Sunday, January 26, 2020

Camping and hiking near the Seven Springs Recreation Area




Using our voluminous library of maps, Vicky had found several possible camping spots in this part of the Tonto National Forest, with areas close to them where the hiking looked good.   We tried several ways to get into those camping spots before we finally realized something was not right.  We went to the Ranger station and learned that the area Vicky located had sustained a burn  (in 2005) and was closed off so it could heal.

Undaunted, we headed to another place Vicky had located—the Seven Springs Recreational Area.  Vicky is really the map queen.

Years ago we had tried to camp in this area, but learned at the Ranger Station then that their campground was closed.  We were discouraged, so left and went to Cave Creek Regional Park.  That was early in our road tripping before we had discovered dispersed camping.   Now we don’t care whether a campground is closed.

Campground?  Campground?  We don't need no steenking campground!

Ironically, we found a place to camp that reminded us of our earlier road trips when we camped exclusively at campgrounds.

We found there was a campground named the CCC Campground.  And, of course, we just had to stay there.  We have been big fans of the CCC since we started exploring the US.  
As a refresher, the CCC is the Civilian Conservation Corps.  Roosevelt started it almost 90 years ago as one way to jump start the economy during the depression.  Young men from all over the country build roads, bridges, campgrounds, dams, and trails. The CCC lasted until WWII when the young men were needed to fight (and die) in that war, and in doing so gave us the lives we, our children, and our grandchildren now have. 

We have seen CCC structures all over the country, a testament to how well they were built.  Much of what they built is still usable.  Made of rocks and back-breaking labor. 

This campground was built for the young men in the CCC to stay.  We read that there was an administrative site somewhere close, but didn’t know where it was.

One sort of odd thing is that years ago when we were told at the Ranger Station that the Forest Service Campground was closed, they didn’t mention this CCC campground that was open that was right next to it.  We would have come here then.  Up the road a bit is the Seven Springs Campground. They didn’t mention that one either.  

Here is our site:





There weren’t numbered sites, which meant it was free.  Our site was different from what we usually look for in that it was enclosed by a embankments instead of being in the open.  It was next to a small brook that provided a nice sound.  We were there for two nights, and no one else stayed in the campground those two nights  We had it all to ourselves.  

It also had this very modern feature, something that we remember from our distant past:  A bathroom:



We said to each other:  "So that's how civilized people do it when they are camping...pit toilets."

We took two hikes from the campground.  One was on something else from our past—a hiking trail!  With a map!  And signs!  We used to hike this way all of the time, until recent years where our hiking has been all off-trail, or on mountain/desert/mining roads.  Consequently we actually ran into other hikers, who took a photo of us:



The hiking trail went along the Little Maggie May Creek (cool name for a stream).  Because of recent rains, we turned back when the trail crossed the stream, as we didn’t think we could cross it without getting wet.



And then, true to form, we decided to leave the trail and see if we could find another way back to our camper.  In doing so, we came up on the administrative site for the CCC, and perhaps the old Ranger Station.  One easy way of knowing that one is in a CCC area is the characteristic walls that the men built.  They look alike all over the country:



We later saw a sign that showed we had been on the Great Western (Arizona) Trail.  We weren’t familiar with this trail, but will learn more about it.


The next day we decided to walk up the main dirt road to see if we could find another site, which we did, and moved.  Here it is.  It is much more like the kind of places we typically camp:


The next day we took a relatively strenuous hike on roads we had identified on our GPS devices and maps.  It was shorter than our typical hike, but had a lot of elevation gain.  We thought we could make a loop hike out of it, and we did.

Part of the hike was on a road that had obviously been closed by the park service many, many years ago.  No tracks of people or vehicles.  In fact, in some places it was difficult to see where the road used to be.  Wonderful.  Beautiful sights of the mountains.  And streams in all of the valleys, with a constant sounds of birds.



This photo shows an example of the old road.  You can hardly see it.


For our final hike we retraced our previous hike in reverse, so we could see the views again but from the other direction. We also saw on the previous hike that there was a road that extended further that we might enjoy.  We did.

What we found at the end of that road was a very old, small home that someone had built an unknown number of years ago--probably 70-80 years ago, maybe more.  We had seen evidence of a corral on this hike, and wondered why it was there when we found it.  Now we believe we know--it was built by the same person or persons who built this home.

Someone had a home there, or a place to live while tending their cattle.  Who?  How long ago?  For how long?  One of the many mysteries lost to time that we continually run into hiking.  We always hope when we run into an old home or structure that, whoever it was, they were happy scratching out an existence in the hard land of the southwest.  It must have been a very challenging life.









Our hikes  We did 1/2 mile of elevation gain in our four hikes (and the first hike, the marked one, had no elevation gain, so the 1/2 mile is actually on three hikes).  That's what desert mountain hiking is all about--up and down and then more up and down.  We love it.



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