern gate, and of me inside its doorway.
This view is from the west. The castle tour will take me to a walkway at the top that enables viewing from all four sides of the central square.
Our tour guide, Valerie, was incredibly knowledgeable and adept at summarizing the long and complex history and social and political significance of this castle. On the first floor were models that showed the three main phases of construction that took place, and then we climbed the original spiral staircases to rise to the level of the second and then the third floors. We learned the function of various rooms and the way of life of the people who inhabited the castles in medieval times. The centre right photo is of the oratory where the family’s priest would have said mass. Clues to its use are the large east-facing window and the double recesses that contain carved stone basins for holding holy water.
Then we were at the top of the castle with views in all directions. The Hill of Tara, where the High Kings of Ireland were traditionally crowned, was just visible as a small bump on the horizon to the northeast.
The large building in the centre of the next photo is of Talbot Castle, a fortified manor house which was built in 1415 on the site of St. Mary’s Abbey. Now a private residence, it operated as a school in the 18th and 19th centuries and the Duke of Wellington was educated there.
From the castle, I walked back across the river and up to the Yellow Steeple where a worker was now clearing plants off of the structure. The truck and the figure of the man help to show the tower’s impressive height.
There were fabulous views of the castle from the tower,
and again from the Sheep’s Gate.
I returned to the river and began to stroll downstream to view more medieval ruins at Newtown. It was such a beautiful afternoon and the riverside path was being enjoyed by dog walkers, families, and other pedestrians. Everyone seemed very happy!
I couldn’t resist taking one more photo of the castle when I passed by a cluster of yellow flag iris growing by the river.
And then, believe it or not, this amazing meadow was medieval in origin too!
Known as the Porchfield, this expanse of meadowland was granted to the Burgesses of Trim by Walter de Lacy in 1194 to use for cultivation and pasture. Later, in 1449, the Duke of York, who was then the Governor of Trim, granted the land to St. Mary’s Abbey. As I walked along the riverside path, interpretive panels complete with historical illustrations and maps provided information on aspects of medieval life in Trim and Newtown.
I reached the ruins of the Saint Peter and Saint Paul Cathedral which was founded by Simon de Rochfort in 1206 who chose this site near Trim Castle after his cathedral at Clonard was attacked by the native Irish.
The ruins are surrounded by large yew trees and a graveyard with many Celtic crosses.
Just past the cathedral ruins are the remains of a smaller parish church and they feature, near the altar, the carved stone tomb with effigies of the “Jealous Man and Woman”.
From here I walked to a pleasant riverside coffee shop, Marcie’s, where I stopped for a light lunch and a rest, and then I crossed over the Boyne River on a one-lane arched stone bridge to visit the Priory of St. John the Baptist. The ruins here date from the 13th to the 17th centuries and are the remains of a hospital founded in the 13th century by the Crutched Friars who were Augustinian monks dedicated to treating the sick. I had the entire ruins all to myself.
I was so glad to have made this visit to the historic town of Trim! I took my time walking back along the riverside trail, and I had a little lie down in the meadow while I waited for my bus back to Dublin. After that quiet hour-long ride, I arrived in a very busy and crowded Dublin that was ready to party! It was the start of a long weekend and I had to really wake myself up for the walk back along and across busy streets to my accommodation.
It was all rather exciting, but tomorrow was going to be a “Dublin Day” for me, and today I wanted to cling to memories of that meadow and the river and those silent ruins so I made my way to St. Kevin’s Park which was nearly empty of people. I had a peaceful dinner there, on a bench beside the wall of roses, with the tall blue cranes beyond the wall silent and still.
Hello everyone! I am so happy to be back in fun and fabulous Dublin at the start of a six-week journey across the Emerald Isle. After a mostly sleepless overnight flight, I made my way from the airport directly to my accommodation located in the Camden area of central Dublin. I met my kind hosts, dropped off my bags, and then set out to reacquaint myself with this historic and vibrant city. Close to my accommodation I passed by an inviting little park that seemed to encapsulate the personality of Dublin – that is, to me, a youthful vitality grafted onto strong historical roots. In the park, a fine old ash tree greets visitors near the entrance, and ivy grows wildly over the stone ruins of St. Kevin’s Church which was built in the 18th century on a site where churches have stood since at least the 1200s. Adjacent to the park a quintet of tall blue cranes are evidence of the construction boom that is happening all over the city to meet the demands for new office space and housing. The lawns and benches were filled with hip twenty- and thirty-somethings soaking up the sun and enjoying a mid-afternoon break from work, phones in hand, earbuds in,
while heritage roses were in full and glorious bloom all along the walls and in the garden beds, even though it was not yet June. The overall feeling was both peaceful and invigorating, contemplative and exciting – an interesting mix!
