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April 28, 2004

Tentburger

This is part 2. If you haven't read the previous post, it's sort of introductory to this.

Alrighty. So let's say you're in Phoenix and you're headed for the Sierra Ancha wilderness. You head east to Apache Junction. Trust me. I have that part figured out. Now when you get to AJ, you must make a choice. You can head northeast on the Apache Trail Highway, or you can head southeast on Highway 60 through the crusty mining towns of Superior and Globe. The Apache Trail is a beautiful route. So I'm told. As long as you didn't get a late start and it's not pitch black as your 2-car caravan skitters around hairpin switchbacks on dirt roads 800 feet above the gaping canyons below, which you didn't realize were that deep until you get to the bottom where the mysterious black van is parked on the other side of one several one-lane bridges, and you look up at the outline of the cliffs against the starry sky and realize what was in the inky dark to your left the whole way down. It will also take you an hour and a half longer to take that route compared to the other. Not the greatest plan with 4 kids in the back seat.

There were other...regrettables...from that night. But um, it was a dry run. Yeah, that's what it was. Next time, see, we'll have it all figured out. After a couple beers, Amanda was even willing to concede that it's a nice place to camp out...as long as we NEVER. EVER. take that road again.

Noted. Heartily.

So here are some pictures.

My precious cargo...before 4 hours of driving. :-/

Doritos on the rocks.

The discovery that burnt wood can be used to draw on rocks, and shirts and pants and faces.

The initial testing of how ice cold the water really is.

Here we see the tragedy of Giselle taking a spill in the freezy water. At this point, she is crying, screaming, and ranting all at the same time.

And here, we see Aunt Jennifer testing the water to see what all the fuss is about. In the distance, we find Giselle taking a load off while Amanda grabs a towel and dry clothes. Giselle is still ranting and crying--voicing conspiracy theories of whether somebody upstream is putting ice in the water, and how since I was the one who gave them permission to play in the water, this was all pretty much my fault.

The fullness of grief.

But she got better.

These are some of the local creepy crawlies. I've never seen crickets like that before.

A canyon below the Sierra Ancha

Road to the rim

Workman Creek

Posted by Jeremy at April 28, 2004 3:51 AM