After a bad fall that had laid her up for months, Kathy Rumsmoke got back aboard her horse, Kit, near Pearce, Arizona, where she and Garth spent a winter.

As you might recall from last issue, Kathy and I decided to stay at Dick Beck’s place, 12 miles south of Pearce, Arizona, for the winter of 2003/2004. Dick’s place is next to a huge ranch bordered by miles of Bureau of Land Management land. Just west of us rose the Dragoon Mountains. We spent 10 weeks there.

The first few days were so quiet that we soon became aware of any noise at all. Even a small breeze brought faraway sounds. It was a strange feeling after being away from this land for a while. Maybe it was the sound of the truck tires I missed, after all the time we’d spent on the road.

Not to worry. We loved awakening at sunrise to look out over the vastness of the valley that held so much history. Evening sunsets held our view even after they’d gone. As we looked up at the stars, we thought of the ghosts of history that had gazed at the same constellations. 

After a bad fall, Kathy finally decided to get back up on Kit on the first of January, 2004. She was still sore, but we had all the time in the world for her to work back into it. The first time out, we stayed to whatever smooth trails we found. She held up well for those first few miles and days. 

Then we stretched out our riding time to five to six hours and started packing a lunch. When we could, we started bushwhacking. One of our first goals was to locate the area’s springs and cattle tanks. Our very first search took in only six miles, but lots of time. 

I sat there looking at our GPS-generated topo map. The spring is called Walnut Springs. It’s tucked back under a huge outcrop of trees. We’d come across a fenced-in square that took in about a half acre. Climbing the fence, I found the spring’s built-up stone cover, which made me wonder who found the spring first and when.

In our search for a tank, we found an old wooden water trough — not big, and low to the ground for cattle. The spring was supposed to supply the ranch’s drinking water, but there wasn’t much water at all, so we marked the spot on the GPS and wandered home.

The next couple of days we just rode and made maps. What a wonderful way to spend our time. Then Mr. Murphy showed up. Dick Beck had come down from Vegas to check on us and to finally meet us face to face. He brought the cold, and that night the water froze. The large holding tank on the hill behind the ranch stopped. Dick soon had his blowtorch running and defrosted the pipes. Just so we wouldn’t have the problem the next night, we let the water run in the sink, a fine trickle. Little did we know that we were using up what water we had in the tank — and it wasn’t being replaced.

The morning after Dick left, Kathy and I awoke to no water. No big deal. I got out the torch. But then we found we had no water at all. We needed to go back to the springs and find the ranch’s water supply. A ranger in Nogales had told us that Walnut Springs didn’t supply the ranch — there were two other springs on the mountainside that could be in use.

So we set out, armed with the ranger’s map, the GPS, and a need for water. We were on foot this time, as we were going to try to follow the pipe from the tank, which was above ground every so often. After a couple hours of wandering around, I found the gulley and pipe that led us to the spring. 

As I said last time, “You don’t really want to know what we found in the spring.” Actually, it was a dead rabbit. I fished it out and cleaned the pipes. We walked back to the ranch, then drove to town for some bleach. We returned to the spring and buried two gallons of bleach halfway down the laid-up wall. With just a piece of metal roofing and a rock for a cover, it was easy to see how the rabbit got in. I made sure that couldn’t happen again.

Back at the ranch, we saw water coming down the pipe. But later that day, we started smelling bleach, so we drank water from town for a week. The problem cleared up in about two days. 

We now had just one more spring to find and mark on the GPS for Dick.  But with no hurry, we just rode for pleasure.

Next time, we’ll take a look at the Cochise Stronghold area and some very interesting riding. (Take a look at our website for more photos.) Till then, it’s just me, reminding you to stay on top, carry a good camera, and remember the gift of The Trail Rider to a friend.