Taking My Life in My Own Hands (on the Camino Del Diablo)

Camino del Diablo translates to Road of the Devil.

Doesn't sound too appealing... unless you like to 4-wheel drive or you live along the US-Mexico border. Well, I was living in Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument in a house only 4 miles north of the border and this road , or camino, was legendary.

This road was first made famous by Spanish soldier Melchior Diaz and Padre Kino in the 1500s. These Spaniards followed the road made by prehistoric Hohokam people and historic Tohono O'odham people. It was considered the only way to cross the driest part of the southwestern desert due to large tinajas (earthen bowls filled with water) that could be found in the mountains. During the gold rush of the 1840s, many men died along this route trying to get to California. This ancient road is literally lined with the graves of adventurers passed.

Now do you understand why this road got its name? Let me tell you about the two times I crossed it and hiked into its wild mountains.

When I first decided to drive the road, I knew I needed a companion... preferably one with a gun and the ability to use it. Seriously the only time I've EVER felt this way while traveling. My friend Leo was my first choice. He's a lot of fun to hang with, great experience in the desert, a federal law enforcement officer (federal LEO, hence the name I've given him), and has a Spot personal locator beacon.


Such a good book!

Leo and I began looking into the road. We found out that we needed a free permit from the local bombing range (you know, just in case they decided to bomb the day we were driving by. no worries here!). We also started reading random books written about the area to learn about the regional history. I chose "The Devil's Highway", an aptly named book about immigrants walking across the Arizona desert and the tragedy that ensued. Basically this book taught me all I never wanted to know about dying of thirst in the desert.

Needless to say, we packed some extra water, snacks, left notes for everyone telling them where we were and when we hoped to return, gassed up, got our "don't bomb us" permit, and took off!

The road starts out just south of town as a very nice dirt road. I've seen octogenarians in sedans driving it while bird-watching. It gets a little bumpy as it travels into Organ Pipe and passes Bates Well, an old ranching homestead.

not a lot left of the ranch

Due to the water resources that undoubtedly brought the Bates Well ranchers to the area, it is also a great place for illegals crossing the desert. So, this is the first place we will see evidence of Border Patrol. These 3 metals boxes, which must feel like ovens in the 120 degree summer, are housing units for the BP and are probably mostly used during marijuana  crop season.

My second trip down CdD, I ran into these BP guys.... got stuck behind them for several miles before they pulled over and let me by. The CdD is a two-way one-lane road. Passing is tough and meeting on-coming traffic is tougher.

Once the road exits the park and heads west, it gets pretty sandy so someone, I'm assuming BP, put down metal runners. These are slippery and loud and interesting to drive on. They only run for a few miles.

Seriously wanted to slam on my brakes at a high speed to see how far we would skid...



A lot of the drive was spent watching for graves on the side of the road - we saw a few but didn't get photos. Not gonna lie - a lot of the drive was spent watching the south side of the road for humans hiding in the bushes or running across the desert. We never saw anyone suspicious. We did, however, see this....

the astroturf is a nice touch... we know you're
scared and dying of thirst and possibly heatstroke
or tuberculosis, but here is some
astroturf to remind you of civilization.

This is one of several beacons that save lives. Written in English, Spanish, and Tohono O'odham, instructions state that by pushing the button, help will arrive within one hour and you should stay in place. The button not only sends signal to the nearest Border Patrol outpost but it also lights up a flashing beacon for anyone to see.

There is a large BP outpost set up out there along the way. Its not at all inviting but it did ease my mind as Leo and I drove by it. We had been traveling on hard packed dirt but up ahead was a very large valley, and valleys mean one thing: Sand. Sand is not a 4-wheeler's friend. I wanted to stop and have Leo drive but he refused, saying I needed to drive to prove to myself that I could do it. (Later he admitted that he didn't want to get us stuck and then have all of his LEO co-workers find out. So there! Now they all know. :-)  )

Not only was there sand, but the road was so entrenched that I was grateful for all 10 inches of clearance my Xterra provided us. Imagine being forced, at 30mph, to choose one of several paths, all the while knowing that you'd be stuck with the path chosen no matter what because your vehicle literally wouldn't be able to get out of it. That's exactly what happened; only oh wait! Don't forget the sand - powder-fine sand was billowing up all around the car so much that I had to turn on my windshield wipers. (Yes, I have indeed used windshield wipers in one of the driest places in north america - for sand, not water.) The wipers only marginally helped but never fear, the horrid trenched road kept us on path - remember those old timey model T cars at AstroWorld that straddled an iron bar, bouncing you back onto the path every time you tried to steer away? Yeah, same theory here. So here we are, driving blind at 30 mph in a trench filled with powder-fine sand, when it dawned on me that this is a two-way road and anyone coming directly at us would be in exactly the same predicament we were in. The constant scare of a head-on collision really did wonders for my other nagging concern for traversing the Camino in the first place. Thanks!

Of course Leo and I survived the trenches... and continued onto the flats. A lot of flats...

Eventually we hit the next series of mountains (the Camino crosses through a series of Basin and Range-style mountain ranges. This is where the water is and this is what made the desert cross-able ) The next mountain pass was pretty cool. There was a  primitive campground and a few small buildings. I guess one was a house or small store or something. Whatever, it was shade! We stopped in to take a look around. Someone a while back had stashed a composition notebook in there and all Camino-crossers had signed it. As I sat there and read all the entries over the last few years, I recognized a few names and had a few laughs. I was reminded of the notebooks left in huts all along the Appalachian Trail. Those are filled with some good reading!

The road splits around a few of the mountains several times, is filled with lots of dead-ends, and lots of beckoning places. Leo and I chose to take a side-road south, for reasons I can't remember. We traveled a pretty route between two mountains that was twisty-turny, steep-walled, and had been described in a book as 'a great place for banditos to hide and hijack a vehicle'. Awesome and I definitely agree. I was very uncomfortable with the idea of parking and walking away from the car in search of petroglyphs. The last thing we needed was to lose our vehicle in the middle of desert nowhere! Once we were out of Tinajas Altas Pass, we were soon stopped by BP. (It wouldn't be the last time we took a road less traveled and were stopped by BP. More on that another time.) It was nice to see someone along that section of road because we weren't exactly sure where we were. He pointed us up a road that led through another pass and back to the main route.

The road became very wide and flat, and we ran across a military training - I don't know what branch or what you call a group of military people because I simply don't care. Here was an encampment, training and exercising along the Camino. It was pretty disconcerting to see tanks and military weapons moving around out here in the beautiful wilderness. We were approaching Yuma so I'm guessing they come out of there to strafe and train and whatnot. The road soon dumped us unceremoniously out onto the highway and back into civilization. Our 13-hour trek along the Camino had come to an end. Its so odd to think that just miles south of Interstate 8 where people are whizzing by on their way to the Pacific Ocean, there is a whole other world waiting to be explored. (and it took more than a month for all of the powder sand to disappear from my vehicle.)

On a Camino trip the following year, my friend S and I went in search of Tinajas Altas - an infamous canyon filled with water, petroglyphs, and probably illegals. Past the mind-numbing flats, the powder sands, the campground... We knew how to sniff out rock art - go into the desert and find water... not so tough!

Looking north out of Tinajas Altas Canyon

We found Tinajas Altas, climbed up into it a bit but didn't want to get stuck like so many unfortunate animals have done. We spent a few hours looking around for petroglyphs, found a few but not the main ones we were hoping to see.

S standing lower left, climbing up around the canyons

All in all, both Camino trips were packed with adventure and wilderness. I draw happiness from knowing that there are still wild and dangerous places out there in the U.S., places to still head out into the unknown.