195705 Desert Magazine 1957 May

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HISTORIC PANORAMAS III

The G e r o n i m o M o n u m e n tBy JOSEF and JOYCE MUENCHThis stone monument on U.S. Highway 80 in south-eastern Arizona 10 miles from the New Mexico border,commemorates the end of all Indian warfare in theUnited States. A few miles east, in Skeleton Canyon,the Apache Geronimo surrendered to U.S. Army troopson September 5, 1880. He and his followers were sentto Fort Pickens, Florida, for two years before beingallowed to join their families in Ala bam a. Ger onim ohimself was later moved to Fort Sill, Oklahoma, wherehe remained for the rest of his life.

Travelers passing the lonely pillar with its legend,can hardly be expected to comprehend the differencebetween the present peace of the region and what earlysettlers tell of life with the Apaches apt to appear fromany clump of brush or hidden canyon mouth.If it meant peace to the white man, the surrenderspelled to the Indian the cancelling of a 400 year oathto keep his foes from the desert land with its rolling

hills and valleys, its mountains and freedom.Old stone metates are imbedded in the monumentshaft.D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


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DESERT CRLEnDflRApril 29-May 1923rd Annual Jun-ior Indian Art Show, Museum ofNorthern Arizona, Flagstaff.May 1Annual Reunion and Picnicof the Buckeye and West GilaValley Old Settlers Union, atBuckeye, Arizona.May 1 F iesta and Spring Corn

Dance, San Felipe Pueblo, NewMexico.May 1-4Las Damas Trek, Wicken-burg, Arizona.May 3Santa Cruz Corn Dance andCeremonial Races, Taos, N. M.May 3-4 Annual Regional MusicFestival, Tucson.May 3-5Cinco De Mayo Celebra-tions (Mexican Independence Day)at Nogales and Gilbert, Arizona,and other border towns.May 4-5Saugus, California, AnnualRodeo.May 4-5Desert Panorama Exhibits,China Lake, California.May 4-5, 11-1230th presentation ofthe Ramona Pageant, Hemet, Calif.May 5 Colorado River Regatta,Parker, Arizona.May 5Blythe, California, Women'sRiding Club Stampede and Rodeo.May 10 Golden Spike Ceremony,Promontory, Utah.May 10-11 Eastern New MexicoUniversity Rodeo, Portales.May 10-12 Lone Pine, California,Stampede.May 11-12Santa Barbara and Riv-erside Chapters of the Sierra Clubjoint trip to Joshua Tree NationalMonum ent, California. Camp atHidden Valley.May 11-2631st Annual WildflowerShow, Julian, California.May 12 Desert Protective Councilmeets at Lolomi Lodge, San Ja-cinto Mtns.May 12Palo Verde Festival, Tucson.May 12-13Industrial Days, Hender-son, Nevada.May 14-15 San Ysidro Processionand Blessing of Fields, Taos, NewMexico.May 15-26Spring Landscape Show,Tucson.May 17-1923rd Annual Elks Hell-dorado and Rodeo, Las Vegas, Ne-vada.May 18-19Grubstake Days, YuccaValley, California.May 18-19Tucson Festival Events:Children's Parade on 18th; Fiestade la Placita on 19th.May 22-25 Cotton Carnival, Cal-exico, California.May 22-26Junior Chamber Circus,Lancaster, California.May 25-26Fiesta de San Felipe deNeri , Albuquerque.May 26Horse Show, Sonoita, Ariz.May 26Pictograph Tour of WhiteOaks Three Rivers area, fromAlamogordo, New Mexico.May 27Homecoming Day, Caliente,Nevada.May 27-June 21Historic Map Ex-hibit, Museum of Northern Ari-zona, Flagstaff.May 29-31, June 1 Elks Rodeo,Carlsbad, New Mexico.May 31Spring Jamboree, Valley ofthe Sun Square Dance Festival,Phoenix.May 31, June 1-22nd Annual KidsRodeo, Alamogordo, New Mexico.

V o l u m e 2 0 MAY, 1957 N u m b e r 5CO VERHISTORYCALENDARPIONEERINGWILDF LO WERSG A R D E N I N GN A T U R ECO NTESTPERSONALITIESCLOSE-UPSLO ST MINEPOETRYP H O T O G R A P H YEXPERIENCERECREATIONFICTIONLETTERSDESERT Q U I ZF O R E C A S TN E W SMININGU R A N I U MH O BBYJEWELRYLAP IDARYB O O K SC O M M E N T

Blossom of prickly pear cactus.By HARRY VROMANThe Geronimo MonumentBy JOSEF an d JOYCE MUENCH 2May events on the desert 3Pioneer Ranchers on the YampaBy NELL MURBARGER 4Flowering Predictions for M ay 6Decorative Desert HedgesBy JESSIE CALLAN KENNEDY 9Plants that Thrive in Saline SoilsBy EDMUND C. JAEGERPicture-of-the-Month Contest announcement . .They Harvest Desert GlassBy JANE ATWATERAbout those who write for DesertLost Silver in the TrigosBy HAROLD O. WEIGHTYucca, and other poemsPictures of the Month

How the Sun and a Tortoise Saved Little Denny'sLife, by HELENA RIDGWAY STONE . . .Mountains Are for EveryoneBy LOUISE WERNERHard Rock Shorty of Death ValleyComment from Desert's readersA test of your desert knowledgeSouthwest river runoff predictionsFrom here and there on the desertCurrent news of desert minesLatest developments in the industryGems and Minerals"Solar Wrought" Jewelry from an InexpensiveSun-Powered Kiln, by D. S. HALACY, JR. . .Am ateur Gem Cutter, by DR. H. C. DAKE . . .Reviews of Southwestern LiteratureJust Between You an d Me, by the Editor . . .

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The Desert Magazine is published monthly by the Desert Press, Inc., Palm Desert,California. Re-entered as second class ma tter Ju ly 17, 1948, at the postoffice at Palm Desert,California, under the Act of March 3, 1879. Title registered No. 358865 in U. S. Patent Office,and contents copyrighted 1957 by the Desert Press, Inc. Permission to reproduce contentsmust be secured from the editor in writing.RANDALL HENDERSON, EditorBESS STACY, Business Manager EUGENE L. CONROTTO, Associate EditorEVONNE RIDDELL, Circulation ManagerUnsolicited manuscripts and photographs submitted cannot be returned or acknowledgedunless full retu rn postage is enclosed. Desert Magazine assumes no responsibility fordamage or loss of man uscripts or photo graphs although due care will be exercised. Sub-scribers should send notice of change of address by the first of the month preceding issue.

SUBSCRIPTION RATBSOne Ye ar $4.00 Two Ye ars $7.00Canadian Subscr iptions 25c Extra, Foreign 50c ExtraSubscriptions to Army Personnel Outside U. S. A. Must Be Mailed in Conformity WithP. O. D. Order No. 19687Address Correspondence to Deser t Magaz ine, Palm Deser t , Cal i forn ia

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P i o n e e r R a n g e r so n the Yam pa...Life in the canyon country where the Green and Yampa riversmeet near the Utah-Colorado border still is fraught with pioneer incon-veniences , but here Charl ie and Evelyn Mantle have made the ir home.Their only access to the outside world is a jeep trail that took them 11ye ars to build. But the Mantle s live their full rich live s in an incom-parable canyon settingand feel they are more fortunate than folkswho have to l ive in the more crowded places in the world beyondthe ir peaceful ranch. - > ,

By NELL MURBARGERPhotographs by the s au tho rMap by Norton AllenF T E R W A N D E R I N G f o r m o r e 'than 40 miles through drybroken hills and over wind-swept ridges, the little desert roadscrambled down the side of a rock-rimmed canyon to the green-and-golden cottonwoods on its floor. Stray-ing on through a crooked pole gate,the sandy wheel tracks skirted an oldfruit orchard and a thin crescent ofmeadow hemmed on its far edge bythe brown waters of a sullen river;and in the yard of a small log house

the trail drew up and stopped.Even in this tall wide world of sky-raking cliffs and color, it was the littlebrown house that caught and held myattention. It was the first house I hadseen since leaving Jensen, Utah, 50miles earlier. I was curious to learnwhat sort of folks I would find in thisfar corner of Creation where Hell'sCanyon spills into the Ya mp a. He r-mits, one might suppose; yet, thiswasn't my idea of a hermit's home. Itwas neat as a doll's house ! Old-fash-ioned white roses and red poppieswere blooming in the yard; bowers of

hop and grape vines tumbled over thelog walls; and a dozen varieties ofgreen vegetables grew in a well-tendedgarden.A friendly black-and-white dog camewagging forth to meet me, and thekitchen door eased open to frame theslender figure of a wom an. From thequestioning look on her face, I guessedthat the truck-jeep trail to the Mantleranch doesn't often deliver there lonewomen strangers in old sedans; butafter a brief mom ent, of hesita tion,Evelyn Mantle smiled warmly and ex-tended a firm tanned handand, allof a sudden, I knew what sort offolks lived in the little log house atthe end of the road!I h a d learned of the Mantles fromRandall Henderson, editor of DesertMagazine. While making a boat tripdown the Yampa river, he and hisparty halted briefly at the Mantleranch, and on his return he asked meto get a story of the Mantles whennext I was in their part of the country."I'd like to know who they are,"he said, "and where they came from,

and how long they've been on the river. . . and why."That was the reason I had driven tothe Mantle ranchbut it wasn' t thereason why I took three days to coveran assignment any good reporter couldhav e filled in a few hou rs. I stayedthree days because I liked the placeand the Mantles! The moment Istepped inside their home, it seemedto enfold me, like a charitable motherhen accepting a stray chick; and bysupper time that first evening, I wasa member of the family.For Charlie and Evelyn Mantle,pioneering did not end with the ox-team and Conestoga wagon. In thishigh tumbled - upside - down mergingplace of Utah, Colorado and Wyom-ing, frontier conditions prevailed wellinto the present century, and even to-day, if judged by American standards,the few folks living in this remote landstill are pioneering in the truest sense

of that word.Hearty plain-spoken Charlie Mantlesees nothing glamorous about being apioneer, because he has never knownany other life save that prescribed bythe hard demanding world of the fron-tier. Born in the Yam pa country,Charlie's earliest recollections are ofriding after cattle in the notoriousBrown's Holea region then so farremoved from courts and organizedlaw that it was still a haven for thefugitive renegades of three states.One day, while he was working asa buckefoo, Charlie came upon a stripof bottom land a dozen miles west ofBrown's Hole, in what was known as"the Pat's Hole coun try." He figuredthis land was just about what hewanted, and soon as he was financiallyable, he bought it from an old manwho had claimed it under squatter'sright. In. 1919 Charlie - began the la-borious process of converting the rawacreage into a ranch. Seven years laterhe took another important s teponethat he readily admits was the wisestin his life. > ,

He married Evelyn.

