Our Desert Lands

August 31, 2009 © Thomas J. Kollenborn. All Rights Reserved.

The Superstition Wilderness Area and the desert that surrounds it is a vast region of a delicately balanced eco-system. There is no eco-system in the world more fragile than a desert environment except for the high latitude tundra. Humankind has for centuries played a major role impacting the Upper Sonoran Desert.

The various Native American groups have used the region for several thousand years in subsistence hunting and gathering modes. Their use of these fragile ecosystems mildly impacted them. Many of the ancient archaeological sites found in the area today are a mute testimony to the existence of these cultures. The ancient sites are rapidly disappearing as the desert continues to be developed. Most development allows no desert greenbelts at all for minimal survival of fauna and flora in the Sonoran Desert, unless you want to call a golf course a greenbelt. It is a tragic sacrifice for what we get in return. Our gift in return is more air pollution, more traffic, more water quality problems and more crime.

Early prospectors searched for mineral wealth in these mountains long before the tales and myths of lost gold and treasure emerged. There is some evidence that suggests early Mexican prospectors from Sonora and along the Gila River may have entered the region of Superstition Mountains as early as 1799.

The first American miners penetrated the area about 1863. These were small parties of prospectors coming down from the Bradshaw Mountains near Prescott during the winter months. Once silver was discovered in the Pinal Mountains in late 1860’s the Anglo-American population began to grow in the area. The miners and prospectors were soon followed by the cattlemen. The early years of the cattle barons were totally unregulated. Thousands of cattle roamed the canyons and mountains of the Superstition Wilderness Area.

One of the earliest of the cattlemen was Robert A. Irion. He arrived in the area with a herd about 1878 from Wyoming. His ranch was located half-way between Miami and Superior at what we call Sutton’s Summit today. Irion brought beef on the hoof to feed the miners at Globe and the Silver King. He was followed by other cattlemen like Jack Fraser, Ed Horrell and W.J. Clemans. Fraser started his herd with three hundred head of cattle won in a poker game at the Silver King Hotel. When Fraser sold out to W.J. Clemans in 1909, more than 5,000 head of cattle roamed the Superstition range. All of this activity severely impacted the fragile Sonoran Desert ecosystem. Regulated grazing was introduced to the Superstition Wilderness with the formation of the Tonto Preserve in 1909. The purpose of the preserve was to protect the watershed of the Salt River drainage system rather than the fragile ecosystem of the Sonoran Desert. The creators of the Salt River Drainage Basin feared overgrazing would cause severe soil erosion therefore destroy the drainage basin planned for natural runoff. When Roosevelt Dam was completed in March of 1911 the Salt River had finally been controlled. Flooding was prevented along the river. Water storage for the Salt River Valley was then reality.

After the turn of the century and the death of Jacob Waltz, of Lost Dutchman fame, hundreds of treasure hunters, gold prospectors, and promoters searched the area for gold. Their efforts produced several books and a few permanent scars on the land. Their unique history still survives to this day, but in reality did little damage to the Sonoran Desert. Those permanent scars are now monuments to the determination and tenacity of those who searched for gold and treasure, right or wrong.

The cattlemen, prospectors, miners, and treasure trove hunters for more than a hundred and twenty years have impacted the Superstition Wilderness Area. The hundreds of holes produced by these people not only scared the landscape but also created dangerous pitfalls for the innocent or novice adventurer. Their many trails lead from one place to another and then to no where.

During the mid-1960’s the wilderness received yet another kind of human impact. The impact caused by the recreationist. This group fell into two large categories, the hikers and horsemen. The overuse and the improvement of the trail system for these recreational users created a critical management problem for forest service. These new trail systems impacted the terrain to such a degree the trails were visible from space, the air and high vantage points.

The shear numbers of recreationists who use the Superstition Wilderness have heavily impacted the trailheads, trails, water sources, and campsites. This impact dramatically affected the fauna and flora. Stone rings used for campfires are found throughout the wilderness even though the forest rangers have a campaign to reduce them.

There are areas where the vegetation is totally denuded, even in isolated and remote locations. There are three modern forms of litter found throughout the wilderness since the 1960s. They are filters from cigarettes, pop-tops from cans and gum wrappers. These are monuments to contemporary human occupancy and use of the region in the 20th Century. Maybe in the 21st Century we will realize how important open space and desert greenbelts will be to future generations. If we don’t recognize the importance of desert greenbelts most of the upper Sonoran Desert life zone will be lost to our society and future generations.

If we are to maintain the beauty and solitude of this urban wilderness and the desert around it we need to examine our priorities and express concern about what is happening to our lifestyle here in the desert. Apache Junction has become one of the most unique areas in the Salt River Valley (in addition to Scottsdale) to make an attempt to preserve portions of the Sonoran Desert. How important is this desert lifestyle? Ask any real estate agent about property values adjacent to forest service lands in the Apache Junction area.

The desert has always been a part of our lifestyle. If we are to enjoy this beautiful desert we must educate people on how to care for it and how delicate it really is. We must also learn how to preserve it for the future. This we must do now. The City of Apache Junction has taken an initiative to protect natural areas in greenbelts. Hopefully the citizen’s of our community will support these attempts to preserve the desert for future residents of our unique desert community.