I continued on to St. Patrick’s Cathedral and here too many people were relaxing in the park and enjoying the warm afternoon sunshine, tourists and locals alike.
Saint Patrick’s Cathedral is a large Gothic cathedral that was built between 1220 and 1259 near the site of a well that was reputedly used by Saint Patrick in the 5th century to baptize pagans into the Christian faith. I joined a guided tour and then listened to the excellent audio tour, both of which provided a wealth of information about the history of this 800 year old cathedral. Here is a photo of the altar,
and from here I took a photo looking back past the choir and down the long nave to the western door, as well as a photo looking up at the heraldic flags and ornamental knights’ helmets arranged above the choir seats.
The Cathedral is filled with hundreds of historic items including statues, plaques, books, war memorials, banners, flags, and even a cannonball that hangs from a chain to mark the burial place of a military commander, Lord Lisburn, who was killed by that same cannonball in 1691 during the siege of Limerick. In the gallery of photos below, the stone slab is one of six 8th century Celtic grave slabs that were found during excavations in the Cathedral park, while the bottom photo is of the original Queen Anne Patent, dated May 6, 1713, appointing Johathan Swift to the Deanery of the Cathedral. Swift, the author of Gulliver’s Travels and other works, was Dean of the Saint Patrick’s Cathedral from 1713 until his death in 1745, and he is buried beneath its floor.
So many stories in every corner and crevice! And of course the soaring architecture and the stained glass windows were beautiful, but one of the design elements that I most enjoyed in the cathedral was the gorgeous floor tiles, based on early medieval designs, that were laid down when the cathedral received a much-needed and massive interior renovation in the 1860s. Those renovations were overseen and funded by Benjamin Lee Guinness, the grandson of Arthur Guinness, at a cost of about 15 million Euros in today’s dollars!
I enjoyed my time in the Cathedral, and I learned a lot, but I was beginning to feel very tired! I carried on to the nearby Dubhlinn Gardens at Dublin Castle where, once more, people were enjoying the beautiful sunshine.
My plan had been to revisit the Chester Beatty museum which was one of my favourite museums on my first visit to Dublin, but I was definitely feeling whoozy with fatigue so instead I just strolled slowly around the gardens and appreciated the combined beauty of the flowers, fountains, sculptures, historic buildings and a blue sky. It felt wonderful to be back in Dublin.
The following day was, again, bright and sunny and I headed off early to visit the seaside fishing village of Howth, about 30 minutes northeast of Dublin on the Dart train. I enjoyed the half hour walk from my accommodation to the Dart station, walking along with Dubliners young and older as they strode purposefully to their job sites for a nine a.m. start. A goodly proportion of Dubliners are champion jay walkers and I happily followed suit! I cut through St. Stephen’s Green Park and later along the edge of Merrion Park where I stopped to visit a statue of Oscar Wilde who once lived nearby. Central Dublin has many green spaces and they are very very green!
The Dart ride was fun, and it was exciting to arrive in Howth right beside this lovely beach where I spoke for a while with a very elderly gentleman who had just finished his daily morning swim.
I walked to the west arm of the harbour pier and out to its end, past seafood shops, marine supply stores, and restaurants on one side and moored fishing vessels on the other. The morning was perfect, with a bright sky, invigorating ocean breeze, and that wide-open, happy and optimistic feeling that you get from being by the sea.
At the end of the pier there was an excellent view of the lighthouse and of a beacon at the end of the eastern harbour arm,
as well as a great view out to Ireland’s Eye, a small uninhabited island with the ruins of an early church and a Martello tower, built by the British during the time of the French Revolutionary Wars.
I chatted for quite some time with a group of gentlemen who ferry tourists out to the island and also around the base of the Howth Cliffs, but the sea was “too rough today” for any morning journeys. They were very cheery fellows who liked to tease and who definitely had the gift of the gab! From the pier I walked back to the main road, headed up a steep hill behind a row of houses, and found a trail through a wood that was thick with ivy.
Then I walked across a large meadow and through more woods (after consulting twice with local dog walkers) to arrive at Howth Castle. The castle buildings here date from the 1450s onward and are part of a 470 acre estate that covers much of the Howth peninsula. This estate was first founded in 1177 when Almeric came to Ireland with John de Courcy and was granted the land. From that date, the estate remained in the hands of the same family for 840 years until its recent sale in 2018 to an Irish development company.
I walked around the castle’s estate for a while, looking for its rhododendron gardens, but without any luck until I was aided (and escorted) by another helpful local. The gardens were wild and unkept but very beautiful with mature rhodos in every colour sweeping up and onto a high rocky outcropping. I climbed a steep trail through a tunnel of rhodendrons, gorse and other vegetation to arrive on top of the outcropping with great views in all directions.