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The marriage was disapproved byboth families. Life on a cattle ranch ,50 miles from the nearest town andaccessible only by pack-animals, isscarcely the preferred setting for a 19-year-old bride from New York whohadn't set foot in the West until fiveyears before, and who knew almostnoth ing of pione ering. But if lovelaughs at locksmiths, there's no reasonwhy it can't chuckle at isolation, priva-tion and hardship.When Charlie Mantle and his teen-age bride traveled home to his cabinon the Yampa in 1926, it was over aroad distressingly bad all the way fromVernal, Utah. But, barring brokensprings, broken axles, ripped-open tires,washouts, landslides and other devel-opments, it could be negotiated to apoint 11 miles from the Mantle ranchand there it ended! Beyond lay theLand of the Pack-horse, without roadsof any sort or descriptionnot even

rutted wheel tracks traversible by ateam of mules and a wagon!While the use of pack animals fora brief camping trip can be an enjoy-able experience, such transportation asa steady diet is both laborious and

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time-consuming, and soon the Mantlesrealized that they would need a roadinto the ranch. Because such a roadwould afford little benefit to anyonebut themselves, they couldn't expectthe state or county to assist with itsbuilding; and since they were not ina position to hire help, the only solu-tion was for Charlie and Evelyn to dothe work themselves.At first Evelyn did not think itwould take too long to do the jobperhaps a few months, she guessed.Other time-demanding tasks, however,seemed always to crowd in ridingafter cattle, branding calves, shoeinghorses, repairing fences, building sheds,cutting wood for winter, taking care

of garden and orchard, canning fruitand vegetables. But whenever camea day or week when other work wasnot too pressing, Charlie and Evelynworked on the roadblasting, movingrock, building retaining walls andmaking fills.Time passed. Winters merged intosummers. A succession of Mantlebabies came to be laid on their blanketsto sleep in the shade of sagebrushwhile Charlie and Evelyn toiled at theirself-assigned task. The "few months'work" stretched into an incrediblenumber of monthsand before theMantle ranch road was in conditionfor the first wheeled vehicle to rollover it, 11 years had passed!

C o l o r f u l M a y W ild flo w e r D i s p l a y sP r e d i c t e d f o t H i g h D e s e r t A r e a sFocus on the 1957 wildflower sea-son shifts to the high desert areas inMay as Desert Magazine correspond-ents make their final report on whathas been a better-than-average year forblossoms.Lucile Weight says the Yucca Val-ley, Joshua Tree and TwentyninePalms areas probably will see many ofthe native shrubs such as cassia andindigo-bush, blooming in late Apriland May. The Joshua trees, in theirgreatest blooming display in years,and Mojave yuccas should still beshowy during the mo nth. Smoke treeand chilopsis will bloom later, prob-ably in Jun e. Eas t of TwentyninePalms, desert lilies may show bloom bylate April along with other annuals.Bruce W. Black, park naturalist atJoshua Tree National Monument, pre-dicts a good May display, althoughdry winds in early April may havetaken th eir toll of the flowers. Ma ri-gold, desert plume, desert dandelionand other flowers will be conspicuousin the Pinto Basin.

From Daggett, California, MaryBeal reports that some areas of theCentral Mojave Desert already areshowing a profusion of bloomtheLockhart Ranch drive north of High-way 466 (desert dandelion, marigold,gold-field, coreopsis, evening primrose,blue and purple lupines, gilia and ver-bena); the Black Rock Canyon area;and Bea r Valley road. She believessome areas along highways 66 and 91will come into bloom late in April.In the Fairmont district of the Ante-lope Valley, Jane S. Pinheiro says mil-lions of golden poppy plants are show-ing. Good displays also are expectedalong the Johnson Hill and WillowSprings roads west of Lancaster. Manylarkspur and mariposa are up in the

Joshua forests and hillside slopes ofthe valley.Most of the wildflower blossoms onthe Colorado desert have passed theirpeak. Dalton Merkel, district natural-ist at Borrego State Park, does not be-lieve many blossoms will be left byMay, although indigo-bush, catalpaand agave may be flowering then.It is doubtful that the CoachellaValley's blossoms will last into May.Severe sandstorms in early April dam-aged many of the flowers then bloom-ing.M. B. Ingham, Jr., naturalist atDeath Valley reports a poor wildflowerdisplay for the mon um ent. W hatflowers there will be during May willbe found above 1500 feet.From Lake Mead National Recrea-tion Area, Naturalist Philip Wellesalso has a discouraging report. Creo -sote, encelia, mallow and a few otherflowers still were in bloom in earlyApril .Encouraging news comes from the

Organ Pipe Cactus National Monu-ment near Ajo, Arizona. Chief RangerJohn T. Mullady says generous rainshave brought up patches of small an-nuals throughout the area which wereexpected to come into bloom in mid-April. He predicts at least a mod eratedisplay, with good chances for an ex-cellent one. James N. Clancy of CasaGrande National Monument is expect-ing a good showing of wildflowers inthe Coolidge, Arizona, area.From Tucson, Robert J . Heying,acting superintendent of Saguaro Na-tional Monument, says the desert there

is in good condition with some scat-tered areas having fine stands of pop-pies, bladder-pod, lupine, mallow, brit-tle bush and many other annuals.

Throughout that entire period, from1926 to 1937, the Mantles had beencompletely dependent on pack horsesfor every pound of goods brought infrom the outsidefood, farm machin-ery, seed, medicine, kerosene, mail everything."Our lives were completely gearedto horses, 24 hours a day, and in allthose 11 years I can't remember ridinga horse when I wasn't carrying a baby,or riding one or two babies on thesaddle in front of m e!" laughed E velyn."You don't do much trotting or gallop-ing when you're riding double, andeven today, when Charlie brings homea new saddle animal, the first thingI ask is 'Can it walk?' "

When I asked Evelyn Mantle howshe got to a doctor when her babieswere born, she looked at Charlie andthey both laughed."Doctor?" remarked Charlie dryly."What's a doctor?""About a month ahead of time,Charlie would begin urging me to goto town so my baby could be born atthe hospital, but there was always somuch to be done at the ranch I'd post-pone the trip from day to day. Finally,when I knew I didn't dare wait anylonger, I 'd start for Vernalon horse-back. For some reason," Evelyngrinned, "the babies always arrivedbefore I did."The Mantles' four boys and a girlall healthy, handsome youngstersreceived their elementary education in

a one-room log schoolhouse a pebble'stoss from the one-room log cabinwhere the Mantles lived during theirfirst 15 years on the ranch. Prior toWorld War II, the school was suppliedeach term with a teacher sent in fromoutside, but with the war-bred teachershortage, isolated districts such as thiswere left unstaffed. Legally, Evelynwas not qualified to teach in Colorado,but in view of the national emergencyshe was permitted to conduct classesfor their three youngest childrentheolder two, by that time, being awayat high school. After completing theirfirst eight grades in the little log schoolhouse, all of the Mantle children at-tended Wasatch Academy, a Presby-terian Mission boarding school atMount Pleasant, Utah, and from therewent on to college. The youngestMantle boy qualified for college entryat the age of 16.Although the isolation of the Mantleranch was improved by completion oftheir access road, it is traversible onlyin summer months the 8000-footplateau between the Yampa and U.S.Highway 40 being buried deeply under

snow generally from December to May.Consequently the Mantles have noregular means of receiving or dis-patching mail during this five-monthD E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


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period of winter isolation, and anycommodities not procured before thepasses close are done without untilthe following summer. The actualdanger involved by such isolation,however, has been greatly alleviatedby the recent construction of an air-strip on the rim of the canyon, andby installation of a two-way radio. Incase of a serious emergency, it nowwill be possible for them to radio forhelp and a plane dispatched from thenearest point available."Sometimes, during the winter, oneof our flyer friends picks up our mailat the postoffice, flies out here, anddrops it to us by parachute," explainedCharlie.When I asked what they would havedone during those years when theywere so completely isolated, if one ofthem had been taken seriously ill orhad been severely injured, Evelyn Man-tle considered my question thought-

fully almost as if it were the firsttime the matter had occurred to her."I'm not quite certain," she said atlast, "but I 'm sure we would havedone the best we knew how!"The Mantles do most of their trad-ing at Craig, Colorado, 100 miles tothe east, with a quarter of thatdistance over the sort of road onemight encou nter in a bad dream . Theirnearest postoffice is at Artesia, Colo-rad o, 50 miles away. In view of thesecircumstances, the Mantle ranch isstill not plagued by modern civiliza-

tion, nor overrun by tourists. Exceptfor an occasional jeep-borne prospec-tor or archeologist, about the onlystrangers who come to the ranch areriver runners.Each year, as long as water in theYampa is high enough to navigate,dozens of outfits run the river fromLily Park to Echo Park or Split Moun-tain; and since the Mantles have theonly ranch on the river for a distanceof 70 miles, many of the river partiesbreak their journey at this point. Toaccommodate these adventurers , theMantles have equipped an attractivefree campground in a grove of cotton-woods with tables, stoves, toilets andwater."All sorts of folks make the run,"said Charlie. "Most of them are goodsportsmen, but now and then a bunchwill leave trash scattered over thecampground, and sometimes a partywill land and head out across our field,50 or 60 abreast. You can imaginewhat that does to our alfalfa cro p! Thebest ones we get are members of theSierra Club. We never have anytrouble with themthey don't leaveany trash behind, and never destroyanything."

