When Kathy and I arrived at Dick Beck’s place in Pearce, Arizona, in late December, the weather was cold at night, warming late morning, and cooling again when the sun started down. Not really the best weather to be climbing in the saddle and exploring mountain ridges — or even the foothills. Many mornings, we’d awake to snow-covered foothills, and there was very little rise in altitude from our cabin to the snowline. We’d been eyeing those hills like a wolf watches a lamb, just waiting for the right moment to strike.

Finally, March brought striking weather. The mornings were warm, the days were longer, and we were in good shape to be brave and explore.

Garth Rumsmoke at the entrance of the curious cave found while trail riding in Pearce, Arizona. Photo by Kathy Rumsmoke.

Picking a Path

Starting out one morning, we wondered what might lie behind our "ocean wave," as we’d named the "cresting" ridge behind us. It didn’t seem to go far and ended on the north end in a big curve back up to the top. Picture a deep scratch in a tabletop, with one end coming back up to the surface. Through the little "cut," we could see the land on the right just ran behind the ridge then down until it became a big canyon. To the left, the land rose to a "saddle" running back to the mountain base; it looked almost like the letter H with the bottom filled in.

On the left were huge areas of rocks, roughly the same size, stretching out for quite a distance. Not wanting to ride this rough ground at the start of the day, we opted to go right. We came upon a road that was grown over and full of stone that had rolled down the mountainside. It gave us our easiest going, and soon we saw a watershed or gully at the very bottom, where the water had made quite a cut.

With the gully on our right and steep, rising terrain on our left, we slowly picked our way along this long-forgotten road. Climbing continually, we soon ran out of roadway and came to a wider flat area. Kathy, off to my right, said, "Garth, look at this fencepost over here."

I could see what she was talking about, but a fencepost it was not; it was too round and even. We discovered it was a stovepipe sticking up about three feet out of the ground. We decided to tie up and look around.

‘Quite a Discovery’

We walked back to the pipe, then walked a few feet toward the 40-foot drop into the gully. I looked over the edge; right below me was a ledge. On the ledge, I saw tin cans and signs of a camp. I found a spot where I could get down onto the ledge — and down I went.

As I walked around to the campsite, I made quite a discovery: In the side of the gully was a manmade cave, complete with door frame. A bed was built into the back wall. I stepped inside and found the other end of the pipe. I hollered through 15 feet of earth to Kathy standing above me. She soon joined me on the ledge, and we just stared at what we’d found.

What did we find? This place was so well-hidden that unless you saw the pipe, you never would’ve known it was there, even if you rode along the edge of the gully. And the other side of the bank was almost too steep to walk on, though I did venture onto it to get photos of the ledge.

Lying around inside the cave — or dugout, as we were calling it by now — were tin cans, broken glass, and what was left of a wooden crate. We thought we’d found a miner’s home; as we explored the creek bottom, we saw evidence of pick marks. Someone had started a mine shaft on the bank across from the dugout, but it was only about six feet deep.

Further search showed no major mining. We let our imaginations run wild, wondering just what we’d found.

Great Memories

Back at the horses and many photos later, we decided to work our way back the way we came. At the point where we’d turned right, we saw a very narrow animal path that led off and up to the "saddle" that ran from the hillside to the back of our "wave." We figured another day would be just right for that ride. Instead, we detoured around the foothills to a place north that we’d been to before, hiked in the creek bed, and went home.

We rode only about 8 or 10 miles that day, but we have some great memories. Tying our horses and taking hikes gives us a closer look at an area, and a chance to stretch our old bodies. Those are the times we find the good stuff — snakeskin, bones, old cabin ruins, mines, and lots of interesting rocks to haul home. Bet we’re not alone on that one. Plus arrowheads, geodes, and, now and then, fools’ gold. And always a chance to set and talk about what it may’ve been like at that spot 150 years ago.

Later in our travels, we met a man who gave us some good reasons for the cave and all the rocks lying around like they did. But that has to be another story.

Till next time, carry a good camera, keep your cinches tight, and remember the gift of your favorite horse magazine for your friends. Look for our ad for our DVD in this issue, and let us share our rides with you.