From there I explored a confusing maze of trails and got a bit turned around. Dog walkers again came to my aid, several times, and I was encouraged to visit a small and pretty lake and also an ancient dolmen, the Howth Portal Tomb known locally as Aideen’s Grave. The large capstone, which has fallen off of its original eight supporting stones, is estimated to weigh 75 tons!
Then, I got lost again (with a map this time, and I am usually great with navigation!) trying to find a trail that crossed a large golf course and would connect me to a coastal path. Long story short, after much walking in circles and a good deal of exasperation, I gave up and took a very rare taxi ride to a trailhead where I was finally able to connect with one of the clifftop paths that circle much of the Howth peninsula. It was a wonderful trail, with views down to a lighthouse,
and so many of my favourite coastal plants to admire and to remind me of previous happy coastal walks – bracken, gorse just coming into its bright yellow bloom, purple heather, white sea campion, and honeysuckle.
The air was warm, the wind was invigorating, and the views were spectacular with raucous gulls wheeling over the sea and around their cliffside nesting sites. And then there were even more of my favourite coastal plants – tiny white wild roses, pink sea thrift, cranesbill geranium, and a very tiny and pretty flowering sedum clinging in small patches in rock crevices.
After several kilometres of very happy walking, the trail circled west towards the town of Howth, with views overlooking the large harbour with its long piers.
The path descended to a seafront road which passed a beach and a house that was once the home of W.B. Yeats. Then, feeling quite tired, and with sore feet after a full day of walking, I debated whether to walk the long distance of the harbour’s west pier.
The answer, of course, was “yes”, and thankfully there were many benches along the way for taking short rests.
Then there was yet another jetty that cut into the centre of the large harbour so I walked that one too, drawn forward by the waving mallows, moored sailboats, and sparkling water.
I returned to the harbour-front road and was passing a row of pubs with outdoor seating when I heard a cheerful “Christine!” It was Evan, who had escorted me to the rhododendron gardens, having a pint with several of his friends so I sat with them for a while, happy to chat and rest my feet. All day long friendly locals had helped me out and each one had asked where I was from and where I was travelling and they told me whether or not they had ever visited Canada. One old gentlemen had said, “You’re very welcome to Ireland,” which such genuine sincerity that I felt truly honoured to be welcomed by him. My last stop in Howth was at the remains of St. Mary’s abbey, built in 1235 and rebuilt in the late 14th century on a stunning site overlooking the sea. The earliest church here was founded in 1042 by Sitric, the Viking King of Dublin!
The Dart ride back was quiet, and then I had a 30 minute walk back along Dublin’s exciting streets. I cut through St. Stephen’s Green Park which was filled with people yet still somehow restful and then I had a simple sandwich and apple dinner on a bench in St. Kevin’s Park near home. I was definitely happy to be back in Dublin. 🙂
Jerome, Yarnell, Colorado River, Joshua Tree National Park
March 27-31, 2023
It was time to start heading home! From my campsite at Dead Horse Ranch State Park, I drove up into the mountains to the town of Jerome which was founded on the side of a steep slope in the late 1800’s when rich copper and other mineral deposits were found in the area. In the space of 70 years, the two principal Jerome mines produced over 33 million tons of copper, gold, silver, lead, and zinc, worth more than one billion dollars, and its population grew to more than 10,000. For a time it was known as the “Wickedest City in America” for its boozing, brawls, and brothels. The mines closed by 1953 and Jerome became a ghost town with a population of only 100 souls until about the late 1970s when artists and artisans were drawn to the town by the inexpensive prices of its attractive turn-of-the century wood-framed and brick buildings, and its fabulous views over the Verde Valley.
The town is now very popular with tourists who enjoy its art galleries, gift shops, cafes, and restaurants, and there is a mining museum as well as a museum in the former Douglas Mansion which is an Arizona State Historic Park. The town is also famous because it is slowly sliding downhill! The most extreme example is the town’s jail which slid 200 feet downhill in 1938 when underground blasting shook the earth. I arrived in town very early, before any shops were open, and I enjoyed strolling the quiet streets to view the historic buildings in the bright morning light.
From Jerome, I headed east on 89A. The road first descended on steep switchbacks and then surprised me when it began to rise again and then kept on rising. It twisted and turned up to an elevation of 7040 feet (!) at Mingus Summit pass where snow blanketed the ground below tall Ponderosa pines. More switchbacks led me down down down to the wide plateau of the Prescott valley at an elevation of 5100 feet. I then took Highway 89 through the historic town of Prescott which was once the capital of the state of Arizona. I wondered why on earth they would make the capital here in the middle of a mountain range (the answer is gold and silver). The travel time by wagon from Phoenix and Tucson must have been horrendous!
