Travel

Bloody History of the Black Mountains Lurks in SECRET PASS

Nervously, I pull off my backpack, prop it on a boulder, and lie against it. I am enjoying the feel of the warm sand of Secret Pass Wash, under the spring sun and slit of brilliant sky between the narrow, towering, red-mountain walls. I am alone, waiting for photographer Jerry Jacka, who stopped to shoot this rugged magnificence. I close my eyes.

Then the scrub brush across the wash rustles dryly, and the birds stop singing. I sit up quickly, look beyond, behind, and above me. Nothing, but all my senses bristle. I shudder, hoist up my pack, and head back in Jacka's direction.

Maybe I already was spooked when I got to this eerie pass west of Kingman in the Black Mountains. Maybe I set myself up to be haunted by reading too many accounts of lost and starving Spanish missionaries, murderously vengeful Indians, and Union soldiers-turned-miners, crazy to defend their veins of gold. Maybe it's coincidence that so many red boulders spilling down the Black Mountains look like hollow-eyed skulls.

Then again, maybe my skittish instincts are right. It's wandering people like me who should enter Secret Pass with a shudder. If there are ghosts, they haunt Secret Pass, hungry for wandering souls.

If you don't like haunted places, don't try to find this place. But, if seeking out historic routes is your particular turn-on, then get in your fourwheel-drive vehicle and head out, straight into the

SECRET PASS

Heart of the Black Mountains and Arizona's yesterday.

From the late 1500s to the mid1900s, the lure of the new West and Southwest set men to traveling, especially to and from Mexico, California, and New Mexico. To get where they were going during the 1850s and later, they usually had to cross this formidable range.

It's how they cut through the Black Mountains that gives Secret Pass its niche in state history. There were other, bigger, more obvious paths: Sitgreaves Pass, part of old U.S. Route 66; and Union Pass, part of State Route 68. But they were treacherous and rugged as they led up and over the Black Mountains.

Secret Pass was easier on men and animals. Created by a wash less than a mile long, which is seasonally graced with bubbling springs, the pass cut right through the mountain. In an hour, you were through it, with a full view of the cool Colorado River and sweet California. In seven more days of travel, you'd be breathing in the salt-laced breezes of the Pacific.

As it is today, Secret Pass was hidden from view. You couldn't see it unless you were standing directly before it, an odd slit no more than 100 feet at its widest, bound by vertical mountain walls full of caves and hidey-holes.

Jacka and I find the pass in the Sacramento Valley between the Black and Cerbat mountains after spending the previous day in Oatman and Goldroad and the night east of the pass. We arrive in the valley too late at night to attempt the rugged drive in and decide we'll hike the pass the next morning after Jacka photographs the mountains.

At dawn's first light, Jacka, loaded with photography equipment, takes off. I stay near his Suburban, scanning the Black Mountains, and reading about the people who came to this spot before us. In early light, the mountains aren't black as they were at dusk the previous day. Instead, they glisten with shades of violet, green, and gold.

When Jacka returns, we start off on one of the wildest four-wheel journeys I've ever experienced, bouncing along on a track full of deep washes, boulders, and dead and downed trees.

We get past these natural barriers only to come upon the unnatural ones: huge boulders pushed in a line completely across our path, forcing us to take impromptu, on-a-hunch detours. Obviously these barriers are meant to discourage travel. I find out later who was responsible for them.

After more than an hour of jostling and pitching in the Suburban, Jacka cuts the engine. We're here, he announces. This is Secret Pass.

But I don't see any pass. I get out, load my backpack, and hike a few yards around a bend of boulders.

Suddenly, there it is: a winding, sandy wash flanked by red-granite walls, trickling with springs supplied by recent rains, and lush with high-desert greenery.

I head in, thinking immediately of Juan de Oñate, a 17th-century governor of New Mexico. In 1604 he became one of the first white travelers to venture near and possibly through Secret Pass on a search for the South Sea. At this time, Oñate visited with the Mojave Indians, whose history is inextricably tied to the Black Mountains and Secret Pass.

Anxious for him and his 30 soldiers to leave, the Mojave told Oñate about a rich tribe to the west whose men wore huge gold bracelets, lived on the odor of food, and slept standing up. They said there was another wealthy tribe that dwelled completely underwater and yet another whose people had ears so big, half a dozen men could stand under each ear.

Oñate never found any of these tribes. During his search for them, though, many of his soldiers died of disease and hunger.

Then there was Francisco Tomas Hermenogildo Garcés, a Franciscan missionary who stands out as one of the gentlest of Spanish padres sent to convert Southwestern Indians. He traveled the Black Mountains, often alone, depending upon the kindness of Indians for survival.

In 1776, just weeks before the American Declaration of Independence would be signed, Garcés traveled up the Colorado River from what is now Yuma, on his way to win over the Hopi to Christianity. Along the way, he crossed the Black Mountains and stayed with the Mojave. He wrote there were more than 3,000 tribespeople along the Colorado River near the Black Mountains, all of them tall, strong, and fierce.

