ROAD TRIP WRITE-UP
SW NEW MEXICO, GILA WILDERNESS

1963 VW KOMBI W/1500 BIG BORE 40 HORSE
THREE OCCUPANTS, LOTS OF BEER, WHISKEY, A HARMONICA AND ONE GUITAR

By Greg Mogle, illustrations by Caleb Kraft
July 22 - July 30, 2009

My 12 year old son and I were planning on hitting the road to nowhere in late July. I wanted to get to an area rich in mining history that I had not checked out before. About a week before departure I met, through a mutual friend, a young British chap named James. Upon learning that James had been sitting on his butt in Albuquerque for two weeks I insisted he join Josef and I on our travels.

James is a young musician, good with lyrics and his guitar. Never had James seen anything like what we saw on our week out. James asked, as we were driving on a washboard NM road, the first dirt we saw on the trip, "Is this the worst of the roads we'll see on this trip?" I smiled and chuckled . . .

And I am sad to say I have no pictures of this trip - forgot to load the battery into the camera! Oh well . . .

We headed out of ABQ Wednesday the 22nd of July, loaded down with gear, food, and booze. First stop was the Kelly mining district south of Magdalena, NM. We drove up to one of my favorite mine spots and set up camp. Actually, to get up to this spot is something of a task in a Bus, but we made it up the hill just fine despite the lack of power presented by the old BB40. I'm looking forward to the next phase in this Bus' evolution - more power is certainly in the plans.

Thursday the 23rd was spent sleeping late and hiking. Josef and I showed James some of the cool mining sites, and had plenty exercise in the process. The sunset was awesome as usual, and the good times away from the strings of civilization as choice as ever.

Friday the 24th we packed up and hit the road, bound for the old Winston/Chloride mining district. We drove through Cuchillo, WInston, and Chloride, checking out the old remains and signs of civilization that still exists out there. Winston is particularly interesting, with quite the history and cool old buildings to prove it. My favorite is the old Winston Garage, an adobe with pressed tin "enhancements" - totally cool! Winston is a close-knit community consisting of the miners and ranchers still living there. More on WInston in a bit . . .

We drove on west up Chloride Canyon, which is a moderately challenging dirt road that crosses Chloride Creek almost 100 times before terminating at Lookout Mountain. Of course, at this time of year there is no water flowing in that creek. We passed two trucks going down, both of which driven by someone who wanted to stop and chat. The first fellow looked at us with a dubious eye, and expressed concern that the Bus might not make it up that road. Hee hee. The next guy was a fan of old VWs, and stopped us with a smiling face and many suggestions as to what to check out and where to camp further up the canyon. So off we went and found a nice camping spot just off the road, right at the base of a huge solid rock cliff.

That night, as things wound down, James decided to sleep outside under the stars. "No prob", I told him. I've slept in the open many times with nary an incident. So to bed we went, snug and cozy after a day's adventure, Josef and I in the '63 and James on the ground. About 5 minutes after we laid down James asked me, "Greg, did you make that noise?" I had not heard a thing, told him so and went back to sleep. I woke up about two hours later and found that Sir James was in the Bus, curled up on the front bench.

Let me back up a bit. The state has been re-introducing grey wolves back into the Gila area of NM. Much of this land area is used by ranchers to graze cattle. Needless to say, the ranchers are not too keen on wolves mixing with their cattle. Some of them have erected signs along the main roads stating their opposition to the wolves. To make their point they show images of mutilated and half-eaten calves, elk, etc. These sort of grotesque images are not very confidence inspiring to a young European who is on his first visit to the wild areas of SW NM.

I asked James, who had just been discovered as having returned to the Bus after laying down for a night's sleep under the stars, "I thought you were sleeping outside!". "I got cold", he told me. I didn't say anything at the time, but I knew he was full of fish-n-chips, because he was sleeping in my goose-down bag. Back to sleep for me - it wasn't I who was curled up on the front bench of the Bus!

The morning of Saturday the 25th found me hassling Sir James as to what had convinced him to return to the Bus the night before. And the truth came out - "I heard all kinds of noises and got scared", he admitted. We all had a laugh, for sure! I explained that wolves, bears, and the like are more likely to hide from us humans than to attack for no reason. James slept in the tent from that point on, obviously not convinced!

After packing up camp, we headed back down the canyon, bound for Chloride and Winston. We rolled into Winston and decided to check out all the side streets, just to see what was around. At one end of town we came upon a BBQ stand run by Locals Sharon and Travis, a couple of really nice folks who live and work out around Winston. While consuming some great brisket sandwiches (sorry you veggies - those meaty treats were damn good!), Sharon told us about a nice spring to visit just north of town, and also about the Silver Dollar Bar there in Winston. Sure, we're easy when it comes to cold beer, and a cool old bar to boot; why not?

Let me describe the appearance of these three dusty, smelly Bus travelers. I am pretty basic, sandals, cut-off shorts and a T, and my old Tilley Hat covering my dome. Can't forget the dark glasses - My future's so bright . . . Now to James, the 21 year old Brit musician. He's got shorts hanging down, displaying a fair swath of undergarment, a T, and blonde dreadlocks. Josef simply looks like a younger version of myself.

So into the bar we walk, and silence falls, and eyes come to meet ours with a questioning look. Never mind all that - we had gone in there for cold beer and that was what we were having. Up to the bar James and I went and asked for some cold ones, and things began to ease up. Eric and Robin, owners of the bar, Mike, and a few other locals were curious to learn about the old VW Bus and its inhabitants. Beer and whiskey began to flow, and Eric admitted that when we walked into the bar his first thought was, "WTF?"!