Recently a business magazine of international significance (BusinessWeek) ranked Apache Junction as the fourth best city in the United States to retire in. Believe me we will need these desert preserves for future generations who will be living here in the desert.

The Apache Trail in a Model-T

August 24, 2009 © Thomas J. Kollenborn. All Rights Reserved.

Phil Rauso recently called me up and asked me if I would like to go for a ride in his Ford Model T over the Apache Trail. He included an invite for breakfast at Tortilla Flat. This call was on Monday, August 17, 2009. I met Phil at the legendary Bluebird Mine and Curio shop on the Apache Trail about four miles northeast of Apache Junction at 7:30 a.m. My expectation was riding over the Apache Trail in a ninety-five year old vintage automobile designed by Henry Ford.

When Phil arrived with his car I was astonished at its condition. The radiator, lights and trim were highly polished brass. The black paint on the vehicle was absolutely spectacular. It was the original Ford black with several coats of lacquer.

The vehicle was actually called a “Hack Cab”. The car had been used to transport people from the train depot to hotels in Chicago between 1915 and 1927 when the car was finally retired. Phil and Debbie Rauso purchased the car in Chicago from a museum, brought it to Arizona and restored it. “Hack Cabs” could carry six people because they had a special body design. Actually the “Old Geezer”, a nickname Phil had for the car, started out as a Ford Model T pickup. The body was removed and the “Hack Cab” body was put on the frame. Phil’s plan for the “Old Geezer” now was to make trips over the Apache Trail and once again give tourist the thrill of riding over the famous mountain road in a vintage vehicle such as the Model T Ford.

Phil arrived at the Bluebird Mine and Curio shop at precisely at 7:30 a.m. I loaded my camera and tripod into his Model T and we were off and running at about thirty miles an hour. Our plan was to stop at Tortilla Flat for breakfast and return to the Bluebird Mine. We stopped briefly near Canyon Lake and took some photos of the “Old Geezer”. We arrived at Tortilla Flat about 9 a.m. and sat down for breakfast. The car attracted a lot of attention on the road and at Tortilla Flat. Few people could believe Phil was driving this ninety-five year old car over the Apache Trail. The car was quite valuable and many people just couldn’t imagine him doing this.

After breakfast at Tortilla Flat and several discussions with curious tourist we planned to depart. Now remember, we were in an old Model T Ford that was totally open. The sun was quite warm and the temperature was beginning to climb. We were two bold men when we decided to do the infamous and legendary Fish Creek Hill with the Model T on a warm summer day. If we had picked a cool winter day the traffic would have been impossible. Phil had been told the “Old Geezer” would never pull Fish Creek Hill. If we went down the ten per cent grade we could never get the car back up the hill on its on. We had our challenge, “Do Fish Creek Hill.

We departed Tortilla Flat about 10 a.m. driving east toward Mesquite and Rye Creek. On the paved road the “Old Geezer” did fine, however we didn’t know for sure how the car would perform on the unimproved portion of the Apache Trail (State Route 88). Here we were riding along an officially designated Arizona historical road in a 1915 Model T Ford Hack Cab. As we drove along the paved portion we thought about the many almost weekly headlines from the 1920’s— Headlines about the horseless vehicles that were tested on the infamous ten per-cent grade of Fish Creek Hill. Many of these cars passed the test, but many of them also failed. Some old Fords had to back up steep hills because of the location of their fuel tanks.

The pavement finally ended some five miles east of Tortilla Flat and we were now on a rough dirt road filled with potholes and washboards. Now the “Old Geezer” began to shake and rattle like a bucket of bolts. The Model T suspension let us feel each bump and hump. I commented that we were now experiencing a 1915 ride over the Apache Trail. Phil certainly agreed with my comment.

We soon understood why the old timers wore dusters and goggles. The first real grade on a rough dirt road began as we passed the Tortilla Ranch Trailhead and climbed to the top of Fish Creek Hill arriving at the vista parking lot. Once on top, we stopped and looked down. Just for a moment, you have to wonder if we were not making a mistake taking a car this old down Fish Creek Hill.

We started descending the hill. Phil placed the car in its lowest gear and often braked as we drove down. We finally reached Inspiration Point about one third of the way down. We stopped here to stretch our legs and catch our breath. What breath-taking scenery there was from Inspiration Point! It was here I got out of the car with my camera and started walking down Fish Creek Hill toward the bridge. I wanted to find a good vantage point to take photographs of the car coming down the hill. For a moment I thought about walking down Fish Creek Hill. When my Uncle Riley Brunson use to freight for the Packard Store in Tonto Basin my Aunt Elise walked down Fish Creek Hill because my uncle thought it was to dangerous for her and the children to ride. He felt teams and wagons were too unpredictable to risk his family.

I thought about Aunt Elise as I walked down Fish Creek Hill. At some point I got back into the old Model T and watched carefully as Phil skillfully negotiated the hill. From Inspiration Point to Fish Creek Bridge is about one mile. At five miles per hour it took us a while to get to the bottom. We crossed Fish Creek Bridge and stopped for a breather. We rested and had a drink of water before our planned climb up Fish Creek Hill in the old car.