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Yam pa Cany on at Castle Park, site oj the Mantle Ranch.A knock at the kitchen door inter-rupted our conversation.It was one of the wettest men Ihave ever seen! He and eight otherofficials of the Colorado State Fish andGame department were surveying wild-life along the river when they were

bucked out of their rubber life raftsby the turbulent water at Little JoeRapids, about a dozen miles upriverfrom the Mantle place. All were badlychilled by their dunking in the icyriver, and one man's leg had beenseverly cut by the boat's propeller.Hastening to the river landing inthe ranch truck, Charlie picked upthe injured man and the remainingmembers of the party, and minuteslater the entire dripping group swarmedinto the Mantles' warm kitchen.Nearly four hours had elapsed since

the mishap and the men were chilledto the bone. Evelyn hurried to divideamong them a pot of hot coffee that

had been perking on the back of thestove, and put two more pots on tobrew, after which she turned her at-tention to the injured m an. He wassuffering from shock and weak fromloss of bloodand since a plane couldnot land before daylight Gil Hunter,leader of the party, thought it advis-able to rush him to a hospital at once.One of their vehicles, Hunter said, wasat Echo Park, where they had expectedto leave the river, and if Charlie wouldtake them to that point about 13milesthey would transport the in-jured man to the hospital at Rangely.Without waiting to eat his supper,Charlie Mantle helped to lift the vic-tim into the ranch pick-up, and he andtwo other members of the river partyheaded out through the night to EchoPark.I had learned a little of what itmeans to live in a house by the sideof the Yampa, "and be a friend toman."


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One-room log schoolhouse where thefive Mantle children received theireducations through the first eight grades.

Identity of the first white man torun the Yampa river isnot fully estab-lished but it seems logical to supposethat he was one of theearly beavertrappers a French -Canadian furtrader, Baptiste Brown, having settledon theY a m p a in 1830 in the arealater known as Brown's Hole, orBrown's Park. The first permanentwhite settler in thePat's Hole-CastlePark area, site of theMantle ranch,appears tohave been Pat Lynch, whoestablished himself there in the1870sor 1880s.P at was an enigma-perhaps evena fugitive. Acco rding towhat Charlieremembers ofhim, and the stories toldby other old timers, Pat had been bornin Ireland. He hadserved a hitch inthe British Navy, andanother in theBritish Army, during or after which,according to rumor , he had killedsome one. Pat fled tothe United Statesand enlisted in the army under thename ofJames Cooper. After rightingin theCivil War he emigrated to theYampa, "to see the country MajorPowell wrote abou t." As Powell's twotrips to thenearby Green River were

in 1869 and 1871, it ispresumed thatPat located on theYampa soon afterthat t ime.A typical hermit, Patraised horsesfor a living and owned several cabinsalong theriver which heoccupied athis convenience. Atvarious times healso lived in several different caves.One day, when Evelyn Mantle was ex-ploring one ofPat's former cave dwell-ings, a gust of wind circled throughthe place and brought out from under

a ledge a collection of dryleavesanddebris. Inthe assortment, Evelyn sawa sheet of folded foolscap, brittle withage andwarped like a potato chip.Opening it carefully, shefound thesewords:To allwhom this mayConsarn

that 1, PatLynch, do layclaim tothis Botom for myHome and Sup-ort. Wrote this 8th m onth of 1886.P . Lynch.

If in these caverns you shelter takePlais do tothem no harm.Lave everything you find aroundHanging up, or on the ground.

As Pat grew older, he developedcertain marked aberrationsone beingan inability todecide whether his truename was Pat Lynch orJames Cooper.The question seemed toworry him agreat deal. Healso developed a pas-sion fordrawing, painting andchisel-ing pictures on thecanyon wallsandwithin hiscaveshis subjects invari-ably being full-rigged sailing ships.According to Evelyn, "Pat 's ships"still may befound throughout the areaand are executed remarkably well, withall masts and rigging properly shown.

Pat lived inthe canyon until hewasnearly 100 years of age. During hislast days hewas cared for by a GoodSamaritan at Maybell, Colorado, andupon his death, in February,1917,burial was made atLily Park near thehead of the Yampa.Toward the end ofmy visit with theMantles , I asked them why they re-mained out in this isolated place.Charlie seemed at aloss for ananswer.He mumbled something about itbeinga good place to raise cattle."The winters are mild," hewent on,hesitantly. "We don't have much snowhere onthe riversometimes the mer-cury falls to 10 or 11below zero, butnot too oftenthe summers aren't tooterribly hot notmuch above 100degrees . . ."H e wasstruggling to think of onevalid reason for remaining on theYampa, 100 miles from town, and 50

miles from a postofnce."It 's a good place to raise fruit,"he continued. "In all the 30 yearswe've been here, we've never had tospray our trees forinsects ordisease.""Why don' t youjust say,Charlie,that this is ourhome andthat we'vegot everything here wewant!" brokein Evelyn. "Th e soil is rich. We raiseevery sort of fruit that will mature inthis latitudecherries, pears, apples,crabapples, apricots, peaches, plums,grapes. Wehave a biggarden, too,an d weseldom gointo a winter with

less than 500quarts of home-cannedfruits and vegetables inour basement!We raise chickens formeat and eggs;we have a couple of jersey cows tosupply us with milk andbutter; wehave our own cattle for beef, and thereare fish in the river anddeer in thecanyons. We have all thepure waterwe can use; the air is clear and clean,and we don't have to worry aboutfreeways and traffic, and smog and fog,and getting inour neighbors' hair, andhaving them get in o u r s ""Wait aminute!" I broke in,hold-ing up myhand to stop thewoman'seager flow of words. "That's enoughyou've made out your case!"

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77ie pam pas hedge supports a crown of pyramidal plum es of silky white floweringof incredible beauty. Photo taken at the E. W, Adam son residence, Douglas,A rizona, by Marty-Dess.

Decorative Desert Hedges . . .If you want a touch of distinctive beauty for your home, choosea h ed ge that compliments the desert setting. Most of the plants de-scribed in this story and countless others available to gardeners giveboth protection and privacy to your yard in addition to a dramatic andcolorful impression that is typically Southwestern.By JESSIE CALLAN KENNEDY


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hedge of bird-of-paradise, aflame withred and yellow flowers. It was May.This hedge needed no care, and afterthe summer rains the exquisite goldcups again opened to spill out theirred filaments. It acted as an effectivebarrier against dogs and straying bur-ros and even the winds could onlydeposit their cargoes of debris alongits outer side.In the fall, after the bushes stoppedflowering, their fern-like leaves droppedoff and I discovered that the tough andgnarled billious-yellow branches wereliterally holding up a rickety fence.Summer foliage had hidden the brokenwire and rotting wooden posts.When I replaced the fence with anadobe wall, I had to uproot most ofthe hedgerow. "That is the end of mybird-of-paradise," I said. But the fol-lowing spring a line of young shrubsappeared and today I have an inside

hedge. Every spring it spreads shootsof tender green leaves and masses ofexotic flowers against the white wall.Originally from South America thisdesert bird-of-paradise is not to beconfused with the African Strelitzia ofthe same popular name.Its four-inch pods contain seeds aslarge and dark as those of the water-melon. When the pods split and curl,they explode with such force that thereleased seeds bury themselves in theground, where they lie dormant wait-ing for the warm April nights. Theplant requires little water.Among the many shrubs not nativeto the Southwest but considered as"belonging," is the oleander. Thishandsome plant of the East Indiesfound our desert heat to its likingmany years ago.It grows only under cultivation be-cause it must have water. The olean-der also is one of the best double-pur-pose hedges. It not only is protectivelythick and spreading, but reaches aheight of from 15 to 20 feet, more

than adequate for privacy. Large clus-ters of fragrant white, red or pink blos-soms may appear any time of the year.However, the principal flowering sea-son extends from early spring wellthrough the summer. The glossy ever-green leaves make it an attractive hedgeat all times.If enough moisture is present, thisshrub is easily rooted from cuttings,and grows rapidly. Notwithstandingits many good qualities, the oleanderhas one drawback. It is poisonous andchildren should be warned not to nib-ble on its leaves.To many people a hedge is merely aneat neutral background for a gay gar-

den. Indeed, newcomers to the desertoften yearn for the close-croppedhedges of the East and some gardenlovers have tried various importationssuch as the box, yew, arbor vitae andprivet.For those who insist upon a formalgarden, the horticulturists have devel-oped several evergreen hedge - typeplants. They highly recommend forthe Southwest, particularly southernArizona, the euonymous. No matterwhat the weather vagaries, this plantwill stay green all year with watering.It lends itself to clipping and shaping.The satin-shiny leaves grow out fromevery limb to the very bottom of thebush.However, most of us eventually haveturned back with relief to the tried andtested desert favorites.These strikingly representative desertplants capture the imagination and

hold the interest of the winter visitors.When a friend built a home in a newsubdivision, he placed a living fenceof ocotillo around his garden. Thislowly corral-type enclosure at firstshocked his neighbors who were plant-ing and nurturing imported hedges, butsoon they appreciated the pleasingsense of fitness it gave to his westernhome.The ocotillo, when used as a hedge-fence, will stand for many years with-out upkeep. Planted in a row andheld in position by strands of barbed

wire, the wands sprout green leavesafter the rainy seasons and their tipsburst into brilliant red tassels. It takesskill and patience to successfully handlethe long awkward thorny stems whenbuilding these living fences. The south-west states prohibit the cutting or re-moval of ocotillo and cactus from anybut privately owned lands.To strangers the ocotillo might ap-pear to belong to the cactus family,but despite this likeness, paradoxicallyit is more closely related to both theviolet and the tamarix.Pampas grass, eye-catching duringthe fall and early winter, also lends itsunusual qualities to hedge planting.Growing in thick tussocks, its basalleaves are tough and tall, and thickenough to give both privacy and pro-tection.The heavy grass sends up stalks sixto 12 feet high which support crownsof pyramidal plumes of silky whitedown - like flowering of incrediblebeauty. The plumes measure from twoto three feet in height. Pampas reaches

