More than 15 years ago we visited the lower end of this road by coming down Indian Creek, the only side canyon that penetrates the massive box section of Beaver Creek on the east side. We walked downstream until we got to private property boundary just below the spring which blocked easy access to lower part of stream. It was June and pretty hot and there wasn't a lot of good shade, although the stream had a bit of water.
I 'm not sure why I decided to drop in from a side canyon into the box back then, but I only recently realized that I had omitted the third or so of the box upstream from there, which is accessible from FR 150 on the very drivable ( high clearance needed though ) FR 4065E. We were there to walk though so we parked just a short way past the gate in the pasture fence, on what seemed to be the local dump from years gone by. There were old bedsprings and metal debris, broken glass and crockery laying about. There were also many cone topped cans, but way too many to be brake fluid containers ( the only recent item that I know that comes in a can that shape), and they were way too rusty to gain any other information. My working theory now, after doing a bit of research, is that they are early beer cans( 1930's -1950's), which were capped just like a bottle.
It was brisk 30 degrees as we walked into the canyon.The sides closed in taking us from an expansive meadow to a narrow, and still dark box with barren cliffs rising up hundreds of feet on the east and the more gradual hillsides on the west splashed with the oranges of autumn oaks.
Getting to the first horseshoe bend we entered a beautiful forest of tall pines with the colorful oaks as the understory. An actual rocky creek channel appeared in this section as well with the bright yellows of willows and boxelders along its banks. We ambled on, constantly looking up at the towering walls of the canyon with evergreens mixed in with the display of deciduous shrubs and trees. We passed gigantic talus fields made up of boulder-sized rocks. At the base of one, near the apex of an ox-bow, where it stays dark and cool most of the time, there were even a few aspens.
On we walked, at times using the livestock/ wildlife path when the road got rocky. Eventually, the pines gave way to junipers and the canyon opened up, and warmed up. Just past where the road goes over a narrow finger of rock that descends low enough to surmount, cutting across a bend rather than following it, the canyon opened and flattened out into a meadow area big enough for a football stadium, we rested in the shade against the cliffs.
I knew I did not want ruin this pleasant outing by crossing this sun- baked stretch ahead of us ( twice ), as it was getting very warm with the noon hour having arrived, so we headed back. We met one group of people, a family, out scouting for elk, but that was it, and this was a Saturday.
The box of Beaver Creek is an amazing place. Even though it has carved a canyon 500-700 feet at its deepest, it only has running water in its lower miles ( in a much less imposing section) where it is fed by springs. To give an idea of its twist and turns, our way one way hike was a little over three miles on the ground, but just a little over 1 mile as the crow flies. I will return one day to the last section just above its confluence with Taylor Creek ( which is the beginning of the East Fork of the Gila River ) and hopefully do a little bass fishing.
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