Then, there was more mountain driving up and then down a long curving descent to the Peeples Valley where I stopped for a walk in the small town of Yarnell. Surrounded by an area of large granite boulders and outcroppings, this agricultural town and travellers’ stop had a sleepy vibe at midday and featured several quirky antique and second-hand stores that were sadly devoid of shoppers.
As I continued on my journey west, the communities were small, few, and far between, and the scenery and plant life varied with the topography. On one section of Highway 89, I was thrilled to pass through an area that featured some of my favourite Arizona desert plants. The road was lined with lupines and poppies, and when I pulled over I was able to admire and photograph, for the last time on this trip, the slender and elegant branches of ocotillo, the bright pink of owl clover, and the sunny yellows of bladder pod and brittle bush flowers.
There were also saguaros, the last of my trip to Arizona and one of the sights that I had most wanted to see in the state. They are truly remarkable plants and the specimens in the photo below are easily over 100 years old as it takes that many years for a saguaro to grow its first arm. Saguaros can live for up to 200 years and grow to be between 40 and 50 feet tall and weigh up to eight tons! Their sides are pleated like an accordion to allow for expansion when rainfall is plentiful and contraction during times of drought. They have roots that radiate up to 100 feet in all directions, just inches below the soil surface, and a saguaro can store enough water from one good rainstorm to sustain the plant for two years. At about 70 years of age, a saguaro will begin to flower and each spring thereafter its white blossoms will bloom for just one night and day to be pollinated by bats, birds and insects. It bright red sweet fruits provide food for birds and bats as well as javelina, pack rats, jack rabbits, coyotes, mule deer and even bighorn sheep after the fruit has fallen. The fruit has traditionally also been collected and eaten by the Tohono O’odham and other indigenous groups, and the wood-like ribs of the saguaro have long been used to construct dwellings, shade ramadas, and fences. Finally, the mighty saguaro provides a home for many bird species including Gila woodpeckers, elf and screech owls, cactus wrens, gilded flickers, finches and sparrows, as well as a home for reptiles and for insects such as bees and beetles. They truly are benevolent citizens of the desert and are considered to be sacred ancestors by the Tohono O’odham.
The photo above also features another amazing desert plant, the rather nondescript-looking creosote bush which is the plant that was most prevalent and widespread in almost every landscape that I travelled through. The photo below is a close up shot of the creosote bush sporting its yellow blossoms and puffy white seed balls. It is one of the best adapted of desert plants and is found throughout the Mojave, Chihuahan and Sonoran deserts. It’s small waxy leaves will drop in periods of extreme drought and regrow after a rainfall. It roots can reach 60 feet down to find water and they secrete toxic chemicals that deter the growth of other plants. Remarkably, at 30-90 years of age, a creosote bush can split into several crowns and become a clonal colony that grows over time in a circular ring shape around the site of the original shrub. These clonal ring colonies can grow to a diameter of 67 feet and are among the oldest living organisms on earth at 11,700 years old!
As I continued west towards California I felt sad and reluctant to leave Arizona but also excited to see the Colorado River. When I had crossed over the Colorado on my trip into Arizona four weeks earlier, I had been speeding along on the very busy I-10 and had time for only a one-second glance at the river so I was determined to make a stop here. I crossed over the Colorado at Parker, Arizona, and then turned north onto the Parker Dam Road on the California side looking for access to the river. After a few miles I passed a trailer park retirement community that was not gated. I entered and parked along the edge of a wide beach that fronted the river and then walked across the sand to sit at a picnic table that was set right beside the river. I let the soothing yet powerful ambiance of this ancient waterway seep into my skin and bones, and I resolved that on my next trip to Arizona I will definitely camp for several days along the banks of the Colorado as well as descend to the river on a hike down into the Grand Canyon. I can hardly wait!
Refreshed, I continued on my journey west and was soon travelling in familiar territory on Highway 62 through the wide and lonely expanse of the Sheephole Valley Wilderness. So beautiful!
I arrived at the town of Twentynine Palms, treated myself to a night in a hotel, and early the next morning I revisited Joshua Tree National Park and walked the Pine City trail, a quiet and peaceful out and back trail of 6 kilometres that led to a small cluster of mature junipers and pinyon trees hidden amidst a great jumble of immense boulders.
It was a weekend, and the park was very very busy so I carried on to Black Rock Canyon Campground where only one campsite was available and it was the same excellent site that I had occupied a month before! I felt at home and I took the whole day to rest, read, putter about, walk a bit, and ready myself for the gruelling drive back to Vancouver on I-5. That three-day drive, though intense and tiring, went smoothly and I arrived back home, safe and sound, after a wonderful journey of 4838 miles (7786 km), through a multitude of environments and a wealth of experiences and memories. Thank you so much for having joined me on that journey, and blessings to you all.
