Unexpected joy

As I walked slowly toward the gated road, I felt a rush of emotion, a flood of memories, a sense of meeting an old friend after a long hiatus of sharing. For almost two years that gray metal gate had presented a barrier to greeting that old friend. Now the No Trespassing and Live Shooting Range signs were gone as was the lock. I was a bit tentative as in meeting a first date.

The woods were quiet as they often are around noon. It was a cold, cold morning dropping to 14 degrees in Kingston and was still quite chilly in the narrow canyon of Middle Percha Creek. There were a few tire tracks, signs of others rebonding with the deep, wild canyon. My only companions on the quiet walk, at least those I was aware of, were two Hairy Woodpeckers, a White-breasted Nuthatch, three Steller’s Jays and a very fast chipmunk racing along a rocky ledge.

I found myself quickly saying hello to old landmarks. Just inside the gate, above the 2nd crossing, lies a grove of ancient Alligator Junipers, deep blackberry patches and a wild Red Elderberry tree. I was remembering one hike when we found six recent bear scat piles under those big trees. We haven’t seen bears nor their sign for quite a while, but the memories are fresh.

There was Tumbling Falls where our grandkids had played amongst the cold waters and set the canyon walls to ringing with youthful laughter, peels of glee and joy. Those memories came rushing back as I stood still in the youthful thicket of River Alder and listened to the melodies the creek played.

The old mining tailings piles and an old rock retaining wall at one edge of the creek were reminders of the hustle and bustle that once filled the canyon as miners worked the rock in hopes of fortune. One old mine, if you know where to look, still has an old wooden door at the tunnel entrance.

Other memory reminders were the bare River Alder and Ponderosa Pine snags still standing in the boulder and cobble strewn creek bed, casualties of the Silver Fire floods in August 2013. The first flash flood roared down the normally quiet creek after three inches of rain fell in one storm high on the freshly burned mountain sides. We discovered that you could hear the boulders crashing together as the roiling waters rush downstream some 20 minutes before the wall of water appears. When the waters from that first flashflood hit the wooden bridge on Kingston’s Italian Street and ripped off the guardrails, they were five feet higher than the bridge, 15 feet deep total and stretched 135 feet on either side of the bridge.

Those waters turned the quiet, meandering Middle Percha Creek into what looked like a raw glacial moraine of bare cobbles and boulders 150 feet wide. The trees along the creek banks were buried under four or five feet of river rock and the scarred upstream sides told the story of the massive boulders that had tumbled and slammed into the trees. In places the flood debris is still visible eleven years later as six- and seven-foot-high dams wedged against surviving trees. The waters also reached both sides of the canyon, flowing over Forest Road 40E.

So, there were multiple memories that rose to greet me along that upper portion of the creek – before the big flood and after. My quiet footsteps lead me further up the canyon until I finally reached the now unmarked Ladrone Trailhead parking lot. Along that last stretch were two dense, bright green stands of young Ponderosa saplings maybe six feet tall. Nature usually does come back but often with a different face and story. A little further down the old road is the blowout. The 2013 flood ripped away the road here, all the way back to a rocky knob. After a bit of a scramble down a wash and back up, the old FR40E awaits.

The rest of the shady walk along what was once a very narrow roadway takes you up to the boundary of the Aldo Leopold Wilderness, roughly three miles from the end of pavement in Kingston. It is from this point that the rebuilt Ladrone Trail would start, work that was halted by the locked gate and loss of access. The community is hoping that the US Forest Service will pick up what they had abandoned two years ago and reestablish the trail connecting to the existing Black Range Crest Trail.

With the just ruling from the court, we can once again immerse ourselves in the wilds of Middle Percha Creek. Now a walker can rekindle old memories, discover new ones, absorb the quiet woods between rocky walls, listen to the melodies of a babbling creek, inhale the rich forest soil fragrances and just enjoy the inhabitants who have continued on with their daily lives in the absence of human visitors. All of this lies to the west of our Kingston community, a community which has joyfully welcomed back the upper reaches of Middle Percha Creek and access once more to the Aldo Leopold Wilderness.

