January 14
Last night showed the wild side of Arizona. A half hour after I bunked out in the trailer, lightning started flashing in the distant sky, and then rain came in. The rain was the kind that sounded like it was drilling holes in my aluminum roof. Could be there was hale, but I didn’t go outside to check. Now lightning was all over the sky, crashing all around. I wanted to believe the storm would quickly blow over, but it lingered, teasing with brief letups. I worried about the horses shivering, but when the rain tapered off and I went to check them, I could see that with their Washington fur, they were only wet on the surface. After giving them some extra hay I headed to bed.
Tonight I am sitting in the Steak Out Restaurant in Sonoita AZ. Today has been one of the most interesting day’s travel ever. I started from Apache Junction at 8:00 AM and drove south towards Tucson. The first part was broad desert surrounded by mountains at some distance, the Superstition Mountains to the north. The desert is cactus and scrubby brush with a floor of gravel. Further south, but still north of Tucson, I drove through many miles of irrigated fields, irrigated I think from the Gila River. I am not sure what all grows there, but cotton is part of it. Approaching Tucson, I pass that field where large numbers of surplus airliners are mothballed.
My immediate destination was the town of Tubac, south of Tucson. I was on the trail of Raphael Pumpelly, a personal hero. Pumpelly was a prominent geologist from 1860 to the early twentieth century. Notably, he discovered iron range (Mesabi?) on Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. Likely you have driven his iron. Detroit was a car building capitol because of the proximity of Pumpelly’s iron. He was professor of geology at Harvard. He taught the Japanese how to mile coal under the ocean. He did a lot of things and wrote lucidly and well about them in a style that is not dated. His autobiography is “The Reminiscences of Raphael Pumpelly”. If I successfully encourage one lucky person to read his story, I will consider my work done.
Today it is Pumpelly’s first job as an engineer that I am tracking. In 1861 he was hired at I believe the age of 23 as the engineer. He traveled from the Missippi River by stagecoach on what later became the Butterfield route to California, and his account is worth reading for that story alone. The stage rolled 24 hours for however many days, with stops only for horse changes every 10-12 miles. The rough motion prevented sleep except in brief snatches. Pumpelly was an adventurer though. The challenges of stage travel was nothing compared to the hazards from Apache attack. He had been well warned, but accepted the risk.
Pumpelly arrived at Tucson, rested a few days, then got on a stage south to Tubac. This was the route I traveled today, and I tried constantly to see it through Pumpelly’s eyes. By and large, ignoring the occasional Jack-In-The-Box or convenience store, it was easy. Desert is still desert and the mountains still ridge each side. I know he experienced the thrill I did. This is scenery painted with a big brush. It energizes a joy to be alive. Pumpelly, though, would have worried about Apache attack. With the Civil War started, the Army, which had to some degree limited Apache raids, had been pulled to fight the South.
I may not have mentioned the Apaches earlier. My foremost interest in coming to Arizona and New Mexico is to learn about this remarkable culture. For those who do not know, I will tell a little Apache history. This had been their homeland since before the Spanish arrived. The Spanish and Mexicans fought them. In 1840, the Mexicans resolved to exterminate the Apaches, a notion that severely underestimated the resources of the Apache. As Americans arrived, the Mexicans were still the prime Apache enemy. With their traditional hunting and gathering culture disrupted, some of the Apaches changed from hunting to raiding, providing themselves with food, horses and weapons from settlers. Relations with the US deteriorated when the Army deceived Cochise and some of his family into coming for a parley where he was captured, to punish him for a death which he actually was not responsible for. Cochise escaped, and then escalated the conflict by capturing several white men for hostages, to negotiate release of relatives. The Army refused. Cochise killed the hostages, and the Army killed his relatives, but did release his wife and son. Part of Apache culture is the practice of revenge, and the war was on. In time, Cochise was killed, and Geronimo, though not the chief, was the warrior leader. I should note here that some Apache bands accepted government terms and moved to reservations. Even Geronimo and Cochise tried that, but I think you could say it was intolerable to their dignity.