Phil started “Old Geezer” but the car died on us. He tried several times. All of a sudden I could envision us hiking up Fish Creek Hill and back to Tortilla Flat. Finally the old car started and kept running. I jumped in and we began a historic climb to the top. This is probably the first 1915 Model T to climb Fish Creek Hill in eighty-five years or more.

Climbing the hill in “Old Geezer” I was on the outside looking down into Fish Creek Canyon. The side of the canyon is a graveyard of rusting old hulls of cars that didn’t make it. Some of the cars were a thousand feet below the road’s edge. The old Model T was doing great on the climb back to the top of Fish Creek. My heart probably was running faster than the engine; after all if we went over the side I would be the first one over. It is always more fun to be first, right?

It was a slow climb to the top, and for the most part uneventful except for the beautiful scenery and spectacular vistas. The “Old Geezer” climbed Fish Creek Hill without any problems at all. It was quite an experience to ride in a ninety-five year old car on the Apache Trail all the way from the Bluebird Mine and Gift Shop to the Fish Creek Canyon Bridge and back.

Apache Junction Dance Pavilion

August 17, 2009 © Thomas J. Kollenborn. All Rights Reserved.

The recent press coverage about the legality of outdoor dancing at San Tan Flats (Pinal County at Ellsworth Road and the Hunt Highway) reminds me of the interesting times in the early days of Apache Junction.

In 1923, George Cleveland Curtis started his roadside business at the “Y” of U.S. Highway 60 and the Apache Trail when there wasn’t much out here but Creosote bushes, Palo Verdes, Saguaros, Jack rabbits, coyotes and rattlesnakes. Curtis depended on the traffic along the Apache Trail and U.S. Highway 60 for his business.

Curtis eventually sold gasoline, towed broke-down cars, served food, cold drinks and sold trinkets to make a living for his wife, Aruroa and their three daughters. The highway was paved in 1928 and this changed things considerably and brought a lot more traffic down U.S. 60. The construction of Mormon Flat Dam (1923-1925) and the Horse Mesa Dam (1925-1927) increased business for Curtis.

Curtis was always looking for another ingenious way to generate revenue for his business. First it was a zoo of desert wild animals, then sometime in the late 1920s he decided to build an outdoor dance pavilion. The dance pavilion became a very popular weekend site for young couples from Mesa and Tempe. Curtis invited many different bands to play at the Pavilion. One of the most popular bands was Merrill Robbins’ “Flat and Sharps” western band from Glendale, Arizona. For many years I was led to believe Merrill Robbins was related to Marty Robbins even though Marty Robbins’ real name was Martin Robinson. Marty Robbins was born in Glendale in September of 1925. Yes, Merrill Robbins could have encouraged Marty Robbins as a young lad to become interested in the guitar. However, others have reported Marty taught himself the guitar while he was in the Navy during World War II.

Again this is what legends and myths are made of.

Now back to outdoor dancing in Pinal County. Many people have questioned the situation that developed at San Tan Flats. Others have presumed outdoor dancing was legal for years because of the outdoor dance pavilions at such places as Riverside Park, Encanto Park and, of course, the Apache Junction Pavilion in the late 1920s and through most of the 1930s. Most individuals with common sense understand how disturbing loud outdoor music can be for a home in a residential area. However, when a business has been approved and then new rules are applied to control or shut down that business it is very difficult for the general public to accept. The noise issue in residential areas becomes quite moot when dealing with other factors that create noise.

What about airplanes, noisy exhaust systems on cars and motorcycles? Motorcycle exhaust systems are known to vibrant the walls of homes as they go by. Sometimes the noise decibels far exceed hearing safety standards for those individuals impacted.

Some of the earliest outdoor dancing occurred here in Apache Junction on Curtis’ dance pavilion in 1920’s and 1930’s. Also outdoor dancing was performed at the “Theater in the Hills’ in 1935. More than 5,000 people attended the 1935 production of “The Legend of Superstition Mountain.” Outdoor dancing was common at the Top of the World, a once popular place half way between Superior and Globe. Even the Mormon town of St. Johns had an outdoor dancing pavilion for dancing in the middle of town.

My wife and I love to dance and we have been dancing off and on for almost fifty years. We often dance to several western bands in the valley, also up at Globe and even St Johns occasionally. Dances were often scheduled in Superior and the Martin’s often took old Hermann Petrasch to the dances so he could play his fiddle. His ties to the Dutchman’s Lost mine are well known by historians.

Outdoor dancing still occurs in Arizona and it is still popular.

Dancing has been around since human beings have existed and outdoor dancing in Arizona has been popular since pioneer days, even in Apache Junction at the base of Superstition Mountain. Well, old time prospectors attended these dances in Apache Junction and told stories about the mountains. Curtis’ dance pavilion was probably the first gathering place for storytellers of the Old Lost Dutchman mine in the Apache Junction area. My father and mother attended some of Curtis’ outdoor dances and listen to old timers tell stories about the old “Dutchman” and the gold he allegedly found in the Superstition Mountains.