One of these days I'll convert to a true Southern New Mexican, whereby I'll assume that I'll actually do
less mileage than I plan. A year and a few odd-days after moving down here, I still find myself looking at maps like the Colorado version of myself, visualising trails that are smooth, heavily marked, and well-trodden. In the Gila proper where recent flooding, burns, and abandoned trail are the norm, that old mindset isn't dying quickly enough.
The more this landscaped gets ravaged, the wilder it becomes.
A few non-chronological photos and words from a month-old trip into Mineral Creek, Log Canyon, Deloche Creek, and then bailing 1000 feet above Whitewater Creek. Humbled but amazed, I cut the trip short by 15 miles.
For anyone considering a trip up Mineral Creek. Go! This place is something special with hues typical of the Gila, and reminiscent of better-known Utah. The first few miles to Cooney Camp are easy to follow. After that, the trail devolves into what you'd expect inside the Gila. Years of high water have eroded the benches away that once held trail. Plenty of blowdowns to hop over duck under. More than enough old mining debris to keep you guessing. Supposedly there was once incredible trout fishing, but you'd have to keep going way upstream to find any sort of pool that could support tiny Gila trout. I saw nothing...
Although unmarked at its confluence with Mineral Creek, the Log Canyon trail is in incredible shape. Spared from the burn and flooding of last year, this trail is steep and fast and fun. Connecting to Bursum Rd is no problem, and judging by the trail register Bursum, less than 10 people have used it in the past year.
Turning up Deloche Canyon just as it was getting dark was not the best decision. With 32 miles planned in less than 30 hrs, I figured I'd be night hiking if the conditions got rough. Get rough they did. I averaged less than half a mile an hour for 2 hrs under headlamp following the bottom of Deloche's drainage. This canyon flooded in a serious way last summer, and the trail was nowhere to be found. Where it could be found, it dead-ended in 20 foot eroded drop offs to the bottom of the creekbed. I managed to make it to the saddle at the top of the drainage for a bivy under clear skies and big stars.
Sign of the burn were in full effect dropping down into Whitewater Creek, and fully green from regrowth. The regrowth was so thick that the trail has fully disappeared on the saddle, and in patches below. Soon, the going got far too sketchy and I had to turn around. I could only manage so many of those horribly eroded side channels before i found one I was unwilling to do solo. Bailing is always a low point for me, and I carried this one with me for half of the day.
Although I was bummed to have bailed, this trip was a great reminder of what it's like to travel in proper wilderness. Part of the appeal of rugged conditions are the surprises encountered, and I'm happy to have found this in spades amongst an environment in such a ragged state.