“ By the beauty of the desert, the Creator gives you a gift. The desert allows us to experience a certain quietness within.” Daniel Preston, Tohono O’Odham
It was a very cold night up on my hilltop campsite and after a restless sleep I woke to find frozen condensation on my car windows. The sun was just rising and a cold and very strong wind tried hard to douse the flames on my camp stove as I prepared my coffee and breakfast. I was all bundled up in a jacket, hat, scarf and gloves but it was still too cold to eat outside so I retreated to the driver’s seat of my Toyota, thankful to be out of the wind! I wondered why in the world I had left the warmth of southern Arizona to travel up to the high country, but of course that question was answered as soon as I arrived, some 40 minutes later, at the beautiful red rock country that surrounds Sedona.
The sun did its job to warm the earth and the temperature was perfect for a hike as I arrived at the parking lot for the Bell Rock and Courthouse Butte hikes. Sedona is a very popular hiking and biking destination and I was lucky to get one of the last available parking spots even though it was still only 7:30 a.m. I was so excited by the colour of the earth and the shapes of the rock formations as I set off towards Bell Rock which is on the left below.
I hiked past Bell Rock,
and headed towards Courthouse Butte to circle around it on a loop of about six kilometres of fairly easy and very scenic hiking. This is Courthouse Butte, beautifully lit by the morning sun.
The views of the butte were constantly changing as I circled around it,
and it was fun to cross several small streams that flowed over the red rocks, constantly eroding and sculpting this landscape.
From Couthouse Butte Trail, I continued on the Big Park Loop which led across a large wash and then headed back towards Bell Rock where rock cairns marked a route to guide hikers up onto the formation.
It started out easy, but some sections required rock scrambling and the use of foot and hand holds. It was very fun, and the views back towards the north were spectacular!
I climbed perhaps two thirds of the way up Bell Rock and felt very proud of myself as well as thrilled to be here.
Back at the parking lot, there was a bit of a traffic jam with hikers and tourists circling for spots, and that was also the case at the parking area for a visit to the Chapel of the Holy Cross. This spectacular church dominates a hillside overlooking Sedona and is a very popular stop for visitors because of the architectural beauty of the church and also its excellent views. I sat for a few moments in the dim and restful interior and I also enjoyed a peaceful moment beside a small fountain with its charming sculpture of Saint Francis.
From the viewing deck outside the church I had a great view to the south of Courthouse Butte and Bell Rock. It felt very satisfying to see where I had hiked!
After my visit to the church I had already had enough of crowds and traffic so I decided not to stop in the busy town of Sedona which is known for its many resorts, spas, restaurants, shopping, and New Age vibe. I had originally planned a second hike for today along Oak Creek in West Sedona but that trail was closed due to flooding. It was now a very warm day and I was feeling a bit tired after my less-than-restful night so I made my way to the local public library. I had to decide whether to keep my upcoming camping reservation at the Grand Canyon. I had been checking the Grand Canyon weather regularly throughout my entire trip, nervous about the constant “Snowfall Warnings”, road closures, and nighttime temperatures that were falling well below freezing (the South Rim of the Grand Canyon sits at an elevation of 7000 feet). Sure enough, that was still the forecast and so I made the decision to cancel my reservations and visit the Grand Canyon on my next trip to Arizona. I then researched and planned my route home and, happy to be organized, I returned to Dead Horse Ranch State Park and in the late afternoon I visited the Tuzigoot National Monument located nearby.
Tuzigoot is a pueblo, largely reconstructed, that was built by the Sinagua on a hilltop above the resource-rich Verde River valley. The first rooms were built around the year 1100, and by the late 1300s the pueblo had grown to be a large complex of 87 rooms, 23 second-story rooms, and a central plaza.
The oldest archaeological finds in the Verde valley are of obsidian arrow points from about 13,0000 years ago. Like their ancient ancestors, the Sinagua who built this pueblo were hunters of small and large game but they were also farmers who grew corn, cotton, squash and beans, and they cultivated agave and prickly pear for food and fibres. They produced undecorated pottery and fine cotton textiles, and they also utilized the mineral resources of the area (blue azurite, green malachite and red argillite) to create paints, elaborate jewellery, and small carvings. They also mined salt in the nearby hills which was a valuable item of trade.
More recent inhabitants of the Verde Valley have also relied upon the rich mineral resources of this area, principally copper, which was discovered by prospectors in the 1880s and led to the founding of the towns of Cottonwood, Clarkdale, and the “billion dollar town” of Jerome which was visible to me up on a mountainside in the distance. An interpretive panel informed me that the large flat area below is the site of five million tons of copper mine tailings spread over 116 acres! Strong winds would often swirl over the area and create choking orange dust storms so in 2006 the site was capped and revegetated. Astounding!