Sir James, as I have mentioned, is quite the young musician, and it was inevitable that the guitar would make an appearance before long. As soon as Eric and Robin heard James's tunes, original compositions I must add, they insisted we hang around and put on a gig. Why not?

So word got out around town that there was something happening down at the Silver Dollar that night, and the locals began to show up. And what a mix they were - Ranchers, people working at the local mine, and some folks who just live out there 'cause they like it. But I must single out Darrel, the local muse. He came over to the bar with his guitar and he and James exchanged songs. Darrel strummed and sang tunes of his own creation, mixed in with classics from Hank William Sr., Woody Guthrie, and others, and James played some more of his originals. The night flowed on . . .

We ended up spending the night over at Sharon and Travis' house. They had come to hear the music and offered us a place to bed down for the night. "Come on over when you're finished and make yourselves at home. The door is unlocked." How refreshing to find such trust in strangers. Life in ABQ is quite the contrast.

Sunday the 26th we got up, had our coffee, and headed out for a watering hole north of Winston that some of the locals told us about. Sure enough we found it, a nice, spring-fed creek feeding into a larger river that flows down to Monticello through some awesome canyons. Right at the spring there is a pool plenty large enough to swim and soak in. It was just what we needed after bouncing around in the dust for a few days.

While we were at the spring several other people came and went - funny how they would come and look, and then leave without really spending any time there. We spent a few hours there ourselves, and would have happily stayed there for the whole day, but other destinations called, so off we went.

First stop was Winston, at Sharon and Travis' BBQ joint, where we ran into some of the crowd from the night before. After telling more stories, and a couple BBQ sandwiches, we loaded up and headed out of Winston, bound for the mining district of Kingston.

We found Kingston to be a sleepy little borough that has become a haven for artists. We drove through town and then headed up into the mountains to see what we could find of the old mines. As we got up the road we discovered the mountains are littered with mine holes! I have never seen a mining district so dense with holes. Though they are fenced off, an overly curious individual could easily find themselves tumbling down a deep, dark hole. Many of the holes go straight down!

We camped up there for the night, ready for a day of hiking and spelunking in the old mines.

Monday the 27th, we packed up camp and loaded up our packs and headed out for a day's explorations. Despite the numerous holes we didn't find one that we could explore - they are all blocked off or inaccessible without climbing gear. What a disappointment, but in hiking I found something I have been looking for for a long time - a complete purple glass bottle in a trash heap; not all was lost.

Down and out of the mountains we went, to explore the town of Kingston. There's an old bank building there, the Percha Bank, that has been converted into something of a museum of the area, and also an old school print shop. The man in charge was happy to tell us about his old printing equipment, and showed us lots of examples of his works. Definitely a cool stop.

And then we hit the road for Faywood Hot Springs for more bone soaking. After driving through some crazy rain that poured in through the air vent over our heads, we found Faywood. I borrowed a book on Hot Springs in the Southwest, and Faywood is listed as "undeveloped" - perfect! Well, that's not what we found. The springs have been bought and fenced in, and it was closed and locked when we arrived.

Disappointed, we headed for Silver City and beyond, up into the Gila to kick off the return leg of our journey. After gassing and beering up we headed up 180, bound for the old town of Mogollon, which was the location of NM's most prolific silver mining. A full quarter of NM's total silver production came out of those mines. I was ready to see the awesome milling site and other buildings that one of my ghost town books shows pictures of - one of NM's best old mining sites to see.

We didn't quite make it to Mogollon that night, but we did climb up a totally awesome road that cuts up the mountains to Mogollon. This road was built in the 1890s by prison labor in order to connect Mogollon and all its mines to the resources and supplies to be had in Silver City. Steep and curvy is an understatement! We found a great camp site off the road and ate and bedded down for the night.

Tuesday the 28th, we made our way into Mogollon. There is still quite a bit of old buildings there, including an old hotel and theater. Of course, everything was closed so we couldn't get a really good look. The town was void of people, something that bugged me because I wanted to talk to a local to figure to learn about the area. The big disappointment we discovered was that just about all of Mogollon's mining past has been wiped away over the past 20 years. There used to be a huge milling site and associated buildings to check out at the old Little Fanney Mine. Today almost nothing is left.

Eventually we did stumble across a local mountain woman, Suzy, who lives with no electricity and no running water. She informed us that another local who needed work at the time, petitioned the US government to tear the site down because of the "danger" it posed. What a bummer to learn that this most impressive example of NM's mining history had been sold out long ago by a local and the good old US Government. What shame!

Off we went, bound for Snow Lake. I wanted to see if we could run into old Harley Paul, a true cowboy I ran into during the trip I made with Kevin, Jared and Chelee in June. And sure enough, as we came into site of the lake there were Harley and another cowhand just trailering their horses after doing some work with the 3000 head of cattle they keep track of up in those mountains. I offered cold beer and Harley said they had to get rid of the Boss first, but that they would join us later up at the camp site.

There was a family camping up there from Midland, TX. I've got family there, and these folks actually know my uncle. Small world, it seems. I did forget to mention that I am the black sheep on that side of the family.

After setting up camp and getting to know some of the others who were hanging around, Harley came rolling up for that cold beer. He also had with him 21 year old Trampas MacWhorter, a young cowboy out of Grants. Trampas is good with a guitar, so he picked up James' and strummed a few for us. What a treat to hang out with these last remnants of true USA flavor and culture.

Wednesday the 29th, we bummed around Snow Lake for a few hours and then headed out for the last camp site of the trip. To round out the trip we camped again in the Kelly mining district south of Magdalena. I feel as if I have only scratched the surface of what this area has to offer. I just love the area and will be going back for many more explorations in the years to come.

The following day, we headed out for the return to ABQ. I loathed our return to the city, but before we knew it, there we were.

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