Walking around the Whetstones

This small and dry mountain range north of Sierra Vista gets little recreation traffic. It's mostly used by the locals who live at the southern base of these mountains and the cows and horses that live there as well. There are no designated trails here, which makes exploring all the more adventurous as the few trails here are abandoned mining trails that take the curious toward closed mines in the steep cliffs of these mountains. Legends of burried gold treasures in these hills still linger.

I drove here after stopping on campus yesterday to check on my POS220 course grade. The dogs were patiently waiting for me in the truck. After a short conversation with the instructor (whom I hope to have again next year), I took off with three anxious and excited dogs in tow.

I had been to the Whetstones a few times with the hiking group, and once before with Kevin back in early 2006 exploring the same main trail I did yesterday. It had been so long, though, that finding the main trail from the trailerhome community of Whetstone was problematic. After a few dead ends and DO NOT ENTER PRIVATE PROPERTY, I found the dirt trail that led to the Sands Ranch and from there branched off into the National Forest.

I just had to pass many grazing cattle, a few horses, and three dogs who wanted best to herd them all in.

I drove as far as I felt comfortable with, on FR778 which took me up a narrow canyon laden with abandoned mines. This time I took a short trail to the right (east) as I got to the first intersection and hiked up this steep trail. Recent ATV marks were in the loose sand. A few discarded Bud Light cans were as well.

Since this was a sponteneous hike I didn't pack the appropriate gear, nor packed any water for me save what was in my backpack in the truck. I even wore my heavy leather bomber jacket that weighed a few crucial pounds! For someone who just wanted to "Check out the trail" I went further up the path as I thought I would, looked at two mines, saw a white sedan car in the canyon below, and went back down.

By 2:20pm the blue sky quickly turned to grey as the rain front had moved in. I made it back to my car twenty minutes later, drove back down the rocky three-mile trail to the cattle gate and through town, stopped at the Whetstone Pottey to pick up a few Mexican-made pots as gifts, and returned home. The dogs got at least five miles of hiking and running under their paws, enough milage to hold them over in case heavy rains were to hold them inside on Wednesday.