- deano
ACB ‘05 Stampede Tidbits
from Todd Zuercher
Record amounts of rain in the months preceding this year’s
Arizona Classic Bronco Stampede ensured this year’s extravaganza would
be like no other in terms of floral beauty and the amounts of water encountered
on the planned trail runs.
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Our run on Friday, March 18th, was entitled “Moore’s
Gulch”. Like many other named landmarks in the Grand Canyon State,
a quick search pulled up no information on how this particular piece of
the landscape got its name. And like most of our runs, the area with the
specific name encompasses only a short part of the whole route that is traversed.
The least scintillating portion of the trip was taken
care of early-an uneventful run up Interstate 17 to the burgeoning hamlet
of Black Canyon City. Leaving the town by way of the town dump (we always
take the scenic route!), we soon found ourselves on a beautiful trail that
snaked its way through the desert, passing fat saguaros, palo verde trees,
and circumnavigating green desert shrubbery whose tentacles rubbed on our
trucks’ paint.
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Our only reminder of civilization on this portion
of the trail were the huge overhead power lines, whose towers stand in the
desert as a monument to the necessities of the ever-encroaching suburbia
coming from the south. Water was flowing in Little Squaw Creek and we dipped
our tires in it several times as we headed south towards Moore’s Gulch.
A short climb here, a small rock-crawling section
there, and before long we were underneath the concrete stanchions of Interstate
17. Eschewing the concrete evidence of high speed travel, we turned eastward
up Moore’s Gulch and looked for a trail to our right that headed up
to the top of a lonely ridgeline.
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This section of the trail required 4 wheel low as
we crawled through gullies and up narrow trails on our way to the scenic
stop at the summit of the ridge. And what a view it was; a 360 degree view
of the beautiful desert below us. To the northwest-the mighty Bradshaws,
to the east-Table Mesa, while mesas and flat desert landscapes stretched
to the south and west.
After soaking in the beauty all around us, and taking
many pictures, we descended the ridge via a narrow path and soon found ourselves
back on graded roads once again.
The occupants of the four Broncos along on this trip
all agreed this was a rare, perhaps once-in-a-lifetime, opportunity to see
the surrounding hills carpeted with green growth and an abundance of flowers.
Tip Top Trip:
Saturday dawned with a familiar hue to the skies overhead;
gray and cloudy. By the time our group of nine vehicles left camp at around
8:30 a.m., the roads were already slippery due to the light rain that was
falling. In the end, the rain wasn’t a problem, and the mud was only
a nuisance.
We headed north from camp along a well-traveled road
and soon found ourselves along the banks of the Agua Fria River. The Agua
Fria is one of those Arizona rivers that is hardly worth of the “river”
moniker most of the time. You might find a gentle stream flowing at times,
but rarely does it impede progress. Today was different though. Since a
crossing hadn’t been attempted by anyone in our party, we scouted
the banks before we found a satisfactory spot to cross.
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Located along the banks of the rarely mighty Agua
Fria are the ruins of a ghost town called Gillett. Gillett, which sprang
up in 1878, was named for the town mill’s superintendent, Dan Gillett.
At its peak, 1200 people called the riverbank home, but there’s little
evidence of their presence today. The mill processed ore from surrounding
mines for several years until it was closed and moved to Tip Top-our destination
for the day. The town quickly faded after the mill closed in the early 1880s,
but managed to exist until the turn of the century as a stage stop on the
road to Phoenix. Robbing stages seemed to be a popular pastime in the area
and so Gillett acquired a reputation as a destination for thieves and desperadoes
of the day. Reading the history books turns up tale after tale of shootouts,
holdups, murders, and hanging. The town’s blacksmith was one of the
most successful thieves in the area until he was finally caught.
On our trip, though, we saw only ruins of a retaining
wall where the mill once stood and the crumbling walls of the Burfind Hotel.
A quick scamper through the brush and we were once again back on the trail
to Tip Top.
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The road gradually became narrower as we climbed to
the summit of Williams Mesa and began the descent into Boulder Canyon. Here
the road descended a steep hillside, hugging the cliffs, with a seemingly
endless carpet of flowers bordering the roadway as we slowly crawled toward
Boulder Creek.
Boulder Creek is aptly named, and a vehicle or two
took a few tries to cross the creek due to high gears and a few other issues
that prevented a smooth crossing.
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From here, we crawled up through the narrow canyon
for several miles until we reached the crumbling remains of Tip Top. Tip
Top was a silver mining town that was founded about the same time as Gillett.
For the first several years, the town didn’t have a post office or
a mill, with those needs supplied by Gillett. The town had about 1200 residents
at its peak along with the usual compliment of saloons, stores, hotels,
laundries, stables, school, and brothel. Apparently four people were killed
during the town’s life; two by gunshot wounds, one by lightning, and
one by a scorpion’s bite. It appears that in the latter case, there
was some debate whether the insect’s bite or the whiskey taken afterward
actually killed the man. Tip Top ran strongly until the mid 1890s when the
federal government demonetized silver and the market crashed. The mine closed
shortly thereafter and although there have been periods since when the mine
was restarted, the town has largely been deserted. On Sunday’s run,
Doug Schulz led the group to the top of the hillside behind Tip Top, where
a head frame from the early 1980s stands against the sky.
Only one building still stands in Tip Top, roofless,
with its adobe and rock walls slowly returning to the earth. In true Arizona
fashion, this building was once the town brewery. Its window openings and
empty door frame offer creative opportunities for photographers who visit
the town site.
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After our break in Tip Top, we continued on the narrow
road up the canyon. Tucked into hillsides along the way are the rock wall
remains of long-gone dwellings and other structures. Although it’s
hard to imagine today, the canyon was once filled with miners and their
families bustling to and fro with their daily activities.
By this time, our group was ready for lunch and a
grassy clearing at the site of an old line shack served as the perfect location
for our group to “circle the wagons” and break out the sandwiches.
This also happened to be when the skies opened and gave their greatest rainfall
for the day. Somehow though, when the food comes out and the hoods go up,
it seems like Bronco enthusiasts could be in the middle of a hurricane and
just not mind too much.
From our lunch spot, we headed to camp along the same
route that we had traversed on the way up, stopping frequently along the
way to enjoy the scenery and take many pictures.
As we neared the Agua Fria once again, we met up with
a few more club members who entertained us with their river crossing techniques
in their uniquely modified Broncos.
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We returned to camp, grateful for the experience of
seeing more beautiful Arizona scenery in full bloom.
Sources:
Catch the Stage to Phoenix. Leland L. Hatchett, Jr.
Central Arizona Ghost Towns. Robert L. Spude and Stanley W. Paher
