We left Kartschner Caverns State Park and drove to Parker Canyon
Lake in the Sierra Vista Ranger District.
We have had some occasions on our road trip where it feels
like we leave our world and enter an alternative universe. It was one of those days.
We didn’t take the most direct route to Parker Canyon Lake because
we wanted to go to the Sierra Vista Ranger Station and get hiking maps and
information about Lakeview campground.
At the Ranger Station we asked how to get to Parker Canyon
Lake and were told to go through Fort Huachuca.
That sounded cool—an old fort! Maybe
we could get a bumper sticker!
We were told we might need to show our “registration,”
whatever that meant. I thought it meant
our Golden Age Pass for National Parks and Forests.
So we are tooling along, heading for Parker Canyon Lake by
going through old, scenic, historic Fort Huachuca, following Google Maps, and
make a left turn, and all of a sudden are confronted with what appears to be a
border patrol station, of the kind that one runs into a lot in this part of the
country.
And about a million signs. Here are only a few that we could get as we passed them:
So we drive up to the gate, expecting to show our Golden Age
Pass (although it was feeling a bit weird by this point). That’s when I had the following conversation
with a nice man with a gun:
“Can I see your identification?”
Me: “You mean our
driver’s licenses?”
“Do you know you are entering a military base?”
Me: “no.”
“Are you citizens of the United States?”
Me: “yes.”
“What’s your destination?”
Me: “uh....camping?"
“Did you see the sign?
You are supposed to have your identification ready. Next time have it ready.”
Me: “There are a
million signs out there.”
“That’s what your navigator is for.”
Me: “Screw you and the
entire military industrial complex.”
Or, maybe I just sheepishly drove away. I guess he thought we were safe--that no
terrorist could possibly put on the befuddled-snowbird act that we had just put
on for him.
But now we find ourselves on a military base! We don’t want to be on a military base. We want to be camping. And we remember, somehow, in the dark recesses
of our minds, the friendly guy at the Ranger Station saying something about going
out the “west gate,” although that made no sense to us at the time.
By now we realize that our thought that Fort Huachuca was an
old Army Fort for guarding settlers against Apaches was a little stupid. It is, instead, for training people to protect
us against non-existent Weapons of Mass Destruction in Iraq…..and we wanted
out!
This is what we thought it was:
And this is what it is:
But how do you get out?
Although there were lots of signs before you got in, there weren’t any
for how to get out. The floor didn’t light up showing the exit like it does on
our airline flights. We weren’t even
sure which way was west.
So, doing the best we could, we drove as far as possible
from the main exit, figuring the other exit would be on the other side. Vicky said go here, turn here, etc., and finally,
we saw a sign and got to the west gate.
When we got close, we saw this sign.
We have never seen another, and as far as we
can tell it means you are not supposed to drive your vehicle into a brick
wall. Next time I go there I’ll be sure
to tell the nice man with a gun at the gate that I fully intend to obey the
signs and not drive my car into a brick wall.
I think he will be pleased.
And then we were back in the real world.
For a little while.
We saw signs to Parker Canyon Lake and followed them on a
beautiful road. Vicky was a bit
disappointed because it wasn’t as much of a near-death experience on this road
as it has been on some she has found for us, but I enjoyed being able to drive
without having my knuckles turn white.
There was snow along the side of the road, and at one point
on the road. Later we learned it was
from a snow they had before Christmas.
We entered the Coronado National Forest, and were, like we
were in the Chiricahua Mountains, confronted with the following sign:
“Smuggling and illegal immigration may be encountered in
this area?”
As Vicky pointed out, what does this mean we are supposed to
do? Stop it ourselves? (Be like Gomer Pyle in the Andy Griffith show? “Citizens A-Ray-est! Citizens A-Ray-est!”) Get autographs? Buy drugs and start using them now that the
state of Washington has made marijuana legal?
Take pictures?
I find these signs offensive. If there are drug smugglers in this area,
then instead of putting up worthless warning signs, DO SOMETHING!
Here we drive through this incredibly costly military base
today which supposedly protects us against enemies we create ourselves by
starting worthless and expensive wars, and yet we are on our own to protect
ourselves against drug smugglers….with the exception of a sign. Thanks Mr. United States Government.
We found the campground, and got a good spot. It is relatively empty which, according to
the camp host, is unusual and only because there wasn’t much rain this year so
there aren’t as many quail. So the quail
hunters aren’t here. Apparently, usually
the campground is full with them, and their dogs, and their generators. Great. So sorry we missed that party.
I guess at least if they were here there would also be lots
of big guns here too.
We had planned on taking a hike the next day around the
lake. The brochure we got at the Ranger
Station had this to say about the hike:
“A five mile trail leads around the shoreline never getting
more than a few steps from the water.
The Parker Lakeshore Trail offers excellent vantage points from which to
enjoy the ducks and other waterfowl that are invariably bobbling on the lake’s
clear waters. Some of these points even
have benches and interpretive signs.
Bald eagles and osprey are regularly sighted in this area, as are spring
warblers and hummingbirds in season. On
the terrestrial side, Coues white-tail deer can frequently be seen browsing
among the oaks and grasses that surround the lake and in the two campgrounds
near its shores. Coatimundi, javelin,
and roadrunners, three animals that are about as southwestern as you can get,
make occasional appearances as well.”