its spectacular full bloom in September.Then, depending upon how much andhow long the fall winds blow, thefeathery panicles, turning from white

to light cream and then tan, remainon the stalks for months.Pampas gets its common name fromthe vast, treeless plains of Argentinaand southern Brazil where it grows inthick rolling seas of silver. It thriveshappily under cultivation in our sandysoil.Of the winter hedges the pyracanthais the most admired. An Eurasian na-tive, it has traveled across the worldto find a new home in the Southwest.Its thorny twigs effectively barricadeany area to be enclosed.The hardy pyracantha grows luxuri-antly in the high desert country wherethe nights are cool. The lower thetemperatures, the more brilliantly col-ored are its berries. The heavy showyclusters of red or orange fruit attractthe eye and warm the heart all winterlong. The short-stalked leaves remainthe year-round and small white flowersappear during April and May.Hedges of pyracantha ask for nospecial care and may even be neglected,as long as they have full sun.Commonly known as the fire thorn,the Greek-named pyracanthas are vari-able in form and color. Those whichgrow upright to a height of 15 feetwith clusters of red berries all alongthe branches, are particularly adapt-able when a high hedge is required.Some, growing generally prostrate andreaching not more than six feet withorange to coral fruit, are among thefinest of ornamental hedges for townuse.Horticultural varieties of unknownparentage have more recently beendeveloped from a careful selection ofseedlings by the growers. Fifteen ofthese have been named. Most can beused successfully as espaliers against awall, as well as hedges. Among thebest sellers is the patented Rosedale,a naturally upright shrub.Pyracantha has one additional ad-vantage over all other desert hedges:it provides the traditional Christmascolor scheme and offers winter-longindoor decorations for the home. Infact, cutting of the pendulous berry-covered branches for such use is allthe pruning this plant needs to retainits arching habit and to keep it frombecoming top-heavy.Fence-like or thick, tall or stunted,thorny or smooth, cultivated or weedy,flowering or evergreen, these six vari-eties are only a very few of the many

hedges which thrive in the Southwest.A choice may be made from an end-less selection as wide as the DesertSouthwest itself.10 D E S E R T M A G A Z I N E


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DESE RT TRA ILS W ITH A N ATURALIST - XX XV IIP l a n t s T h a tT h r i v e I nS a l i n e S o i l s

SarcobatusBy EDMUND C. JAEGER, D.Sc.Curator of PlantsRivers ide Munic ipa l Museum

NE OF THE characteristics ofmost desert areas is the presenceof mo untain - enclosed basinsIn the centers of these basins arery lakes into which water, running

Under the hot sun and frequentinds, the water evaporates leaving aresidue of salts of several kinds includ-ng table salt and salts of potassium,magnesium and potassium as well assulphates. These form hard surfaceincrustations which gleam white in thedesert sun and can be seen from afar.Because of the high alkali and salt con-tent of these dry lake clays no plantscan grow on the central surface of these"clay pans," but around their borderswhere the salt concentrations are less,a number of salt-tolerant plants havedeveloped a special root physiologythat not only makes it possible forthem to grow but to actually flourishthere.

Among the commonest of these,especially on the wet-type dry lakes isthe deep-rooted greasewood (Sarcoba-tus verm iculatus), the "chico" of theSpanish-speaking people. This plantshould not be confused with the wide-spread Larrea or creosote, also knownas greasewood. So prevalent is sarco-batus on the clay dunes in the lowerM A Y , 1 9 5 7

Some deser t plants have soadapted their root and leaf struc-tures to sal ty soi l and l imited watercondit ions that they thrive whereother plants could not last out thed ay . This mon th Dr. Jaeg er tel lsabout these spec ia l ized plantswhich grow a long the borders ofdry lakes and in a lka l i soi l s .

part of one of western Nevada's drylake basins that the place was namedSarcobatus Flats by C. Hart Merriamwho planned the famous Death ValleyExpedition of 1891.This shrub, which is said to be thesecond most salt-tolerant of Americanshrubs, grows to a common height oftwo to four feet and consists of num-erous rigid interlocking spiny branchesadorned with narrow fattish leaveswhich are so full of sodium chlorideand potassium oxalate laden sap thatwhen chewed there is a very unpleasantsalt and acid taste. Ho wev er, cattledo not mind it; it may even add to thepalatableness of the herb age. It is animportant range plant in Nevada andUtah. Horses, goats and sheep browsefreely on it, especially in winter.

Dry greasewood burns with a beau-tiful yellow and greenish hot flame andfor this reason I always make my camplire of it when available.The generic name Sarcobatus means"flesh thicket"; the specific name ver-m iculatus means "in the form ofworms" and refers to the green cater-pillar-like male spikelets which appearin numbers in spring and summer onthe ends of the succulent - leavedbranchlets. The name, greasewood,was given because of the general oilyappearance of the stems and foliage.One of the commonest of the fewshrubs that grow along the AmargosaRiver and the clayey salt marshes ofDeath Valley, and about the bordersof Great Salt Lake is the hardy pickle-weed (Salicornia), also called sam -ph ire. Tn Death Valley it grows ato p

Salicorniathe mixed clay and sand hummocks;in fact, it probably is responsible forthe hum moc ks. The dust and sanddrifts in among the branches and asthe mounds build up the plants growupw ard with it. It is called pickleweedbecause the numerous leafless lightgreen jointed fleshy branches have asomewhat sourish taste. It seems toflourish in soils so salty and alkalinethat it has few or no competitors. Theburro is said to be the only animal thatcan stomach it and then only understarvation conditions.

A most unattractive fleshy-leavedshrub found in most places of highalkali-salt content is the inkweed(Sueda), its blackened stems and manyrusty brown to dirty green leaves giv-ing it a scorched and dead appearance.The sap is full of tanic acid and thisgives it a sourish puck ery taste. Fewbrowsing animals will ever eat it, eventhoug h very hungr y. It is called ink-weed because early settlers made apoor sort of ink from it by boiling itin water with iron nails.Among the plants with peculiarstems the scrubby bush called iodinebush (Allenrolfia) is one of the bigsurprises. The cylindrical elongatejoints appear like juicy green beadsstrung on a cord. The plant is verytolerant of salt and alkali and sinks itslong taproot sufficiently deep to getgood supplies of water from beneaththe salty wet silts of dry lakes of manyparts of our western deserts. The re is

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much Allenrolfia growing in the OwensLake area of the Mojave Desert andalong the borders of Great Salt Lake.Many kinds of saltbushes (Atriplex)are found growing in saline soils. Thelargest and most luxuriant is the bigquail bush (Atriplex lentiform is) thatgrows on theborders of the lower Col-orado River and the mud flats of thelower Coachella and Imperial valleys.I t reaches a height of from three toeight feet and has an even greaterspread. Often it forms intricate andimpenetrable thickets , "so dense andresistant that a person might throw hiswhole weight against it only to behurled back by the elastic rebound."

Several times when hunting for birdnests I have had occasion to learn thatthe thickets made by these big gray-green hemispherical bushes offer goodhiding places for rattlesnakes. Theyprobably like to live there not onlybecause of the summer shade thebushes offer but also because of the

presence there of cottontail rabbits andwood rats which also use the quailbush for hideouts . Both mammals arethe rattlesnake's favorite food.In late spring andsummer these salt-bushes frequently are vibrant with thestridulations of millions of crickets;both during the day and long aftersunset the big apache cicadas (Dicer-oprocta apache) make their frequent

rattling raspish sounds. Above andamongst the bushes you may see flyingby day the large cicada killing wasp(Sphecius convallis) which hunts thenoisy bugs so that it may paralyzethem with its sting and carry them offto provision its nest with fresh foodfor the developing larvae.Saltbush jungles are among the mostfavorite haunts of that lively and frolic-some bird prankster, the roadrunner.Often you see him darting across theroad and into hiding. In the cricketsand cicadas found there he obtains

ample food for most of his needs; a

We Need Deser t Photos . . ,O n e of the s u res t w ays to a d v a n c e y o u r p h o t o g r a p h y h o b b yw i th bo th added p leas u re and cash pr izes is to regular ly enter thebes t of your deser t p ic tures in Deser t Magazine ' s monthly contes t .Any subject will do so long as it is re la ted to the Desert Southwestthe possibilit ies are as unl imited and var ied as the l and itself. Thou-s a n d s of folks whoshare your in teres t in the deser t are e a g e r to s h a r e

your photographic in terpreta t ions of this vast land.Entries for the Maycontest must be sent to the Desert Magazineoffice. Palm, Desert, California, andpostmarked not later than May 18.Winning prints will appear in theJuly issue. Pictures which arrive toolate for onecontest arehe ld over for thenext month. First prize is $10;second prize $5. Fornon-winning pictures accepted forpublication $3each w i l l bepaid .

HERE ARE THE RULES1Prints must beblack and white, 5x7 or larger, onglossy paper.2Each photograph submitted should be fully labeled as to subject, time andplace . Also technical data: camera, shutter spee d, hour of day,etc.3PRINTS WILL BE RETURNED WHEN RETURN POSTAGE IS ENCLOSED.4Entries must be inthe Desert Magazine office bythe 20th ofthe contest month.5Contests areopen to both amateur and professional photographers. DesertMagazine requires first publication rights only of prize winning pictures.6Time and place of photograph are immaterial, except that it must be from thedesert Southwest.7Judges will be sele cted from D esert's editorial staff, andawards will be madeimmediately after the close of thecontest each month.

A d d res s All Entries to Photo EditorIDm &tt 'TMafOfine PALM DESERT, CALIFORNIA

lizard or two doesn't come amiss either.Often the roadrunner 's nest of coarsesticks is built in the bramble ofbranches.Another resident bird quite oftenseen about the big saltbush is the pale-colored Le Conte Thrasher. You willeasily identify it by its near robin sizeand long curved beak. In the pre-dawn hour its clear ringing whistlingsong can be heardthe sweetest mosteasy to remember, it seems to me, ofal l the desert bird songs. Especiallyappealing is the rich song during thebreeding season of late March andApril.

