We decided to go to Hackberry Spring in the Superstition Wilderness Area. It's along First Water Creek north of Superstition Mountain. I'm rediscovering the area after the Forest Service dropped parking fees in the area. I was too tight to hike in area when it cost me $4 for parking along a dirt road. Their excuse was that they improved the road and installed restrooms. I can assure you that I had no need for nor had I requested a better road or restrooms. I might have paid something for them to make the road a bit worse and remove the restrooms. My avoidance of parking fees has caused me to take some pretty hairy detours sometimes. A couple of years ago I hiked to Hackberry Spring by a really round about route and was worn out by the time I got back.
We got started around 8am and beat most of the crowd. We parked in the horse trailer lot and cut cross country hoping to keep away from other people. It worked for the most part. We had a nice peaceful walk for several hours but we eventually had to cut into the regular path to the spring. The wet weather had allowed grass and plants to sprout and it looked like a landscaped park along the washes. We got scratched up a bit by the Catclaws while bushwacking through the washes but it was worth the solitude and scenery.
Luckily we came out in a nice little narrow canyon leading to First Water Creek. There was water flowing in the creek and it was nice walking along and hearing the moving water. After awhile we started to hear voices and could see a large group coming down the path. We managed to get ahead of them before getting to the spring so that we could quietly check it out for awhile.
After they caught up we took off again and headed up the path toward Garden Valley. Garden Valley is actually a mesa that stays pretty wet and is rumored to have been a seasonal camp for ancient indians (Salado Culture). We cut off and took a shorter way back that went through an old ranch area with corrals and a windmill.
After getting back to the truck we decided to stop and get something to eat. As luck would have it, the Mammoth Saloon at Goldfield was open for business. We drove through a crowd of snowbirds and parked behind the saloon. Cowboy Bob (the bartender) was friendly but his Italian accent made his cowboy personae a bit hard to swallow. He served us two beers in plastic cups and we took him up on his recommendation of chili.
Adios
