As fall came on, any "magic" that the summer had held began to fade, the fairy dust evaporated and life became in most ways more real, earnest and grim than ever. There were still a few good and special times but they became fewer and farther between. For one, colder weather limited evenings out.
Sept 25, 1965, Sat
Got up and away at a reasonable hour but nothing else was reasonable all day long. It was the damnedest day. We ‘talked’ ‘til 10:00 and then I rode out. I had the chores done by noon and came home. Then we talked ‘til 3:00 and then we had to do a day’s work in four hours. Mom and I went up to Price’s (she protesting loudly) and bought Crisco off of them. And then we loaded Prez and Buzzie and went horse/mule hunting. At least we got a good look at the two infamous bridges, #33 and #34. The former really is colossal (SOB Canyon) . We shot a rattler but didn’t get the rattles. We did catch the critters and brought them home. It was all quite a job. We brought Cinder home, put Crisco in the corral and did our chores by starlight. It felt so good to quit. At bedtime my temperature was 100. I really felt like quitting the whole deal. If I had a key to 193680...
Those damn 'talks' were the bane of my existence and to a similar degree of Charlie Mike's. I really can not recall much of what was said but generally: how we needed to make progress and what was required to make it happen; how one or more of us was failing and not carrying our load and were to blame for things not going well; how we ate too much, goofed off too much, did not pay enough attention and must work much better, harder, faster and perhaps smarter. Nothing was ever good enough or above reproach--not ever. I almost always went away angry and depressed, feeling either guilty or oppressed or both. This was one of the worse days in that regard but there were many.
Prices were some people we knew and basically were considered "friends". Crisco was a white fuzzy donkey. I know he was male but whether a jack or a gelding I cannot recall. He was allegedly broke and they needed to get rid of him for some reason I forget,. maybe just for a few dollars. How we could afford it I am not sure. (Maybe part of Mom's reluctance.) I guess they brought him over or we fetched him. Then at maybe 4:00 we set off up the river to find a missing bunch of mules and some of the mares. We should have started that no later than noon!! SOOO damn typical.
The bridges I mentioned were up the river where the track wound along at the eastern base of the "Cement Hills"--the big white bluffs NW of Clarkdale that were mined for the limestone the plant used. SOB was the farther one and crossed a very deep and narrow box canyon that went into the Verde River. The term had been used a long time, maybe back to when it was built (1900 or so) as it was a real Son-of-a-Bitch! The other was not named, just numbered (all railroad structures are numbered) but I called it Little SOB as it was not quite as fierce. I know Dusty's crew had worked on both at times.
Of course it was dark before all that was accomplished and feeding at night was never fun. Check the hay etc. and stumble around half blind and exhausted. There were few corners to be cut. The number I gave for which I wished I had a key was Dusty's camp car. I could probably have broken in easily --it was old and badly beat-up--but did not want to cause him a problem. While 100 does not sound like much fever, my usual body temperature has always been low so normal would be about 97.5. I did feel it.
Pictures: I made the trip on the VVScenic Train in 2006 and again in 2017. The first two are from 2006. The first --I think- -is Little SOB and the second a view down into that canyon. The next three were from 2017. The first is looking down into the canyon while crossing SOB. Next is approaching the bridge and the last is looking back at it from up the track. On our ride we would have been down in the river bottom or across on some roads on the other side. The animals would have been in the river bottom but probably back where the box canyon had not really begun.. It did get narrower farther up to a real box canyon.
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