Of the smaller quail bush residentsar e the Abert towhee, phainopepla, themelodious Salton Sea song sparrowan d the lively lead-colored gnatcatcher.In winter a number of transient seed-eating birds frequent the quail bush,among them the Gambel sparrow,des-ert song sparrow, the Say phoebe andthe Nevada spotted towhee.Several times I have crossed DeathValley in late September and haveseen vast numbers of the beautifulTidestromia in full flower or fruit.This low-spreading annual that comesup after the occasional summer rainstakes on beautiful shades of silver-green and rose-purple. It is one ofth e odd but handsome plants of thedesert which although often plentifulin alkaline soils, is little known tothe general public. I place it along-side desert holly in decorative valueand often make winter bouquets of it.The plants long retain their beauty,both of form and color and are especi-ally high on our list of choice holidaydecorations. If you don' t know Tides-tromia by all means get acquaintedwith it. Being an annual and prolificseed-bearer, you need not have com-punctions about gathering it. It isfairly common both on theMojave andColorado deserts.

Of our deserts ' native deciduoustrees the white-spined tornilla or screwbean is best adapted to live in salt andalkali impregnated soils; in fact, inmany places it appears to require thesesoil constituents to grow to best ad-vantage. Notab le thickets of consider-able extent of this peculiar leguminoustree are found in stream borders andmoist flats from Death Valley eastwardto Texas and southward to Baja Cali-fornia and Chihuahua.Our native desert fan and blue palmsoften grow in places where alkali andsalt is very evident, most of the moistground near their bases being whitewith salt encrustations. Water foundin palm oases often is so hard it isundrink able. Salt grass (Distichlis),with creeping scaly rootstalks andleaves set in two distinct ranks, often

12 DESERT MAGAZINE


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grow in such places. Frequen tly(Phichea serricea) and the

Haplopappus acradenia.

Desert holly (Atriplex hym enoly-tra), widely distributed from northernand Utah to the deserts of northernexico, seems to grow best in gypsumsoils. Sometim es it is about the onlyplant that will flourish in such barrenvertical-walled canyons as found in theIndio and Mecca Mudhills of the Col-orado Desert. It sometimes profitsfrom the summer rains which occa-sionally visit these areas. The leavesmay be succulent at a time when mostother plants may be suffering fromlong drouth. Persons desiring to growdesert holly should plant the seeds ingypsum soils brought in from the des-ert.

There are two foreigners amongplants that have escaped and spreadboth rapidly and widely in alkalineA llenrolfia

: : : ' . ' ! ' *:" ' ' y - - ' ' : . . - : / ; ' \ ' ' . ' ' " ' " = - v ; > " ' ' Z ' - . ' "

Greasewood (Sarcobatus) growing in pure stands in the alkaline flats ofthe Escalante Desert of Utah near Enterprise. Photo c ourtesy U. S.Salinity Laboratory, R iverside, California.moist places on our deserts. One isthe prickery Russian thistle (Kali sal-sola), the other the slender-branchedshrub of Mediterranean origin, theflowering deciduous tamarisk (Tam arixgallica), commonly called salt cedar.The latter has small seeds, each bear-ing a tuft of hair on one end to aid intheir distribution by wind currents.They have germinated in the soil ofalmost every desert seep streamlet andmarsh from Death Valley southwardinto the Sonoran deserts of Baja Cali-fornia and mainland Mex ico. Becauseof its handsome pink to purple flowers,its tolerance of poor soils, heat, frostand drouth, it has been widely plantedaround homes on the Mojave Desert.The manna of Mount Sinai, whichconsists of a mucilaginous sugar, wasproduced by a variety of this tamarix.Another tamarix, Tam arix articu-lata, grows as a vigorous tall evergreentree. It is much planted as a wind-break and ornamental in the ColoradoDesert. Although it is a quick growerits wood is very hard and makes valu-able fuel.

Of other cultivated plants date palm,barley, beets, cotton, alfalfa and onionsseem most tolerant of alkaline and sa-line soils. On the Mojave Desert nearVictorville I used to camp on summernights on a certain dry lake. By dayI would delight in racing my car overits smooth hard surface;One day, what was my utter sur-prise to see that it had been plowedup and planted to onions and barley!Water had been developed beneath itsbarren surface (very hard it was, ofcourse) and was used to irrigate the

barley and onions. Although naturehad never grown anything on this drylake, here was produced a crop ofenormously large good quality onionsthat must have surprised even thehopeful planter. The yield was simplyenormous! The barley did almost aswell!

Quail Bush

M A Y , 1 9 5 7 13


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They Harvest Desert Glass ...Lonnie andHei e Spearman arerefugees from the big city livingthe kind of l i f e t h e y h a v e a l w a y sw a n t e d to l ive on their 160 acre

Nevada ranch . Bes ides f i sh ing inthe river which runs through theirproperty, painting, pottery makingand collecting ghost railroad items,th ey t end a unique desert glassgarden wh ere oldfash i oned g l asspieces are taking onbeauti ful huesof blue and purple from the actionof the sun.By JANE ATWATERP h o t o g r a p h s by Adr i an At wa t e r

H E L E andLonnie Spear-man found themselves sur-rounded in Hollywood byclose neighbors, super-markets, drive-in theaters, freeways and airports,they searched for months until theyfound a place which was the answerto their dreams160 acres of sand,sagebrush and sunshine, a ghost townan d a river.Ten years ago they learned bychance that the old township of Hud-son, Nevada, was for sale. They droveout to investigate this west-centralNevada tract straddling the WalkerRiver, and through which the CopperBelt Railroad train chugged daily. Im -

Lonnie and Hele Spearm an. Bell behind them was on the engine of theCopper Belt Railroad train that passed their hom e ea ch day before linewas abandoned in 1948.mediately they fell in love with it.Here Lonnie would be able to fishand Hele to paint and make potterywithout the distractions of city life.

Visitors inspecting desert glass specim ens in Spearm ans' glass garden.Shacks in background house ghost railroad relics.

So taken were they with Hudsonthey spent that first night there. Laterin the evening, one of the worst thun-derstorms in the state's history struckan d the Spearmans spent the darkhours moving sleeping bags about inth e old town's one remaining shack inan effort to keep dry. Next morning,not in the least discouraged, they pur-chased the property and ordered ma-terials for a new roof.Through the years they have com-bined modern conveniences with relicsof early Nevada to create a homesiteperfect for them in every detail. Anautomatic self contained air-cooledelectric plant pumps water from thewell and supplies the house with lights,refrigeration and indoor plumbing.The original building has been re-modeled and extended into a comfort-able home and additional structureshave been purchased and moved tothe property for studios and guesthouses for friends and relatives. Intheir arrangement the ghost town ofHudson seems to live again. The resi-dents of Smith Valley are accustomedto seeing dilapidated old buildingsmoving down Highway 3 to Hudsonto become part of the Spearmans' es-tablishment.

Their's is not a working ranch sofar as stock or agriculture is concerned,14 DESERT MAGAZINE


15/44

....-;- 'ft- i lSi l l iSXS

:i


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M L

77ze Spearm ans' choicest pieces of desert glass being turned by the suninto beautiful blue and purple shades.back of the shop are covered withgay and colorful finished products.Twisted cup handles are Hele's trade-mark, a process which cannot be donecomm ercially. The red clay she usescomes from a hillside on their ranchand the white clay is imported fromCalifornia.

Another little building has beenmade into a shop where she sells an-tiques, Indian basketry, jewelry andimported glass.The surroundings are kept immacu-lately clean and for bits of color, Helehas painted little wood stoves and milkcans standing about the property, pink,turquoise and yellow. Each serves apurpose, such as an end-table or aplace to store bean poles.Hudson flourished briefly as a pointof shipping and commerce when theCopper Belt Railroad was built in

1911 . Supplies for Bodie and Aurorawere brought here by rail and thenhauled the rest of the way by freighters.The train picked up copper ore, agri-cultural products and passengers be-tween Mason and Wabuska where i tconnected with the old Carson-Colo-rado line. Before the advent of thewhite man, an Indian trail crossed theranch, later followed by covered wag-ons of the settlers. W hen one of thesemen, a fellow named Hutson, wasthrown from his horse and killed here,the area was named Hutson Pass inhis hon or. Late r it was corrupted toHudson Pass and finally to Hudson.Two and one-tenth miles east of

Smith on Highway 3 a sign standingbeside a cottonwood pole bearing theword "Hele" points to a dirt roadheading north across the desert, oncethe bed of ancient Lake Lahontan, toHuds on. The Lahon tan shore line isetched on the rugged, barren hillsides.If generous rains are received here inearly winter, wildflowers and floweringshrubs run riot. Squaw tea, grease-wood, hop-sage and Great Basin bluesage wave their blooms proudly andpurple m at and small flowered eucryptalap at the sides of the road. Sego lilies,sand verbena, desert primrose, loco-weed, hoarhound and Indian paintbrush add to the unbelievable colordisplay. Three and two-tenths milesfrom Highway 3 is the gate house tothe Spearman holdings.The Spearmans have a good life ontheir Nevada ranch . Breakfast oftenincludes a fresh German Brown orRainbow trout that Lonnie has caughtin the river. Lunc h on the patio isan informal affair with two SiberianHuskies and a little black dog ofunknown origin waiting hopefully fora handout. There are visitors to beshown about in the afternoon andfriends and neighbors drop in too, andoften stay on for a patio supper servedas the sun sinks behind the hills leav-ing a blaze of color in the sky and onthe river.With their work and their hobbies,their home and their own private des-ert, the Spearmans have realized anambition most of us like to dreamabout.

Helena Ridgway Stone, author ofthis month's "How the Sun and aTortoise Saved Little Denny's Life,"is a grandmother who prefers writingpoetry and verse to prose. Usually,she said, her poetic inspirations cometo her at three o'clock in the morning.Many of these poems have appearedin Desert and other publications.