This view from the highest point at Tuzigoot looks south over the valley. The Verde River is marked by the line of tall gray trees, and the very dark trees on the floodplain below are mesquite. By the 1300s, Tuzigoot was part of a network of at least 40 settlements in the area with permanent dwellings and associated farmlands.
Back at camp, the sun was lowering and that cold wind was blowing again and I had to park my car facing into the wind to block it as much as possible while I cooked up my dinner under the back hatch. I ate my noodles and salmon straight from the pot in the driver’s seat, out of the wind, and didn’t relish a long cold evening in the car. Luckily there was a laundromat in Cottonwood so I was able to read, use wifi, and chat for a while with others until 8 p.m. before heading back to camp in the warmth of the car, more ready for the night and with all clean clothes to boot.
I had a great sleep even though the nighttime temperature again fell below zero. I had prepared a peanut butter and jam sandwich the night before and had planned on getting a gas station coffee so in a matter of minutes I was up and on the road, headed again to Sedona for a morning hike at Cathedral Rocks. I was one of the first arrivals at the parking lot and although the day was quickly warming up there was still some frost sparkling prettily on the grasses and other plants.
The trail started off in the flat lands of the Oak Creek valley and then began to rise up onto the red rocks. The curving line of trees below shows the course of Oak Creek as it flows southwest where it will eventually join the Verde River.
I was still enjoying finding frosty plants to photograph in areas of shade as I walked along and I accidentally got off trail. I noticed quite early, and was easily able to find my way back, but it was a lucky accident because I finally saw a mule deer, my only sighting of a large mammal on my entire Arizona trip. It was a special moment and I lingered for a while, all alone and very still, hoping it would reappear. It did not, but I was very happy nonetheless to have had a glimpse.
The trail was wonderful, not yet busy, and Cathedral Rock was spectacular!
Again, the views of the butte changed as I circled around it,
revealing tall sculpted spires and multi-coloured layers of rock.
Unfortunately the trail up onto Cathedral Rock was closed for maintenance so I continued along on the Templeton trail which was like a long red sidewalk circling around the base of Cathedral Rock. It was wonderful walking!
I hiked on for several more kilometres until I reached a large grassy field, with great views back to Cathedral Rock and forward up the Oak Creek valley, and I stopped here for a brief rest before starting the return journey along the same route.
By now, the trail was getting busy with other hikers and mountain bikers yet I didn’t mind. I had had the entire morning almost all to myself in this spectacular landscape and I was very very happy. It was approaching noon and the valley floor alongside Oak Creek was now warm and summery instead of cold and decorated with frost, and when I reached the parking lot cars were waiting for a spot.
Again, I had planned a second hike in the area, but I was feeling very satisfied with my morning excursion and had little desire to drive through or spend time Sedona so I headed back to Cottonwood and my campsite at Dead Horse Ranch State Park. I had some lunch and a refreshing shower and then I gave my Toyota a thorough cleaning in preparation for starting my journey home on the morrow. Then, in the late afternoon I consulted the park’s trail map and decided to walk the Tavasci Marsh trail based on the name alone. It was wonderful! There were huge old cottonwoods,
and dark mesquite trees on a field of deep green grass and purple mustard. I was on the plain below Tuzigoot with views of the monument on the hillside!
The trail led to an appealing wagon track that skirted between the edge of the field and the large marsh.
It was very quiet here, with just the occasional rustling of the dry reeds and grasses in the breeze. The trail then looped around and through the grassy field and dark mesquite trees towards the river. One thing that I had definitely learned on this trip is that as you drive through the expanses of desert it can often look very bleak and dull, but when you stop and walk there are so many things to see. The geology lends form and structure to the land while the many and varied plant communities add colour, shapes, textures and a strong life energy to the scene. Add in the call of a hawk, the quick scurry of a lizard, and small glimpses into the human occupation of this challenging land over millennia and you have a place that is compelling, beautiful, and not in the least bleak and dull.
I felt very grateful to be in this special and quite unique place on my last day before heading home, and I was happy to be ending my trip with the knowledge that I will definitely return to Arizona to explore more of its desert and mountain landscapes, communities, and historical sites.
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.
Casa Grande Ruins National Monument, Globe Arizona, Besh Ba Gowah, Windy Hill Recreation Site, Tonto National Monument, Roosevelt Lake and Dam
March 20-23, 2023
From Tucson Mountain Park and Saguaro National Park West I headed northeast on quiet, secondary highways to arrive at Casa Grande Ruins National Monument located on the outskirts of Coolidge, Arizona. This magnificent four-story building, part of a larger village complex, was completed around 1350 by the Hohokam peoples who created similar Great Houses in the region, all sited alongside systems of irrigation canals.