It is the Mojave and neighboring tribes who helped give Secret Pass its name. The story goes like this: In the mid-1800s, long after the Spaniards abandoned the area near the Black range, a raging fever broke out among men in the area: gold fever. The first to succumb were trappers, who found rich mineral veins and deposits in the mountains. Quickly the trappers

WHEN YOU GO.

Getting there: It's impossible to give exact directions to Secret Pass' eastern and western openings, primarily because the paths change, depending upon natural and man-made barriers. The best bet is to obtain a "topo" map and consult locals in Oatman and Kingman about current access.

Generally, you take Interstate 40 west past Kingman to the Oatman/McConnico exit. From the exit, you take Old Route 66 toward Sitgreaves Pass and Oatman. If you're heading for the eastern opening of Secret Pass, take Schinarump Road west to the base of the Black Mountains, take Kaibab Road south about 2 miles to a large stone outcropping with a natural window on the west side of Kaibab Road. At this point, follow the road that goes west, crisscrossing the wash. (Consult your topo map for the best open access to the pass.) If you're heading for the western opening, go through Sitgreaves Pass on your way to Oatman. West of Goldroad, you'll see Silver Creek Road, which leads you to Bullhead City. Follow Silver Creek to Moss Mine Road. From that point, you must consult a topo to determine the best route. Don't attempt the trip unless you're in a four-wheel-drive vehicle.

Accommodations: There are no established campgrounds in the area.

If you want to stay in town, Kingman offers a variety of moderate motels and hotels, as well as fine-dining and fast-food restaurants. There is only one hotel in Oatman, and it's very rustic. There are several restaurants and bars in the resurrected mining town. Also, Bullhead City, which offers a wide range of restaurants and motels, is west of the Black Mountains, on the Colorado River.

Visitors must be mindful of private property especially mining claims. Also, there are many abandoned mines, so hike with extreme caution. Don't rely on the springs of Secret Pass. They may be dry when you go. Take plenty of water. See travel tips with "Back Road Adventure" on page 54.

changed vocations and became prospectors and miners. Stories about their rich gold and silver lodes spread, bringing hordes of speculators and adventurers into the area.

The more the white men came and took whatever land, water, and ore they pleased, the angrier and more murderous the once-friendly, leg-pulling Mojave became.

When groups of hopefuls would head off into the Black Mountains in search of gold, the Mojave would trail them, and when the time was right, ambush them by crushing them beneath avalanches or showering them with arrows. Then the Mojave would disappear into the mountains, and trackers would give up in disgust trying to follow them.

Finally, their escape route and hiding place was discovered. It was Secret Pass.

Standing before its eastern opening, I know I'd never follow enemies into this place. I'd be a walking target and would never be able to see an attacker. The pass' walls, several hundred feet high, are pocked by caves, and there are cliff banks below the peaks large enough to hide bands of men, let alone one or two bowwielding Mojave.

Venturing quietly through, I keep my eyes on the cliff walls beside and above me. I can see how easily men could be buried under avalanches unleashed by hidden enemies. There was no way nowhere to escape a rush of boulders.

Whites had more to fear in this pass than Indians, however. Those who braved this place were just as likely to be killed by their white brothers, fevered by gold greed, hiding around a bend in the pass, poised to shoot suspected encroachers.

I stop to drink from a spring bubbling up from the sands of the wash and wonder if poor Olive Oatman now wanders among the souls of Secret Pass.

It was during the time of extreme hostility between Indians and miners that Olive's terrible plight came to light, a plight that further deepened the red-white hatred and led to the naming of Oatman, a once-thriving mining town on the western slopes of the Black Mountains.

In 1851 Royse Oatman and his family were camped near Gila Bend, on their way to California. One day they met up with an armed group of Yavapai promising friendship and demanding food. Royse declined, saying he couldn't spare any supplies without endangering his own family. The Indians decided to take what they wanted by force. Royse, his wife, and four of their children were slain. A son was beaten unconscious. Two daughters, Mary Ann and Olive, were taken into captivity.

After a year of beatings and humiliation, the sisters were traded by the Yavapai to the Mojave for horses and beads. The Mojave took the captives to their village near the Black Mountains and marked them as tribal property by tattooing their chins with blue vertical lines.

Mary Ann, the youngest, eventually died of starvation.

Reports that a white woman was being held captive by the Mojave circulated for several years. Then, in 1856, Olive was found in the tribe's village near the Black Mountains and Oatman (then called Vivian). Her release was negotiated and newspapers across the nation published accounts of her ordeal.

When I reach the western end of Secret Pass I see what others, westward bound and often on their last legs, beheld: a turquoise ribbon that is the Colorado River, the rolling Mojave Mountains, and California.

To my right, heading down to what was paradise for centuries of wandering souls, is a craggy wagon trail. My skin gets prickly as I think of the early pioneers from back East and other countries who took that trail, and got their first look at the promised land.