She was born in Minneapolis, Min-nesota, but moved to Denver, Colo-rado, at an early age. She now residesin Glendale, California.s if; Hi

Roving Reporter Nell Murbargerwon four first, one second and onethird place awards in the 1956 com-petition of the California Associationof Press Women. Ghosts of the GloryTrail, Miss Murbarger's first book,was named best adult non-fiction bookby a California woman writer; theNavy landgrab story in Desert's Octo-ber issue was judged top news storyin a magazine; first award for a featurephoto was won by Miss Murbarger forher June Desert "At Rest" picture ofan old freight wagon; and "Birds ofAnaho Island" in the Natural HistoryMagazine won best magazine featurestory honors . In the daily newspaperfeature story category, she took sec-ond place for an article in the NevadaState Journal. Miss Murbarger's finalaward was third place in the historicalarticle category for her story about theOld West's charcoal industry in theJune Desert Magazine.* * *

Mrs . James L. Kennedy of Douglas,Arizona, a librarian by profession anda writer by avocation, is author of thismonth's "Decorative Desert Hedges."She is a native of Pittsburg, Pennsyl-vania, but now an ardent Westerner.She writes that she has succumbed toArizona's sunsets, mountains, canyons,deserts, vegetationand even the ab-sence of vegetation in some spots.

Mrs. Kennedy and her husband livein an old but reconstructed adobehouse and she is a member of theHuachuca Writers.* * *Ruth Reynolds of Tucson, Arizona,who writes the home and garden pagefo r Desert Magazine each month, isin the hospital temporarily undergoingtreatm ent for a minor ailment. Sheplans to resume her writing for Desertas soon as she is released from thedoctor's care. Desert's staff wishes hera speedy recovery.

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'

Through these low hills across the wash ran the old C ibola-Yum a cattle trail. Thefabulous lost silver ledge of the Trigos, which lay close to this trail and near thenorth end of Clip Mountain, right background, should be som ewhere in the areaof this photograph.

^o4t ScCvet C9t t& e *7*ty&4,.,,By HAROLD O. WEIGHTPhotographs by the authorMap by Norton Allen

WAS NO T with Jose MariaMendivil when he went mine-hunting in Arizona's TrigoMountains in the early 1880s. Hefound his mine, all right, while pros-pecting an unnamed mountain slope30 miles north of Yuma. There hediscovered surface croppings so richthat chunks of silver ore lay like slagthickly scattered down the hillside. Hisstrike the Silver Clip became thegreatest lead-silver producer everworked along the Colorado River. Infour years of glory1883-1887itsflooding torrent of ore was worth morethan a million dollars.That was luck indeedfor some-onebut not for Jose Maria Mendivil.

There is a story around Yuma thathe received $200 in cash for the mil-lion dollar Clip. His grandson, Mike

During the past 75 years, fourmen hav e found an d lost.theelusive ledge of silver thought tobe only a day's journey north ofthe lower Colorado River's mostfamous lead-silver bonanza, theSilver Clip Mine. Four mendes-ert-wise and well aware that suchan outcrop could have meantw e a l t h b e y o n d t h e i r w i l d e s tdreamssaw it once, and neverag ain . This is fitting testimonialto the wildly broken country inwhich this ore lies sleeping throughdesert storm and sunshine.

Mendivil, says that he virtually gaveit away.And as though one such lost for-tune were not enough, oldtimers alongthe river insist that another bonanzawas within Mendivil's reach while hewas in the Trigos. For while the rec-ords bear witness that the Clip was therichest silver ledge mined in the Silver

District, the legends say that it wasnot the richest one existing there.It is gospel in that country thatsomewhere to the north of the oldmine, but within a day's journey of it,another fabulous vein lies hidden ina desolation of ridges and canyons,buttes and washes. A ledge so elusivethat it has been seen and sampled atleast four times in the past 75 yearsbut each time could not be relo-cated.Mendivil had his chance at the hid-den treasure, vein while still at theClip. A Mexican prospector campingthere lost his burro and by determinedand stubborn tracking, eventually over-took the animal. Naturally, he exam-ined every likely outcrop he passed.One was so promising he took samplesand later snowed them to Mendivil.He, too, thought they carried values.But lead-silver ore is deceptive. Howmuch was silver? Only an assay wouldtellMendivil, the prospector suggested,

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Clip Mill Site to Cibolo13.7 Ml.ti

Red Cloud Mine toMartinez Lake-I7MI .Y u m o-5 5 . 7Mi .

could afford to have the assay made.If the samples were good, they wouldgo back together and file on the ground.Could he find it again? Certainly! Be-yond doubt! It was a big ledge. It waswithin a day's journey of the Clip. Itlooked richer than the Clip. (Onlylater were lost mine hunters to wonderif that "day's journey" meant one wayor both. By that time, there was noanswer.)Mendivil accepted the proposition.He had the rock assayed. It was rich.Silver rich. But for some reason therewas a long delay between the agree-ment and the receipt of the assaysheets and during that period, theMexican prospector had followed thecall of mo re distant ridges. No oneknew where he had gone. No one hassince identified him.Jose Maria Mendivil suspected that

without guidance the search for thesilver ledge would be long and verylikely fruitless. In the mean time, busi-ness affairs at the camp of Picacho,across the Colorado in California, de-manded his attention. Mendivil wasone of the most prominent figures inold Picacho. He owned rich gold prop-erties and the townsite was developedon his homestead.It was this pressure, according tograndson Mike Mendivil, that decidedhim to let the Clip go. A mine opera -tor named Hubbard, one of the greatmine developers in Arizona duringthat period, offered to exchange valu-able San Diego waterfront propertiesfor the silver claim. The wo rth of theClip had not been proven, and Men-divil had too many irons in the fire todo anything about it. He was, in fact,too occupied to bother with the ex-

change Hubbard suggested. Often amaker of grand gestures, he told themining man to go ahead and take theClip. Later they might see about thetrade.Hubbard did develop the mine. By1883 he had proven that the ledge,more than 150 feet vertically, was atleast 300 feet long. Its widthallhigh value orewas from 18 to 27feet between hanging wall and footwall. And this rich lead-silver ore wasso easy to work that four men couldtake down 50 tons a day.Down at the Colorado River, sevenmiles away, Hubbard had a 10-stampmill constructed. It was built on apoint of mesa at the mouth of ClipWash, 500 yards from the river. (Clippost office, Anthony G. Hubbard, post-master, was established there in Febru-ary, 1884.) Across the savage coun-try from the mine to the mill, mostlydown the bed of Clip Wash, he workeda freighting road. Soon, every day,ore wagons and great teams crowdedthe twisting miles of rock and sand,and each day the thundering stampscrushed another 25 tons of Clip orethe capacity of the mill's amalgamationpans.A boom through all the Silver Dis-trict followed. The Black Rock, Re dCloud, Engineer, Emma, Silver Plume,Pennant, Princess, Papago and Rem-nant were worked in that decade. Butfrom 1879 through 1889 the wholedistrict recorded a production of only$1,696 ,000 in silver and lead. Andof that sum the Silver Clip alone pro-duced $1,110,000.Hubbard's superintendent at theClip mine was a man named Picken-baugh. According to Ed Rochester,who knew him later, "the peoplearound the country just called himstraight 'Pennybaker' for short." Pen-nybaker was married to an Indianwoman. One day another Indian,probably a relative, told the superin-tendent that not far to the north of thecamp was a big ledge like the Clipthat had never been worked. Thereare always such stories circulating ina mining country, and Pennybakermay have asked the Indian to guidehim to the ledge out of simple curi-osity, just to see what a native wouldconsider good ore. At any rate, hewas not prepared to act upon what hefound. For the ledge was there, and itlooked good. And Pennybaker knewwhat rich silver ore should look likein that country.

But he continued as superintendentof the Clip and did not file on theclaim or attempt to mine it. Ed R och-ester suggests that it was a matter ofpractical ethics. Pennybaker was anemployee of the Clip company, andin those days when a man was hired

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all of his time was consideredto the employer. Theight say that he was, legally,he discovered theaof it, and would be unhappy ifget it. And Pennybaker washis position as mineit better thanof a mining venture of hisor might not pay off.he filed the location of the silverin his mind for a time whenit.With the passing years, the knownin the Clip wasworked out.re had to be rich to make its miningin such a difficult and iso-ed location. How rich theClip's oreby present standardsay be judged from the fact that it11of silver in each ton were lostthemilling processes. Tha t, at least,an engineer's estimate of the silver

of the approximately 30,000of tailings remaining at the millite."I practically made a living samplingfor different outfits," Edochester recalled one day while weere at the Clip mill ruins. "I evename down once, about 1921, fromBlythe on OldMan Kirby's river boat .The river was across on the Californiaside of the bottoms then, and we hada difficult time packing 500 poundsof samples on our backs through themesquite and arrowweed jungle." Theshifting river has carried much of thetailings away, Ed says. The silver re-maining is in amalgam and almost im-possible to separate from the mercury.The last attempt to work the tailingswas made by Joe Shiner in the mid-Top Looking from Clip m ill siteacross the Colorado River to Cali-fornia. Som e of the thousands oftons of red tailings from the richClip ore m illed in the 1880s can beseen, center, spreading down intothe bottom lands. Tailings contain 11

ounces of silver to the ton.Center George Converse, center,traces for hissister, Helen Converse,an d Ed Rochester the route he andEarl Kerr took in 1951 when Earlm ay have rediscovered the lost silverledge of the Trigos.Bottom Clip mine on Clip Moun-tain in the Trigos. Tank and woodenwreckage, center and right, are from ,the 100-ton cyaniding m ill built inthe 1920s, when an attempt wasmade to reopen the property. Partof the open cut, marking the greatvein from which m ore than a m illiondollars was mined in four years inthe '80s, can be seen upper center.

