New Mexico

Whoops, seems we slipped - right out of Arizona and over the border into New Mexico.  It was Chris, the map peruser, who suddenly realized we were within striking distance of a place he has wanted to visit.  I don’t do a bucket list, but like him, the place has been on my “Ooh” list - as in “Ooh, I’d like to do that” or “Ooh, that sounds interesting” or “Ooh, I want to go there.

This particular “Ooh” list item was the Whitewater Canyon catwalk.  As you might expect with such a name, the metal hanging trail winds through a steep narrow canyon above Whitewater Creek.

The contraption originated in 1893 as a pipeline to funnel water from the creek to ore milling operations below the canyon in the town of Graham/Whitewater.  A narrow wooden gangplank was laid atop the pipe to allow workers access to it.  Seems to me it was quite an engineering feat to hang that pipeline from those solid rock walls!

It became a rebuild project by the Civilian Conservation Corps in the 1930s; however, a major flood washed away their work in 2012.  Now the catwalk has been reconstructed once again.  Although it is an easy walk and very cool to be hanging up there on the side of the slot canyon, the steps and uphills were a bit of a challenge for Chris.  He was happy to have done it, and was fine with waiting while I went on the trail that extends past the catwalk.

Whitewater Canyon’s convoluted rock sides are beautiful - punctuated with gnarly majestic sycamores before it opens up to a pleasant picnic area where the creek invites cool wading.

One thing leads to another . . .

There we were in our neighboring state to the east with daylight remaining and ideas being put into our heads.  We read about a ghost town called Mogollon somewhere in the vicinity and just naturally said "Why not?"  

As we began our ascent into the Mogollon Mountains, we were awed by the views with afternoon showers passing through.

It was not long, though, before doubts began to set in.  Our route was via a state highway, we thought, so how bad could it be?  What a surprise to discover that state highway does not necessarily equate to well-maintained, at least in New Mexico, nor does it denote more width than one lane on the hairpin turns.  In fact, it turned out that the narrow winding crumbling pavement byway was downright scary, causing me to wonder just what we had gotten ourselves into (again!).  A 15 mph speed limit with 10 advised on curves (of which the road was mainly comprised) was a surprise for what we thought would be similar to our own 89A over Mingus Mountain - no comparison!

I gave it my best effort by gasping, holding my breath and clutching at any handhold I could find, with my usual pointless admonishments not to get close to the edge.  After all, the road was so narrow that there was no earthly way to stay away from the edge, but say it I must.

Immediately upon seeing the first signs of ghost town/mining evidence, fear was replaced by excitement.  Never let it be said that I am emotionless…

The tiny burg of Mogollon is as picturesque and interesting as you could ever want in a ghost town.  Like our Jerome, it is partially inhabited, but there the similarity ends.  The town as it exists is very small, but there is evidence of abandoned habitations throughout the surrounding slopes.  The channelized Silver Creek flows along main street.  Like so many early boom towns, Mogollon had its share of devastation from fires and floods.

 This so-called general store was a movie set for a 1973 Henry Fonda movie, "My Name is Nobody".

"Into each life some rain must fall", so said Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, and so have we all experienced.  This day, as well as most of our days in the mountains, some rain had fallen, as it did while we were exploring Mogollon, but the reward was a rainbow-hued sky spread out for us when we were atop a peak.

The Little Fanny silver mine, pictured here, was comprised of an astounding four miles of shafts!  It was known to be an exceptionally dusty atmosphere, causing many miners to die of lung disease within a few short years.

It was one of many mines in the district that supported as many as 3,000 residents at one time.

Three sweet triplet deer fawns came out for an evening drink as we departed that region.

Cooney's Tomb . . .

No sooner had we wound our way out of the Mogollon Mountains than we turned off to again follow a sign that indicated something called Cooney's tomb was back in there somewhere, and so it was.

After he was discharged from the U.S. Army cavalry at Fort Bayard in 1875, Sergent James Cooney remained in the area to mine a gold and silver lode he had earlier discovered.  In 1880, Cooney was killed by Victorio's band of Chiracahua Apaches after he had ridden to the town of Alma to warn settlers of an imminent attack.  Also killed in the ambush was a man by the name of Buhlman.  Some accounts relate that a Jack Chick was killed, too, and that he and Buhlman were buried near Cooney, although Chick is not named in newspaper stories about the massacre.  Understandably, communication was spotty and erratic, which may have lead to his name being omitted.

James' brother, Captain Michael Cooney, and others blasted and drilled an opening into a huge boulder to create a sepulcher where James Cooney was entombed.  Evidently, two of Captain Cooney's children are entombed there, also.

Other graves were established around Cooney's tomb.  Four of those in front of it were washed away in a flood along with their marble stones.  Six other marked graves are still there; at least one of them is a child: nine-year-old Elza May, whose father was interred by her after his death in 2011.

Michael Cooney continued to work his brother's claim.  He died while searching for a lost gold mine in the Mogollon Mountains.  The location of the brothers' mine became a settlement called Cooney.  

At the end of the road where the tomb is located, there is a hiking trail that accesses the site of Cooney.  That trail is on my "Ooh!" list.  I also want to return to that area for a hike that overlooks Whitewater Canyon, and to follow the road that goes through Mogollon.  We discovered that there are at least two more towns out that way.  I came to be intrigued by the Mogollon Mountains right away - what a beautiful range to explore!

The bird list for the trip grew a bit while we were in those mountains and canyons; we added lesser goldfinch, summer tanager, spotted towhee, Woodhouse's scrub-jay, Gambel's quail and turkey vulture.