Tag Archives: horses

Sheridan, MT

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At a friend’s ranch.

My August 2005 road trip (which still hasn’t made it to this blog), took me all over the northwest. On the way back, I decided to stop in and visit our friend Lynn. Her husband, Ray, had been partners with Mike (my husband) on a Grumman Tiger airplane. At the time, Ray and Lynn lived in town. They decided to move — or maybe Lynn did — and they bought a house on some acreage in Sheridan, MT.

I arrived at Lynn’s doorstep after a very long day in the car. I’d started at McCall, ID and had driven along one scenic road after another. In Idaho, most roads don’t run east to west. They run north to south between mountain ranges. (Or at least that’s how it seemed to me.) So I did a lot of zig-zagging up and down the state of Idaho before crossing the Continental Divide at Chief Joseph Pass.

I’d been told that Ray and Lynn’s house was in Dillon, MT, so that’s where I headed. When I got there and called for directions, I learned that I was still about 30 miles away. I finally found the place in the foothills of the Tobacco Root Mountains, near the Beaverhead National Forest.

Sheridan, MTLynn got me settled in and we had some wine by one of the two creeks that flowed past her house. Then we went for a walk in her alfalfa field. This is the view from the end of the field, looking back toward her house.

I can’t remember how many acres they have there, but I can remember the color: green. There was a lot of water in the area and with the right irrigation equipment, they were able to grow two crops of alfalfa a year. That was more than enough than they needed for their horses (which graze in a separate field). So they hired a guy to cut the alfalfa twice a year. He gets half the crop for payment and they sell the other half to pay their annual property tax bill. Nice.

I spent a wonderful night there, listening to the water flow by outside my window.

Perkinsville

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The ranch at the end of the line.

In February, Mike’s mom came out to Arizona to spend a week with us. She’s in her 80s now and although she’s still pretty mobile, there are limits to the things you can do with her. Among our activities was a ride of the Verde Canyon Railroad.

The railroad is a tourist attraction through-and-through. They ask you to get there an hour early — that’s so you’re stuck in a corner of Clarkdale where the only restaurants and shops are their snack bar and gift shop. Our “first class” tickets entitled us to snacks on board, but we worried that it wouldn’t be enough for the 4-hour ride. So we spent another $30 on burgers, hotdogs, chips, and soda like everyone who was waiting.

But the train ride itself is thoroughly enjoyable, especially if you like to simply relax and watch the scenery go by. The narrow gauge railroad winds along the southwest side of the Verde River, one of the few Arizona rivers that runs year-round. From the train cars — including the outdoor observation cars which are extremely pleasant — you can see a variety of wildlife. We saw bald eagles and glimpsed two different herds of javelina. On a previous trip, I remember seeing deer. There’s a recorded narration, some hokey music, and some extremely knowledgeable “conductors.” Our guy in the open car had brought along photos and the Plants of Arizona book to identify plants. And unlike the folks at the Grand Canyon Railroad, these people aren’t squeezing you for tips throughout the ride.

PerkinsvilleThe ride ends at Perkinsville, where the canyon opens up to a broader valley. There’s a ranch there and the train stops literally in front of the ranch house. The place appeared occupied — there were horses and cattle there — but there wasn’t a person in sight. The conductor guy told us the story. Years and years ago, when the railroad was built, the land at the ranch was needed as a station to take on water and fuel for the steam engines. The railroad had offered the land owners a lump sum or a royalty for the use of the land. The Perkins family had taken the lump sum, giving up their control of the right of way. Today, under new ownership, the tour train had control of the land. The people who live in the house make themselves scarce when the train stops there on every run.

Verde Canyon EngineWhy does the train stop at all? Well, this is the place the engines are moved from the front of the train to the back for the return ride. There’s a siding there and while we’re waiting, enjoying the scenery and feeling kind of bad for the people who have to deal with 130 tourists a day looking into their windows, the engineer takes the two engines and moves them. The task takes about 20 minutes and they sell ice cream sandwiches to us while we wait. Then we’re on our way back to Clarkdale at a slightly faster speed, leaving Perkinsville behind.

Do I recommend the Verde Canyon Railroad? Sure. Why not? Just get a good lunch in Cottonwood or Clarkdale before getting to the station. Don’t pay extra for the first class seating. And spend the entire journey on one of the outdoor cars where you can really see what’s around you.

Howard Mesa View

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What I see when I’m at Howard Mesa.

Howard Mesa ViewThe very first image I created for this site’s rotating headers — in fact, the only image that appeared before I even installed and activated the rotating header feature — is this shot taken from our vacation property at Howard Mesa.

Howard Mesa is about 15 miles north of Williams, AZ. It’s literally a mesa — a flat-topped mountain. The mesa rises about 400 feet above the Colorado Plateau and must have volcanic origins (like the other mesas, mountains, and cindercones in the area) since it’s covered with various types of volcanic rock.

The area was once part of a ranch. The rancher sold out his private property sections to a developer, who cut in roads and surveyed 10-, 36-, and 40-acre lots. They sold the lots to suckers like us. Well, I shouldn’t say we were suckers — the property was all I wanted it to be: remote and peaceful with beautiful views. But a huge number of buyers jumped at the low price tag, hoping to turn a tidy profit in five years. Now about half the lots are back on the market and no one is buying. That could be because there’s no electricity and you have to haul your water in — the water table is supposedly 5,000 to 7,000 feet down.

This photo looks out to the east and the snow-covered San Francisco Peaks, the tallest mountains in Arizona. There’s snow on the peaks for eight to nine months of the year; this photo was taken in the spring of 2005. I think the snow was gone by June that year.

The vegetation you see in the foreground is pinon and juniper pine, along with tall grasses. What you don’t see are the bulldozed trees that the ranchers killed in an attempt to grow more grass for cattle. They did this a long time ago and the land is mostly recovered. But there’s lots of downed trees around, making firewood plentiful and fire hazards during the hot summer months very real.

Our property is only partially developed. We’ve fenced it in so the horses can run free while we’re there. We put in a septic system suitable for a 3-family home. We put a storage shed near the prime building site to provide shelter for us and our building materials. We have drawings for a small two-story home, but we haven’t yet submitted them to the county for approval.

The problem is, although the property is “protected” by CC&Rs (rules that all owners have to abide by), the rules are not preventing certain residents from erecting ugly manufactured buildings, including used double-wide trailers, metal sheds, and shipping containers. Other residents use their property to collect all kinds of junk, which they make no attempt to conceal from the road. This is turning Howard Mesa Ranch into a real eyesore, and limiting property values. Mike and I are hesitant to invest more money on a piece of property that might be one of the few “nice” lots in a sea of trashy homesites. So we’re taking a “wait-and-see” approach to the whole thing.

In the meantime, we’ll continue to “camp” up there during the summer months. It’s much cooler there, at 6700 feet elevation, than it is in Wickenburg.

And I really do enjoy the peace and quiet — while it lasts.