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1920s. Remnants of his adobe andsheet metal cyaniding plant still re-main .When the Clip ore values fell belowthe cost of mining, Hubbard boughtthe Harquahala mine near Salome, andmoved his operations there. After heleft the Clip there was only one realeffort to reopen it 1925 -192 9. A100-ton cyaniding mill was built at themine, and water was pumped to itfrom the Colorado. But the projectdid not pay.Over at the Harquahala, Hubbarddid very well indeed. And Pennybakerremained witla him as superintendentof that mine. Finally, the Harquahala,too, was worked out. By then Penny-baker, grown old, retired and movedout to the coast, somewhere near LosAngeles. The memory of that ledgethe Indian had shown him so manyyears before in Arizona, began toplague him. Probably in the nourish-ing environs of his imagination it hadgrown even richer through the years.He returned to Arizona and went toCibola, by then the nearest inhabitedspot to the Clip mine and 14 miles upriver from Clip mill site.The late Bert Hart was living at hisranch near Cibola then. Bert had pros-pected and mined, and knew the SilverDistrict since childhood . W ith Ha rt,Pennybaker set out for the ledge towhich the Indian had guided him.But he could not find it.

Cloudburst country does change. Buteven more does memory change andfade and play tricks as the years pass.That fact Pennybaker would not ac-cept. He cam e back from the coasttwo or three times more. Each time,certain that he had remembered thetrail correctly at last, he went into a

different territory. Each time, the veinwas not to be found. Finally he wentback to the coast and did not return.In each of these cases, the locationwas given only as "north of the Clip"and not too far from it. The thirdman known to have seen the ledgenarrowed the area in which it can exist.He was Santiago Lopez, the great cat-tleman of that country during the latterpart of the last century. Until recentlythe melted walls of his adobe homecould be traced out near the boat land-ing at the southern end of Cibola Val-ley.When Lopez drove cattle to Yuma,he followed Clip Wash from the riverto a point less than two miles from themine, where a left fork entered. Herethe cattle trail took the side wash, wentthrough a pass in low hills just to thenorth of Clip Mountain and then en-tered a basin at the head of a westbranch of Yuma Wash. Lopez tookthis branch down to main Yuma Wash,

followed it to the Colorado River andwent on down the river to Castle DomeLanding (now Mart inez Lake) .This trail, avoiding rugged moun-tains which reach to the river, wasused by all cattle drivers and by mosthorseback and foot travelers who didnot have some reason to take therocky road past the Black Rock, RedCloud and Clip mines. Of course, notexactly the same path was followedevery time, and cattle drivers undoubt-edly had to leave the trail from timeto time to chase back wandering ani-mals .But somewhere in the pass areanorth of Clip Mountain, or northeastof it, on this trail or near it, SantiagoLopez stumbled upon the great silverledge. He was driving cattle at the

time, and had to get them to Yuma.But even a short examination excitedhim. When he came back, he wouldprospect the ledge out and file hisclaims on it.He returned as quickly as he could.The picture of the ledge was still sharpin his mi nd. Bu t he could not find it.He never did find it, although eachtime he used the old trail, he searchedagain.The last man known for certain tohave seen the fabulous ledge also wasthe first to put a monum ent on it. Hewas Julian Parra, son of FelisarioParra who discovered the rich Mes-quite Diggings in California's Choco-late Mo untain s. A prospector andminer in the wild Colorado Rivercountry during most of his life, he,too, was following the old cattle trailon horseback, making a short cut fromCastle Dom e Landing to Cibola. Un-doubtedly he was prospecting as hewent. He found the silver ledge andrecognized its richness and placed alittle monument upon it to testify tohis discovery, then went about hisbusiness. When he came back, hecould not locate the ledge nor the mon-um ent. He, too, reported its locationwas along the old trail north of ClipMo untain. To the end of his activedays, he made hunts for the lost ledge.Again and again he told his sons:

"It is richer than the Clip."I first heard the story of this mostelusive of lost ledges one spring eve-ning at Picacho, across the river fromthe Silver District. When Ed Roches-ter finished the telling, his partner,Earl Kerr, looked pensive."Put them all together," he said,"and it narrows down to a pretty smallarea. I think I could find it."

Looking north from the Clip Mine to the area of thelost m ine. The old ore-freighting road, now impassablewas built in J883 d irect from the Clip to Clip W ashToday the route up Clip Wash, part sand and part rockcascades, is shown on the U.S. Geological Survey quadonly as a trail. Four-wheel drive is advised

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In 195 1, Earl made his hunt for therrar went with him. Earl told us

"I found a big silver ledge in just"Was it richer than the Clip?" IEarl shrugged. "It looked good. I

I had it assayed. It ran

Ed bro ke in: "It was the kind of"But that was just a grab sample,"l said, "and it 's a big vein. It hasDid he have trouble finding it?Ear l shook his head . "It 's on the

ite. Yo u can see it from half aaway. Going over a small saddle,r abou t 30 feet. I don't think

Was he going to do anything with"Ye s," Earl said. "We didn't pros-t mu ch. It was hot weather an d

let it go until next spring . Th engo in there again. It has the ear-But Earl never went back. He died

Since that time Lucile and I have

hes ter. It is a wild, vivid,

Go very far back from the riverTo me this is one of the most

used. With mo st activities cen-

The Clip mine lies either at the edgeuffer zone . The lost ledge, prob -

Ed Rochester, in one of the glory holes of the Clip m ine, exam ines richlead-silver ore left in a supporting pillar of rock. The huge cottonwoodlogs, left, were cut near the Colorado seven m iles away, h auled to the m ineand put in place nearly 75 years ago.ably, is just in or just out or in thebuffer zone, and since the reservationis there at present, it must be reckonedwith. So, too, must the normal dang ersof the coun try. It is no t the place toprospect during the killing days ofsumm er heat. No r should its explora-tion be attempted except with four-wheel-drive.

George Converse who, with his sis-ter Helen, lives at Picacho, has notattempted to return to the ledge Earlfound. George loves the river-desertcountry, but prospecting is only anoccasional hobby. Recently at hishome, going over the details of thetrip with him and Ed Rochester, Ilearned that Earl actually was the onlyone of the three who saw the ledge.

"We followed the old road from theRed Cloud past the turnoff to theClip," George said. "A mile or twofarther on we camped in the wash bythe road. Next day Earl and I hikedthrough the pass north of Clip Moun-tain, between it and the main moun-tains of the Trigos. The re was a goodtrail, apparently used by animals. Wewent into a basin at the head of thewest branch of Yum a Wash. We pros-pected for an hour or two, then startedback.

"We returned by a fairly low pass,slightly to the north of the place wherewe had gone in. A short narrow can-yon came down from the northeast ona contact between the granite and thevolcanics. Ea rl went up into it aloneand when he came back, in 15 or 20minutes, he said he might have foundthe ledge. He show ed me samples hehad knocked off."It was almost supper time when wegot back to camp. We planned to goback next days, but a storm came upthat night. Thu nder and lightning, andthe rain pou red dow n. The wash wasno place to be in if we were going tohave a flash flood, so we broke campat 2 a.m., drove all the way to theRed Cloud, and spent the rest of thenight in the old mess hall there . Nex tday we decided to go home and returnin better weather.""It 's been more than five years now,"I said. "Do you think you could goback to the canyon where Earl foundthe ledge?""I could," George said.

Ed Rochester, who has wanderedthat confusing country much of hislife, smiled his slow smile.

"You want to bet you can?" heasked.A Y , 1 9 5 7


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ueca

SANCTUARYBy GLADYS L. SAVAGEDenver ColoradoThis desert haciendaBuilt of sun baked mud,Resting on a corner stoneMixed with sweat and blood,Is a happy little home,In spite of what it seems,With buzzards soaring up aboveAnd lizards on the beams.

There is laughter in this houseEvil spirits put to rout,Because my gate is painted blue,To keep the devil out.

By TANYA SOUTHThere is purpose in our sorrowThere is purpose in each tearThat we weep. For thus we borrowFaith to overcome our fear,Strength to lean on Higher Powers,Love to kindle for the rest,Truth to light our darkest hours,An d the Will to do our best.

TEN-GALLON HAT!By LORNA BAKERLos Angeles, California

They called him "the homeliest man intown"And brother, I must confess,There wasn't a plainer guy aroundWhen it came to looks and dress,Until, that night, by a Main Street store,When he stood for the longest whileThen finally ambled through the doorWith a real determined smileHe spoke to a clerk, and thenyessireeHe straightened that shiftless selfAnd pointed rather dramaticallyTo a big white hat on a shelf!Soon he glanced in a mirror, his face aglowAn d his eyes shone blue and cleanWhile he beckoned the clerk and said, reallow,"Now I'll need new bootsand jeans"A few minutes passed, then, smilingly,A stranger stood by my sideAnd proudly he whispered: "This is meBu t my beat-up ghost is inside!"So, brother, whenever you're broken downAnd part of you feels like deadJust give up the ghost and strut throughtownWith a Ten-Gallon Hat on your head!

By VIRGINIA CARLSONSan Diego, CaliforniaQueen of the deserts' fragrant flowersTall Yucca boasts of ivory towersWhere butterflies and vagrant beesCan whisper wind songs to the breeze.Each wanton zephyr seems to knellThe soft sound of proud Yuccas' bellWhile scudding clouds that pass her bySee Yucca holding up the sky.

OMNIPOTENCEBy Lois ELDER RO YPalm Desert, CaliforniaA busy friend came by this mornWhile I was still in bed,Just passing on her way to work."1 brought you these," she simply said.

Within her hands, three rosesPlucked for me to share;Reflecting all the loveliness of dawn.So quiet there . . .Long after she was goneI lay and thought,"How sweet this giftMy friend to me has brought!I'll write a poem!"Bu t my heart would not obey;Above its throbbingI could only think of God and pray.Pink roses in a brown, thick jugTheir perfume wafting heavenward myprayer."God," I whispered, looking out across thesand-dune hillsIs everywhere!"

DESERT BONANZA!By GRACE PARSONS HARMONDesert Hot Springs, CaliforniaThese joys I have:(You city folk take note!)Miles, miles of crystal air;Blue skies where white clouds float;The sudden, brilliant springsWhen desert sings!

Life here is rich:A meadow lark near byPours forth his haunting song.What Diva's art can vieWith melody so true,Age-old! Spring-new!Each day, each hour,The desert offers freeSome treasure, spread to greetThose blest with eyes to see,And ears attuned to hearThe silence clear!

JEWELLED HEART-WOODBy GRACE R. BALLARDSanta Barbara, CaliforniaI hold in my hand a cabochonOnce, bit of a mighty tree,That lived, maybe, a million yearsBefore the life of me.