Casa Grande, named by early Spanish explorers, is built along north/south and east/west lines and is thought by modern archaeologists to have had astronomical and ceremonial purposes as openings align with the sun and moon at specific times including the summer solstice. Protected from the elements by a large shelter, access inside the monument is not possible, but a series of interpretive panels, as well as a small museum in the Visitors Centre, gave context to this impressive site and the people who built it.
The Hohokam, descended from hunter-gatherers who lived in Arizona for thousands of years, began to build permanent settlements around the Salt and Gila Rivers around the year 300 CE. They also built vast canal systems, tapped groundwater, and diverted storm runoff to irrigate their fields of squash, beans, corn, cotton, and agave, and they participated in extensive trade networks that stretched to the Pacific shores of California, the Colorado Plateau, the Great Plains, and northern and central Mexico. As well as their cultivated foods, the Hohokam availed themselves of all that the surrounding desert had to offer. They hunted rabbits and other small mammals as well as mule deer, javelina, and big horn sheep from the nearby mountains. They snared or hooked fish, waterfowl and turtles from the rivers and gathered wood and basketry materials from riverside stands of reeds, cottonwood, and willow. They gathered mesquite pods that were eaten whole or pounded into meal and they also ate wild amaranth, saguaro, cholla, hedgehog and prickly pear cactus fruits. It was an impressive existence in a harsh land of extremes, and I also marvelled at the puzzle-solving abilities of archaeologists who try to piece together and understand the complex array of cultures that migrated, inter-mingled, lived, built on, and transformed this land over the centuries and millennia.
From Casa Grande, I made my way to the very scenic Highway 60 that heads east up to and through a pass between the Superstition and the Pinal Mountains. Unfortunately, the road was very busy and fast with lots of truck traffic and it was almost impossible to stop for photos of the dramatic rocky hillsides. I did manage to pull over a few times,
and I absolutely had to stop to photograph this astounding mountain of tailings from a large copper mine outside of Miami, Arizona (it went on for miles!). This region of Arizona that I was travelling through was explored and mined in the 1800s by hunters of silver and gold, and later copper, and its modern-day mines hold some of the largest copper reserves in the United States.
Soon I reached the town of Globe and proceeded directly to the Besh Ba Gowah museum which features a partially reconstructed pueblo, built between the years 1250 and 1450 by the Salado. Culturally related to the Hohokam, and named after the Salt river by archaeologists, the Salado were farmers, hunters, crafts people, and traders. Excavated in the 1930s, this large site delivered the most extensive collection of Salado artefacts ever recovered.
The complex featured two-story homes, a central plaza, a ceremonial building, and rooms dedicated to specialized crafts that included jewellery making, weaving, basketry and decorated pottery. Like Casa Grande, this pueblo was part of a vast trading network. Shells from the Baja Peninsula, the California coast, and the Gulf of Mexico were found here, as well as brightly-coloured Macaw feathers and copper bells from Mexico. Many examples of pottery, decorated in different styles and created in different regions of Arizona, Colorado, and New Mexico were also found here as well as a wide array of tools and household objects.
I spent a long time on the grounds and in the small but comprehensive museum here and continued to learn more about how the ancestral peoples of the area were able to use the resources of the desert to survive and flourish.
I then visited the town of Globe which first sprang up in the 1880s when silver and copper were found here. The main street features attractive Victorian-era brick buildings, many of which now house antique and second-hand shops, as well as cafes, bars, and western-themed saloons. The town is popular on weekends with visitors, tourists, and bargain-hunters arriving from Phoenix, Tucson, and elsewhere.
I was here on a weekday and most of the second-hand shops only have weekend hours, but luckily the Cobre Valley Center for the Arts, housed in the stately 1906 Gila County Courthouse, was open. Run by a member-supported non-profit, the centre sold a range of arts and crafts including paintings, pottery, jewellery, woodwork, metal work, photography, and some very beautiful quilts. There was even a rather fine collection of vintage clothing that was fun to browse through. I really enjoyed my time there, walking on old fir floors through tall-ceilinged rooms and admiring all of the creativity and artistry on display.