Sounds lovely, doesn’t it?
We asked the host about hiking in the area, and he gave us
the information. He also mentioned
taking a weapon but wisely didn’t advise using it—advising instead to ignore
anybody we saw. And explained about how
drug “mules” weren’t like the people running the cartels, but were more like
ordinary people. He also said that a gun was useless because
anybody who was dangerous had bigger guns than even the border patrol. I guess they have close ground support.
Oh, and on our way here we saw, over the Huachuca Mountains,
a blimp, of all things. Really looked
out of place in the middle of the mountains.
The camp host informed us that it is not advertising a pizza
joint or a car dealership, but instead is a border patrol blimp that has
cameras that are so precise that one time he was sitting in a restaurant and a
guy, out of the blue, identified him as the camp host just from the photos from
the blimp. Now, I ask you, how are we to
pee in the wilderness with something like that watching us?
According to him, he was told that about 2000 people PER
MONTH are caught in the district. I’m
not sure what district he meant, though.
But that’s a lot of people even if the district is the state of
Arizona.
Happy hiking, Dan and Vicky!
Maybe you’ll see Bambi today!
It’s the first camp host we have ever had who explained
proper etiquette for running into drug smugglers on a hike. There are pamphlets for bears and mountain
lions at the Ranger Stations, but not for drug and people smugglers. (The strategy is similar in some ways, but
different in others, in case you are interested. For example, you are not to raise your arms
and backpacks to appear larger to drug smugglers).
The guy is from the area and has hosted at campgrounds in
this area for years. He seemed legit,
and certainly nothing he said was out of bounds considering the rows of border
patrol cars we had seen at a check station about 20 miles from here, the signs,
and the blimp. So we appreciated his
input. And we listened, intently. He also had lots of interesting information
about the lake and the area.
But, oddly and even more surrealistically, the campground is
exceptionally nice, and, contrary to what we have seen in so many other places,
has recently been renovated--new bear-proof trash cans, new restrooms, and new
roads There are dozens of bear proof
trash cans in this one campground, but not a single one in the Gila National
Monument or the many campgrounds in the Gila National Forest surrounding
it. 'Splain that, Lucy.
And miracle of miracles for a National Forest or National
Park, RECYCLING! The first we have seen
in any National Forest campground or Ranger Station. The camp host said that was his idea, so
kudos to him for that too. Two big
thumbs up, once again for the Coronado National Forest.
Tomorrow we go out hiking, after recycling our aluminum cans
of course, to take a sweet hike in nature around a lake in the United States, needing
to arm ourselves even though we are only 15 miles from a military base where,
instead of protecting us against real threats, I get a lecture because we
missed reading one of the million signs and I didn’t have my driver’s license
ready.
Next day. The Hike:
We talked with the camp host again to check specifically on
the hike we wanted to take, and he “guaranteed” it would be safe.
So off we went, and had a nice time. About 5.3 miles without much elevation
gain. We frequently went through snow,
saw lots of water fowl, and no other hikers.
Here we are where we caught the trail. A border patrol vehicle to remind us, once
again, that we are only 8 miles from the border, and that the world can be
crazy enough that decent people have to try to gain entry to our wonderful
country because they have few options for a good life if they do not, and to do
this have to deal with people who probably aren’t decent and so we have to
also. Is there an answer? I admire them, actually, and also respect the
job the Border Patrol is doing. Complete
contradiction, I know, but that’s the reason it is craziness.
But I draw the line at the drug smugglers. That’s who we are avoiding, and who I resent
having to avoid parts of our country I want to visit and explore because
of. Drugs are evil. The State of Washington recently passed a law
legalizing marijuana, and I voted against it.
I have only seen death and human destruction from drugs, up close and
personal in my work, and the line has to be drawn somewhere I think. I know reasonable people feel otherwise. Another one of those places where an answer
probably doesn’t really exist, and we try to force reality to fit our
comfortable feeling that an answer does exist.
But, for today, with the host’s assurance, with the presence
of a Border Patrol car (and probably one or two Border Patrol agents somewhere
on the trail), and with how public and visible a lake trail is, we felt safe. And had a terrific hike.
I am very sad that you didn't know this was a military installation! *shakes head*
ReplyDeleteFun to see those great pictures! I looked you up because I am avoiding writing a journal article and thought of you. I am not sure why those two went together! LOL But you look like you are having a wonderful time! Good for you.
And did you get my message that I am now Dr. Heuvelman-Hutchinson? Don't ever forget it! Message me and tell me congratulations. lorenehutchinson @ gmail.com :)
Take care Dan. I am knee deep in writing an article about developing sense of community among distance education students. You'd be so proud.
I enjoyed reading your entry, however I'm inclined to tell you that the one issue you take umbrage at - legalizing marijuana - is one of the best things we can do to combat the cross-border drug trade. Having more border patrol/rangers won't solve the problem; there is after all, a lot of border. I'm afraid many of us Arizonans stay clear from the border parks due to the risks. I dare say you're quite courageous.
ReplyDeleteSafe travels!
Thank you for your comment. It's nice when conversations are civil and positions are presented in the way you have. I think you make a valid point.
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