It holds in eternal fastnessThe warmth of sun and sea;The glow of jewelled heart-wood,Entombed in mystery.What type of life was compatriotWho rested in its shade?In this archive of stone, who knowsThe sword of that accolade?

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B a t C l o s e - U p . . .

P I C T U R E S O fT H E m o n T HB o d i e , C a l i f o r n i a

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LIFE ON THE DESERTH o w t h e S u n a n daT o r t o i s eS a v e d L i t t l e D e n n y ' s L i f e . . .This is the story of a big lonely desert and a small lonely boyand what each brought to the other. And Godiva , the boy's pettortoise , played her part, too, for on her hard-she l l ed back the ladliterally rode through the sun-filled days into a newlife of hea lth andh a p p i n e s s .

By HELENA RIDGWAY STONEY E A R S ago in the daysbefore miracle drugs and

good desert roads, the parentsof a sickly lad of five made a big de-cision: they would leave Los Angelesand their comfortable home and tryto find a place in the desert where hewould have a better chance to regainhis health .The doctors had been kind andsympathetic to Denny, but noneseemed to think there was much thatcould be done for him. He had beengiven tonics and good food but hewould spend most of his time lyingon a couch, looking at books or draw-ing pictures with crayons while otherchildren ran and played in the out-doors.After making up their minds toseek out a warm dry climate for Denny,the parents spent many weekends look-in g for a suitable place. They droveto the desert with army cots tied toth e top of their car and slept outunder the stars. One day they foundthe property they had dreamed of.I t was on a plateau overlooking Lu -cerne Valley east of Victorville. TheGranite Mountains threw their longpurple shadows across the desert to

the very point where Denny was tohave his new home. And there weretrees on this land from which a ham-mock could be strung. Here the littleboy would be able to rest in the sun-shine.Time was becoming increasinglyprecious and Denny's parents turnedtheir attention to getting a house builton their land. They stopped at a gaso-line station to have their car servicedand casually mentioned to the attend-ant that they had to put a house ontheir property immed iately. Guardianangels were at their side, for a youngman overheard the conversation andtold them of a couple who were leav-

in g the desert and had put their cabinup for sale.In a matter of hours the house waspurchased. Then it was hauled to thenew sitea three room home furnishedin wicker, with grass-green fiber rugson the floor and gay curtains on thewindows. And now Denny's new lifebegan.His father came every weekend tostay with his family. His arrival wasa big moment for the child. Everyweek he brought Denny a gift-a newbook or a toybut one Friday hearrived with the finest present Dennyhad ever received. A tortoise! Notthe coin-sized variety children playwith today, but a huge fellow with ashell two feet in diameter.Denny named his new pet "Godiva."When the boy was feeling better thanusual, he would sit on the tortoise'sback and slowly so very slowly -Godiva crept around the house.Denny's childhood was not a typical

o n e , but it became a very happy one.After he made gains in health, hestarted his schooling with a visitingteacher who thought him a wonderfulstudent. In the evenings his motherwould light the oil lamps andhelp himwith his lessons.Seven years passed before Dennyreturned to Los Angeles, and then, ona bright desert-fresh morning, a tanned

lad of 12 stooped down to pat a greathard-shelled reptile as it lay sunningitself in the sand."Good-bye, Godiva," he said. "I'mgoing away for a while, but I'll beback as soon as I can."Denny's parents watched as thestrong straight boy walked to the carwith his suitcase. "H egave the desert

his faith, and it has given him backhis life," Denny's mother said to herhusband with tears of happiness inher eyes.And Denny did return many times,and when he became an adult he wentto live in the little green house inLucerne Valley for a few months outof every year. His children love thedesert home.It seems tortoises live forever, andGodiva still resides on Denny's place,although she doesn't take as manytours around the house as she once

did.

T O W N S I T E FORGLEN DAMT O BE BUILT IN A R I Z O N AThe United States Interior Depart-ment announced its decision to locatethe Glen Canyon Dam townsite inArizona on the southeast side of theColorado River.To be called Page, A rizona, in honorof the late John C. Page, federal rec-lamation commissioner from 1937 to

1 9 4 3 , the town is expected to reacha peak population of 12,00 during con-struction. Its permanent populationprobably will level off at about 2000or 3000, the Department predicted.The site, almost on the rim of theColorado River gorge a half mile fromthe damsite, was ceded to the reclama-tion bureau by the Navajo IndianTribe, which received in return apromise of congressional approval foran equal amount of land in SouthernUtah.The location will become directlyaccessible to Utah with completion ofthe bridge across Glen Canyon, ex-pected in 1959. Phoenix Gazette

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In May Boundary Peak (13,145 feet) in Nevada, som etim es affords snow clim bing.Photo by Niks Werner.

M o u n tain s Ar e Fo r Eve r yo n eThis Is a page for the mountaineering fraternity, and especially for

those young people who would like to share in the exhilerating experi-ence of camping and climbing where the air is clean and the beautyof the natural landscape undisturbed by man's enterprise.By LOUISE TOP WERNER

. , water!Springs in the desert mountains are

the sand getting wet. Yo ues and clears. After that

Such was our experience March 9

ranges of California. Th e top o

These two springs, like soth e waterholes we read about

They furnished water for the earlyCahuilla Indians on their regular food-gathering treks from their winter homesin the desert to their summer homesin the mountains.We found both springs merely ooz-ing mud puddles fouled by wild ani-mals. We paused only briefly at Cac-

tus Spring, happy to note that it hadbeen given back to the wild animals.When we visited it three years ago wefound that some cattleman had pipedall the water into cattle tanks, makingit inaccessible to the smaller wild ani-mals.That night we camped at Agua AltaSpring, about 430 0 feet. The springis hidden among bushes in an arroyonorth of a pinyon-covered flat whereIndian pottery shards still lie scatteredabout. Bees swarmed about the mudpudd le. With a tin cup we dug abasin about a foot deep and wide. Itfilled slowly and took an hour to clear.We filtered the water through finecheesecloth, an d boiled it. We filled

our canteens and the next day noticeda rather pleasant smoked flavor.Rabbit Peak AscentTwenty-six Desert Peakers on a re-cent ascent of Rabbit Peak (also inthe Santa Rosa Mountains), foundthe spring on the north flank of thatmou ntain flowing water. No t onlywas the spring active but in the middleof the night the whole sky becameactive, deluging the knapsack camperswith three hard show ers. Newcom ersto Rabbit Peak are usually warned,"Carry plenty of water; Rabbit Peakis one of the driest climbs we sched-ule." Few of the climbers had carriedshelter, and some of them knapsackedback to the cars for breakfast. Th erest went to the top the next day infine weather.

Sierra Club Schedul edClimb for M a y 18-19Boundary Peak (elevation 13,145feet) and Mount Montgomery (13,-4 6 5 ) , White Mountain Range. Aknapsack trip. Guests are welcome!The White Mountain Range risesalong the central eastern border ofCalifornia, its northern tip slipping overthe line into Neva da. Its elevation is14,242 feet.Boundary Peak is the highest pointin Nevada, while Mount Montgomery,

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about half an airline mile to the southof it, lies in Califo rnia. Th is trip offersthe rare opportunity of crossing theborder into California (at an elevationof about 12,800 feet) without a cus-toms official asking you whether you'recarrying any citrus fruit.The approach is from the Nevadaside, where the White Mountain rangepresents a much more impressive Al-pine facade than it does from theOwens Valley in California, and mostof the climbing will be in Nevada.An ascent of these two peaks wasdescribed in the December, 1954, is-sue of Desert Magazine. Essentiallythe same terrain will be covered withseveral important differences:(1) I t 's probable that in May therewill be enough snow and possibly ice,to mak e an ice axe necessary for safety,especially while traversing the ridgebetween the two peaks. The leadersrequire that those who expect to com-plete the entire climb bring ice axesand wear rubber lug shoes.(2) The last few miles of dirt roadis being torn up for a pipeline; thismay necessitate up to four miles ofback-packing to base camp, which willbe at the spot where the road formerlyended, in Trail Canyon.(3) The water in Trail Canyon hasbeen so badly fouled by wild horses,that each climber is requested to bringenough water for the entire trip (up tothree quarts, depending on how liquidyour food is and how successful youare at ignoring thirs t) .

Ro ute: Highway 395 to Big Pine,California. Ea st over Westgard Passinto Nevada, where road becomes 3A(blacktop) to highway m aintenancestation in Fish Lak e Valley. Tu rn lefton fair dirt road, about 10 miles, oras far as you can go. Watch for SierraClub arrows.The climb (without packs) will startat 5 a.m. Sunday, a 12-mile round-trip gaining about 4500 feet in eleva-tion; class 2, no technical difficultiesbut rubber soles essential.Warm clothing is recommended. Alightweight wool sweater or two wornunder a hooded ski parka holds bodyheat and keeps out wind better thana coat three times as heavy and bulky.Most climbers prefer several thin lay-ers so they can peel off as they warmup . A mummy-type down sleepingbag affords the knapsacker the mostwarmth per foot-pound.Dehydrated foods are not weight-savers to the camper who has to carrywater to cook them in. Cann ed foodsare more popular, as are juicy rawfoods like carrots, celery, cucumbers,apples and oranges.This trip is conducted by the SierraPeakers, many of whom also belongto the Desert Peaks Section. Lea deris Don Clarke, 383 E. Washington St. ,Pasadena 6.Strangers on these trips should makethemselves known to the leader sothey can be introduced and made tofeel at hom e. Say you saw it in DesertMagazine.

R o c kof Death Valley

"Don't i t ever rain here?"asked the tourist, who was wait-ing in the shade of the Infernostore while Death Valley's roust-about mechanic put a patch onone of the tires.Hard Rock Shorty edged hischair over a few inches to getmore directly in the breeze thatcam e from a squeaky fan. Wh enhe was comfortably settled in hisnew location he glanced up atthe newcomer.

"Ye p!" he said. "Three yearsago last August it rained so hardsome o' the lizards began togrow webs on

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