Page 10 - Volume 3 - Walks In The Black Range

Early in the morning we had seen a bull elk crossing the FR 150 on our drive over. In the canyon of Taylor Creek in the heat of the day, there were only jays, juncos and woodpeckers to liven up the scene. On the ground however was evidence that this is a lively place at other times. Tracks and scat of elk, deer, bear, plus fox and coyote were all visible.
This place is most definitely worth the trouble it took to get to it. If you are not inclined toward the trail-less scramble we used to get to the trail in the creek bottom, you can always ask the property owners for permission to pass through, the worst that will happen is they will say no, or if you like to ride horses, staying with them for few nights is an option too.
Taylor Creek can be accessed more easily much further upstream from FR 226, but from that starting point it would be too long for a day hike to reach the deepest and prettiest part of the canyon (and the permanent part of the stream). The un-maintained FR 696 parallels (sort of) the canyon along the mesa on the north side. Accessing the creek bottom from some point along this road is feasible, but would surely be an adventure similar to the one we had getting there.
Additional photos from this walk are shown on the next page.
Farther on from there, the water disappeared altogether, replaced by bleached cobbles. The riparian species were no more as well, and we found ourselves in a more typical hot and dry Gila woodland dominated by desert junipers. We turned around.
On the return we met trail riding excursion from the guest ranch, whose horses got a bit spooked by our little group. The wrangler was sure enough surprised to see anyone in this canyon. He may have had his doubts as to how we accessed the canyon, even as I explained, but remained diplomatic, perhaps knowing that there was little to say given that we were all on public land at the moment.
We rested in the shade of a cliff and some oaks and ate our bars. We wet our shirts and I, my cap, and filled water bottles from the stream for our dogs, all in preparation for the long hot climb back to the mesa top. We made frequent stops in the meager shade of scrub oaks, piñons and junipers as we went up and up.
Overshooting our original trajectory by using the road too long, we corrected and found ourselves back on the cow path that had originally assisted us. We found the cows too, for which I am grateful, as running into them put a quick halt, to a jackrabbit pursuit by the Scotties that had briefly put us in a panic. Back at the 4Runner everything was good.