HIKE OF THE MONTH

hike of the month Joe's Canyon Trail in the Huachucas Recalls the Explorations of Coronado

Some 450 years ago, a group of conquistadores marched north along the nearby San Pedro River. Each carried a heavy load of supplies. They had no convenience markets to supply forgotten jerky. No bottled water.

I am hiking in a good place to contemplate the hardships faced by Francisco Vasquez de Coronado and his men: Joe's Canyon Trail in the Huachuca Mountains' Coronado National Memorial.

Joe's Canyon Trail winds uphill from the memorial's visitors center to the overlook at the top of Coronado Peak. Signs at the parking lot identify typical plants of the area: blackjack oak, Arizona white oak; cholla and rainbow cactuses; manzanita, sotol.

The three-mile (one-way) trail is first cozy and welcoming, shaded by small oaks and edged by bear grass and bunchgrass. But soon the route joins the stream cutting down the hillside, and the path becomes all

WHEN YOU GO

To reach Coronado National Memorial, drive south from Interstate 10 on State Route 92. Approximately 13 miles south of Sierra Vista, a small sign marks Coronado Memorial Highway. The paved road runs five miles to the visitors center and on into Montezuma Canyon. The visitors center features interpretive displays, picnic tables, and rest rooms. Drinking water and rest rooms also are available at the top of Montezuma Canyon.

steep switchbacks, clinging to narrow shelves of rock.

I am compulsively prepared for every eventuality, so my backpack bulges. Who knows when I will need a rain poncho, bandages, a flashlight, tortillas, a pencil, or matches? I amble along thinking about the early Spanish explorers. I cannot imagine packing for as many days as they spent on the trail. I poke a displaced stone in a freshly dug hole and am rewarded by the bad-egg smell of skunk. As I hurry past, I recall that tomato juice is said to get rid of skunk odor. Maybe next time I should add some dehydrated tomatoes to my packjust in case.

Coronado's men braved slipping on rocks, encounters with skunks, and worse. They depended on unreliable maps and faced confrontations with The three-mile Joe's Canyon Trail, rated moderate, climbs from 5,230 feet at the trailhead across from the visitors center to 6,576 feet. The trail rises 1,000 feet in the first mile. Hikers may opt to shuttle a car to the top and hike one way, or walk back on the road for a change of scenery. Use caution driving the rough dirt road. There are steep grades and sharp curves leading up to Coronado Peak. Trails may sometimes be closed by snow in the winter. Check with the Coronado National Memorial, 4101 E. Montezuma Canyon Road, Hereford, AZ 85615; (520) 366-5515.

native peoples they misunderstood and who, in turn, misunderstood them. My walk in the wild, on the other hand, is a temporary detour. As a modern explorer, my car waits in the parking lot. I must admit, following Coronado at a distance of 450 years provides adventure enough for me.

Near the end of the steep portion, a cattle gate blocking the trail changes my focus to more recent history. The gate may have served a purpose at one time, but now it stands alone, surreal, marking an invisible fence line.

The gate to nowhere is one of the mysteries of this trail. The other is its namesake, Joe. Legends say he was a hermit or perhaps a smuggler. The Huachuca Mountains, pockmarked by old mines, loom across Montezuma Canyon. Wonder if one of the mines belonged to a miner named Joe? How strange to be memorialized and yet forgotten.

Soon after I push through the gate, the switchbacks straighten and the path emerges on broad, grassy Smuggler's Ridge. Miles of sparsely inhabited San Rafael Valley and northern Sonora, Mexico, stretch to the west. The green ribbon of the San Pedro riparian area meanders up from Mexico, perhaps looking much as it did when Coronado came this way. I find myself straining to see the glint of sunlight on conquistador armor or hear the clanking of metal swords. But all I see is the land, still waiting to be explored. And all I hear is silence.