Splashing through Haigler Creek
was a tiresome thrill
On we climbed, higher and higher
into the unknown forest
Curves spelled danger at every turn
It didn't take long for that DANGER to head straight for us.
A car, driven by a crazy-eyed man, forced us almost off the cliff.
"Hot Thing" lost an eye from a flying rock from the monstrous machine that claimed more of the road than he deserved.
Wide, open green plains spread before us with the cedar dotting the spacious hilltops.
The most beautiful garden I'd ever seen in my life amazed me in a valley owned by a rancher, who made it clear he didn't want any TRESPASSERS! My eyes and memory did the trespassing on this beautiful garden. I can still see colorful rows of very vegetable and fruit imaginable. Even the scarecrows were a work of art!
Soon we were on a one-laned canyon road, hugging the rugged mountian on one side and the treacherous cliffs on the other.
Gigantic century plants, in an array of bronzes, coppers, golds and rusts rose proudly out of the canyon walls. Oh, how I wish flower shops could imitate them for me to enjoy in my own living room!
Majestic works of nature!
We again found the place that made "Hot Thing" fly over a giant mudhole during another expedition. I remember Lyn watching from the sidelines. She refused to be in the truck with Lee and me. I guess she'll never experience the absolute thrill of flying!
Yellow daisies brought my attention to trees that had been cut on a sheer cliff. How on earth had the chainsaws teeth reached that high?
Soon I spotted some downed oak. I coaxed my unwilling ladies to fetch a few logs for our fire on Coyote Hill.
We saw an occasional chipmunk or squirrel, but other than that, it was a dry run for animal pictures.
Coming off the canyon road, we never met another soul. We criscrossed into Gordon Canyon, a place where I once feared that a truck would trap Lyn and me in a no-turnback situation late at night. It was the time we were lost because of the fear we experienced on her birthday two years ago. It's a family tradition to go to Young, Arizona on my daughter, Lyn's birthday. "Hot Thing" is the name of our '88 Chevy 4 x 4. I name everything...our campers, our boats, and especially our vehicles. I even name the campsites that we love the most. "Coyote Hill" was named after two coyotes leaped across our path on the way to the campsite. That's how we first discovered Haigler Creek, one dark, mysterious night in June. BY BERT C. Reynolds*
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Poems by BR
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