I should note here that the Apaches I am writing about are generally referred to as the Chiracahuas. Even among this group, some chose reservation life, and some actually worked for the Army in tracking Geronimo. One, named Fun, worked for the Army, then returned to fight with Geronimo, presumably advising Geronimo on Army habits and tactics.
The Army pursued these people for more than 25 years, and in the end, Geronimo, when it was clear that continued conflict would leave all of his people dead, surrendered on his own terms. The government then imprisoned Geronimo and his people at a fort in Florida, and then Oklahoma for 27 years. Now, half the band’s descendents still live in Oklahoma and the other half on the Mescalero Apache reservation in New Mexico. They never returned to their traditional lands.
I might add to all of this that I learned the Apaches in New Mexico established the first Indian casino, prior to government approval. They are still a force to be reckoned with!
Meanwhile, I am heading towards Tubac. Pumpelly arrived and took charge of 40 employees at the Heintzelmann Mine in the Cerro Colorado Mountain. Over a time, everyone Pumpelly worked with was dead. Apaches killed some, and in the end, apparently Mexicans killed more, wanting it to appear to be the work of Apaches. Pumpelly stayed a step ahead or behind, and missed death on numerous occasions. One of his associates, named Wrightson, was killed by Apaches. A mountain near Tubac is named for him.
I wanted to find the mine. I found the historical society in Tubac, and soon had several people looking for maps and accounts. Finally, in an old book, we found the mine, renamed Cerro Colorado Mine, and were able to pinpoint the location. By now it was 4:00PM, and much as I would like to have seen the site, I needed a place to overnight the horses, and Tubac was not looking promising. I continued on to Sonoita via Nogales, on the Mexican border. I will return to Tubac, this trip or another.
At Tubac or a little before, the land changes. The altitude is rising, and desert gradually turned to grass. After the ride south to Nogales, I entered the next valley (parallel to the one of Tubac) heading north, with more altitude, and more grass. I am learning about the Apache. Their land was not the desert I imaged. Still tough country, but richer. The hills are closer and the vegetation higher. To see it, you can picture the ease with which the Apache could hide or disappear. The land is complex, so they constantly had the advantage over the Army of knowing the land well.
I am in Sonoita for a horse event. An Arena Driving Trial happens Saturday, and I am entered. This will let me meet some local driving folks and get some advising on where I can drive my horses in this region. I am looking for trails in the heart of Apache country.
My horses are in a pen tonight at the Sonoita Fairgrounds. After dark the temperature was a cool 43. Apache Junction is 1700 feet. Here it is 5000. Mountains insulate us from population. The sky is dark with 10 times as many stars as I usually see.
January 15
Last night was cold enough there was ice on the horse water. Here is another clue about Apache territory. With the high altitude and bright sun, they saw large temperature swings, summer and winter. I am told they were known to sleep on the ground, with no covering down to 37 degrees. The scientific accuracy makes me suspicious, but I get the point.
My belief is that there were no weak Apaches. Life in this place, at that time, did not provide for any sort of weakness. That is my theory, and of course it is mostly based on second or third hand accounts. But now I have see the edge of their lands. It is very exciting.
I know a little more. Many aspects of Apache life were highly proscribed. Their folktales indicate a rather rigid worldview, yet their actions showed flexibility and cunning resourcefulness. Family was (is?) of very great importance to them. Girls were thoroughly trained in the skills to support nomadic homelife. Boys were learning the wide range of skills to fight, raid, endure hardship and become the men they needed to be to fight the Americans and Mexicans when the boys of those cultures were still in kneepants. No wonder the Apaches did so well against greater and vastly better equipped enemies. Plus the Apaches were really fighting for their very existence.
I probably need to renote from time to time that very many Apaches did not make this choice of opposition. Their choices no doubt had merit and they undoubtedly suffered less loss of life. The opposition and fierce independence of the Chiracahuas (and not all of them, and not all of the time) is unique in US history. It is my understanding that the whole nation followed the events of the Apache conflict and knew the leaders as fearsome celebrities. Indeed, years later, President Teddy Roosevelt invited the aged Geronimo to the White House and honored him. Even President Grant, a man perhaps no known for softheartedness, showed some compassion for the Apaches, and dispatched a highly ranked general to visit Cochise and make peace with him instead of pursuing extermination.