I know what I felt, deep within, upon stepping past that gate and venturing once more into our Gila National Forest. Here are the words from a few other woods walkers:

After months and months of walking to the locked gate and peering till the road disappeared, the day came when we could go beyond it. 

An eerie yet joyous feeling to hear the creaking of the gate hinges and the bang of the chain unwinding. A sound, to remind us all to not take our freedom of movement for granted. And as we pushed it open, the dried blackberry canes whipped back into place. 

The large dusty blackberry bushes, tangled and sharp, were loaded with once ripe berries. Now shriveled, they seemed to be a sign of the past neglect and barrier that even the bears look notice of. The December day was crisp and the sky a pale blue. We drew out footsteps deliberately and quietly, trying to soak in what once had been forbidden and to keep the sacred. 

And then a sigh came, to release the tension that had kept us divided from the national forest and wilderness access. We nodded at our old friends, who had patiently awaited our return. With the path before us, our hearts lightened and the urge to yip and holler, dance and shout welled up, but we kept quiet. We observed. We allowed the lightness to gather.  

Maybe next year, the berries will be eaten when ripe and plump. 

Another local:

We are happy that this area is open again and that the justice system worked as it was supposed to (even though it took a long time and was a major test of patience). We are excited that we will now be able to share this area with the younger generations (our kids and grandkids) just as our family has for over 60 years.  This area is key for many that have young children and also for us older folks who are experiencing mobility issues. For many, this may be their only exposure to this unique area, and it just might inspire them to continue to save our natural places for generations to come. 

And one more:

Early in the morning, the day after we received the Judge’s decision, I walked up to the 40E gate. I was astounded — there were no signs, and no lock.  So, I took a deep breath, swung it open and headed west up the canyon.  I was careful to respect the private land, but once I passed through their marked boundary, I found pure joy.   Mine were the first foot-tracks up the newly opened road. For nearly two decades I have been in love with this place.  It was key to our decision to live in Kingston. It holds memories of healing time spent alone, laughing family children, horseback riding, and beloved ones now gone.   I was met with welcoming silence – except for nature’s pleasing cacophony.  Familiars in autumn leaves, fragrance of warmed earth, ancient trees, calling birds, wildlife tracks, secret nooks, and Black Range cliffs above – all felt like old friends not seen for too long. It brought me to tears.  Since I have been an advocate of roadless areas and true wilderness for a lifetime, I had reservations about entering this fight to open the road. In so many ways, closure was best for the canyon.  But it was right.  Road 40E was long established.  And more than that, the locked Bennett gate, with the FS insisting on leaving the road open to them beyond, created a huge private canyon of our public land.  That was unacceptable.  It was worth the fight.

We have learned many unnecessary lessons from this experience. The main point being what it means to work together as a community and what we can accomplish when we do so. I think we learned the importance of listening to each other and respecting what each was experiencing. We also learned that the “wheels of justice” move slowly but that perseverance in a just cause is worth every moment of time spent to right a wrong.

Now that the gate is unlocked and the canyon is open to be enjoyed, we ask all visitors to follow a few rules of community living. Remember, when you walk or drive through the gate, you are passing through private property, and we must respect that. On the west side of the Bennett property are two metal posts. Just a few feet further in is the old Forest Service sign. When you reach this point, you are entering the Gila National Forest.

Some guidelines to follow while on the easement:

• The prescriptive easement, the permanent right-of-way is 20 feet wide, 10 feet either side of the road’s centerline. Please stay on the roadway.
• Please keep your pets on a leash
• Please no woodcutting (this is private property)
• Please keep any trash with you and dispose of properly after you return to Kingston

Remember, this is a cherished place. We are most fortunate to live nearby and to have our canyon back. There are many things we take for granted as each day passes. Perhaps a bit of reflection on how fortunate we are to live here is a worthy action. Let us respect the land, each other and be joyful. I will end by including one last comment from another local resident.

Simply
That the dark cloud has been
lifted from our community