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Burro Springs


Wind howled and rain pelted the tin roof of our cabin last night; both of us were thirsty after finishing off the fried pickle chips and my head still hurt. When we finally woke, it was quite chilly, the sky was overcast and we decided we might prefer hiking first and then motorcycle riding.

A Falcon trail guide gave some great details on several hikes along Ross Maxwell Scenic Drive. Our original plan was to park at Old Maverick Road and ride the motorcycle down and then back up Ross Maxwell. But we decided to do some hiking instead.

Our first destination was Sam Nail Ranch. This was a short and extremely easy hike. Two windmills were on the property; one clearly non-functional, the other a small Aeromotor  that continues to pump. The one on my farm has a distinctive squeal and it is odd to listen to one churning with little to-do.

Next was the Burro Spring Pour-off. The hike there was not difficult, well-marked, and well worth the effort. It is hard to take adequate photos to show the size. The pour-off has smooth well-polished rhyolite. The breccias was quite impressive—it looks like someone poured huge boulders of concrete and stuck landscape rocks in the side. There were several ‘holes’ in the walls with small stones captured inside. I replaced a few much to Glen’s dismay –he thought that geologists would have a difficult time figuring out why those rocks hopped up into the wall.

Our last hike was to Burro Springs. This was supposed to be a circular trail and easy. However, the trail became quite primitive once we reached Burro Springs; we slid down the slope and hunted for rock cairns to mark our return trip. A dry wash looked to be easy walking and we followed it back to the original trail. I re-read the description of the trail—to find that most people simply returned on the original path. They would have missed the hundreds of resurrection ferns unfolding after the recent rains.

We had lunch at one of the picnic tables at Castolon, Glen off-loaded the bike. Our plan was for me to drive to Panther Junction, mail my remaining post-cards, and then meet him at the top of Old Maverick Road near the entrance to the park. Our judgment of distances and time was rather off, and I met him on the main highway. He loaded up the bike and we headed back to our cabin.

Our cameras had been drying since Wednesday and we had been able to down-load the photos. Unfortunately the lenses look dirty on the inside and we’re thinking they will have to be replaced. It feels odd to be somewhere so beautiful—or anywhere without a camera to take photos.

We decided to eat supper at La Kiva. Our guides from Wednesday were there enjoying Happy Hour and we chatted a bit about our day’s adventures. Fried catfish was the special, the green salad was particularly tasty, and we headed home under the light of a beautiful full moon. Glen decided he needed a photo of it from the motorcycle boots on top of the hill.

Tomorrow we head back home. The time here has been too short—as always and we’re already making plans for our return.

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