A Day in Hell

Hell's Canyon Wilderness. What were you thinking?
   We haven't hiked in several weeks because Brent tore a muscle running and last week I dropped a dresser - the one in the previous post- on my foot. After Xrays, I found it was not broke, but is is still black and blue and very sore. But it's spring break and we really wanted to get out and do something.
    I found this area in a trail book and wanted to check it out. It had promising names of the trails and formations like Lucifer's Gate, Big Hellgate, Little Hellgate and Hellgate mountain. It's residents are  Mountain Lions, deer, javelina and burros. I really wanted to see the burro- not so much the mountain lions.
   The directions to this remote canyon reminded me of directions to find friend's houses in East Texas when we lived there. "5.2 miles to a stop sign, turn left. Drive 5.2 miles to a sign marked 'trail' (it was written on a small yard stick sized piece of wood stuck in the dirt) just north of the cattle guard, under a powerline. Park."

 There wasn't really a place to park so Brent made a parking spot in a dry river bed. (That white speck in the picture is our van.) The girls could hardly stand to walk out of the river bed because of all the pretty quartz rocks all around us. So many colors! They love rocks.

 The canyon was beautiful, Arizona never fails to disappoint. We followed burro hoofprints and lion footprints throughout our trek but we didn't see any wild life until we were leaving then we finally saw burro!

 Every time our family hikes, I'm reminded of the children's book "The Jolly Huntsmen" They never see anything to hunt because they are so noisy talking and laughing as they go. That's us.
 We went a little too far and had to book it back so we could get out of Hell's Canyon before the sun set. Didn't sound like a fun place to be at night. By then Brent's leg and my foot were sore. Lucy was complaining that her legs were grumbling and Amy was having a hard time keeping up. The name of the Canyon felt a bit appropriate at that point.  It was one of the growing list of hikes that Brent and I file under, "we'll-have-to-come-back-and-do-this-without-the-kids-sometime."