From Globe, I connected to Highway 188 for a beautiful drive north to the Windy Hill Recreation Site campground run by the Tonto National Forest Service. Sited above and beside the huge reservoir of Roosevelt Lake, the campground had many loops and hundreds of sites but it was not busy at all and I was able to choose a wonderful spot, well away from others and close to the lake. It was beginning to rain, and there was a cold wind blowing so I bundled up, quickly prepared a hot and spicy soup, and enjoyed my meal under the protective cover of my ramada, my eyes on the lake and the fast-moving clouds and my ears happy with the sound of heavy rain drops on the metal roof of my shelter. I was warm and dry, grateful for my meal, my day, and this beautiful place and I allowed myself to do nothing except sit quietly for good long a while. The rain eased off before night fell and I enjoyed a walk around the campsite and along the lake with so much bird life on display. There were ducks and other waterfowl on the lake, including a beautiful Clark’s grebe, and I startled several groups of quail from the bushes as I walked. Small birds flitted between the shrubs and trees, a roadrunner hunted on the grassy edge of the road, and I saw an osprey fly overhead with a good-sized fish clutched in its talons!
I slept well and rose early to another windy and overcast day that threatened rain. I took my time over breakfast and coffee, and then took a short walk around the campground. I was reluctant to leave this peaceful place, but I was also very excited to visit the nearby cliff dwellings of Tonto National Monument so off I went to arrive there just as it opened at 8. There are two ruins here, the Lower Ruin and the 40-room Upper Ruin which is only accessible on a 3-4 hour ranger-guided hike that must be booked long in advance. The Lower Ruin is accessible by way of a steep paved path that switchbacks up the side of a mountain, gaining 350 feet in a half mile. Below in the distance is Roosevelt Lake that was created by the damming of the Salt River in1911.
The hillside was thickly vegetated and there were interpretive panels all along the route that identified some of the plants and provided information about their characteristics and their medical, culinary, or functional uses by the Salado people. For example, the Banana yucca had multiple uses: the buds, flowers and fruits are edible, the sharp-tipped leaves were used as awls, and leaf fibres were woven into mats, sandals, string, ropes, nets and snares while the roots were used to make “an excellent soap and shampoo.” The panels provided a good excuse to stop and catch my breath, and I also stopped often to photograph some of the wildflowers growing on the hillside, including two very distinct types of lupin and some owl clover.
Soon I reached this view of the Upper Ruin which was built around 1300 and occupied until around 1450 CE. Constructed of rock and adobe mud, and making use of a natural cave at the top of a bluff, the rooms of the original dwelling housed about 30 people and their tools, possessions, and stores of food. Water was accessed from a spring far below, but there was also a 100 gallon cistern built on site.
I was the only visitor up there and I spent a good half hour or more with the volunteer guide learning about the people that had lived here. It is thought that the families here were primarily hunters who traded with the farming families that lived along the Salt River in the valley below. Archaeological evidence shows that they were also weavers and basket makers, and that they were part of the same vast trading network that included the people of Casa Grande and Besh Ba Gowah.
Visitors are allowed to walk among the ruins and into several of the small rooms. The wooden posts and roof structures on view are all original. Beams of Arizona walnut were crossed with saguaro cactus strips and then covered by a layer of clay and mud, and 700 year old handprints in the adobe can still be seen on some parts of the floors and walls.
The ruin faces east, with far-reading views over the mountains and Salt River valley, and the volunteer told me that she often sees mule deer and sometimes javelina in the gully below and that a canyon wren visits her daily. The view was indeed beautiful, even verdant, but the desert is still so full of dangers and the punishing extremes of heat and cold, floods and drought. To make a life here certainly required endless hard work, resilience, know-how, and strength. All three of the monuments that I visited in these two days, as well as many other large communal dwellings throughout central and northern Arizona were abandoned around the year 1450 and archaeologists continue to search for clues as to why. The principal conjecture is that many years of severe drought lead to crop failures and a paucity of resources from the desert which then caused competition and warfare among groups as well as migration out of the region. Thankfully, all three of these monuments are protected and continue to be studied so that further knowledge can be acquired to help preserve the past, enrich the present, and guide the future.
From the Tonto National Monument I drove the short distance to see the Roosevelt Lake Bridge that carries traffic on Highway 188,
and then the Roosevelt Dam which was built at the confluence of the Salt River and Tonto Creek in 1911 to help with flood control and water management downstream. I couldn’t help but think about how much archaeological evidence of human occupation along the upper Salt River must have been lost when the valley behind this dam was flooded.
My next destination was Lost Dutchman State Park for two nights of camping. I had originally intended to travel there via State Route 88 which is a narrow and winding gravel road through the Superstition Mountains. Signs warned me though that a section of the road ahead was impassable due to a landslide so I reversed direction, travelled back on 188 towards Globe and then west on Highway 60 which was thankfully less busy than when I first drove it so I was able to travel a bit slower to appreciate the dramatic mountain scenery. Hopefully, I can travel State Route 88 on my next visit to Arizona when I will definitely camp again at Windy Hill and return to the Tonto National Monument to participate in the guided hike to the Upper Ruin. There is still so much to see and learn!