In 1858 the U.S. Army established Fort Mojave along the Colorado River near the Black Mountains to protect the increasing number of settlers and miners. Subsequent skirmishes between Indians and soldiers led to chases into this range where, eventually, they found gold and silver. It was everywhere. Scratch a rock, find a vein. Pan a stream, snare a nugget. The soldiers caught the fever. When the Civil War closed Fort Mojave in 1861, some soldiers stayed on in the area to prospect, often with murderous fervor.

In the early 1900s, mining towns such as Oatman and Goldroad flourished, and fabulous gold and silver lodes were found near Secret Pass. The heyday continued through the 1930s. Then, in 1942, activity ceased altogether by virtue of a U.S. War Board order barring mineral exploration in the area.

All that gold is on my mind as Jacka meets up with me at the western opening.

Leaving him to his photography, I hike back into the pass to return to the Suburban for lunch and come face to face with a lean old man, his face shrouded in a long, scraggly, gray beard. He's wearing a black, dusty cowboy hat and boots, and stands on the boulders, staring straight at me.

Hey, I say, and walk toward him. Smoking a yellowed cigarette, he nods.

SECRET PASS

Just so he doesn't think I'm trespassing on anyone's mining claim, I explain my presence.

He loosens up a little and begins to tell me about the gold he knows still hides in veins that run through this mountain. He's got a couple of claims, he says, pointing vaguely toward the east, and he pans a lot in Secret Pass. He says he's brought out some pretty fair nuggets. He saves 'em up, has 'em appraised, and kinda keeps 'em around. He says people get to actin' like fools when they come to Secret Pass, diggin' where they oughtn't, ignorant of claims. They don't know what kinda trouble they could be stirrin' up.

He asks me if I had any trouble finding Secret Pass like, did I get waylaid by any big boulders across the roads? Yeah, I say, on the verge of complaining about it.

"I did that," he says, smiling. "Don't want it to be too easy to get in here."

It's not. And, if you try it, hang onto your soul.

ALL ABOUT SAGUAROS

The stately saguaro with its majestic arms is the largest cactus in the United States.

This Arizona inhabitant that produces the state flower is the main attraction in this fact-filled book featuring more than 100 full-color photographs. Origins, growth patterns, and significance to Native American cultures are explored in lively text.

The 64-page, softcover edition of All About Saguaros is $8.50, plus shipping and handling. Order through the attached order card, or write or visit Arizona Highways, 2039 W. Lewis Ave., Phoenix, AZ 85009. You can place telephone orders by calling toll-free nationwide 1-800-543-5432. In the Phoenix area, call 258-1000.

SECRET PASS TRAVEL WITH THE FRIENDS OF ARIZONA HIGHWAYS

Discover the wonders of Arizona and learn photography from the best. Whether you are a casual point-and-shoot photographer, a serious amateur, or just someone who wants to experience Arizona in a unique way, the Friends of Arizona Highways auxiliary has a trip for you. Excursions vary from one-day Shutterbug Safaris and twoto six-day Photo Tours, led by our photographers and technical representatives (from Kodak, AGFA, or Tamron), to twoto five-day Scenic Tours of the state's most spectacular locales, guided by premier photographer Ray Manley.

PHOTO TOURS

Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument; March 12-15: Jerry Sieve will lead a trek to Organ Pipe, a pocket of spectacular desert in the southwestern corner of the state where the many-armed organ pipe cactus coexists with desert plants found only there and in some parts of Mexico. A bonus is the possibility of a profusion of spring wildflowers.

Lake Powell; April 21-25: Jerry and Lois Jacka will lead a houseboat trip on the lake, a waterway with more shoreline than the Atlantic Coast from Maine to the southernmost tip of Florida. You'll discover multicolored sandstone cliffs and mysterious side canyons.

Paria Canyon; May 13-17: Jack Dykinga will lead a backpacking trip into the wild and beautiful chasm with soaring walls of sandstone, near the Arizona-Utah border.

SCENIC TOURS WITH RAY MANLEY

Southern Arizona; March 31-April 4: Explore the wonders of southern Arizona, including a Hohokam Indian ruin at Casa Grande, the Biosphere 2 project, Saguaro National Monument, the colorful Lavender Pit mine, Tombstone, and much more.

Havasu Canyon; May 1-3: Instead of hiking or riding a horse for nine miles, helicopter into "the Land of Sky Blue Waters" in just six minutes, then head on foot to a spectacular waterfall against a backdrop of red travertine.

Canyon de Chelly/Monument Valley; May 4-8 and October 26-30: See ancient cliff dwellings with a Navajo guide at Canyon de Chelly, and experience the awesome geologic wonders of Monument Valley.

Colorado River; May 11-17: Raft the mighty river, discover Indian ruins, hike, and relax around the campsite on this experience of a lifetime through the spectacular Grand Canyon. For information and to make reservations, telephone the Friends of Arizona Highways Travel Desk (602) 271-5904.