Circle Seven Creek Box- Gila National Forest

Cliffs above Circle Seven Creek

                                       

 Over hang with early 20th century graffiti

 Narrow passage on Circle Seven Creek

Beaver dam

Three years ago on Easter weekend we hiked upstream on the Circle 7 Creek trail ( FT 106) just about as far as we could go. This Easter weekend we were out camping at Circle 7 Creek again. This time we would hike downstream. I got the idea from my friend Doug Scott who hiked to the little slot canyon down in there a couple of years ago and put the trip on his New Mexico Slot Canyons page. I wondered why I had never thought of that, but now on Saturday morning we were off to discover the Circle Seven box for ourselves, and as it turns out there was so much more there than that very short little slot section.
 The un-named and un-numbered road( on one map it's labeled 4146V) that starts off just north of Negro Bob Well  was a wonderfully scenic drive through last years luxuriant growth of now golden grass, and past tall ponderosa pines. After crossing the dry creek a couple of times we parked off the road in the dried weeds and wildflower stalks just a short ways from where the road dead-ends with a little loop for vehicles to turn around.

The boulders and lower streams side cliffs started almost immediately as we stomped down the dry gravel and rocks of the stream in jumps and bounds until reaching a large overhang in the limestone rock that overlooked a dry waterfall. On the lip of the overhang were names and drawings done in charcoal from over 100 years ago. This was a place to come back then, not so much since, I would venture to speculate.

Alcove with graffiti

Historical graffiti in depicting an envelope

Notice the couple below the name and date

 We backtracked a bit to find the cattle/wildlife trail that went around the waterfall on the stream's south side. When we got back down to the creek bed that's where everything changed. Water appeared which changed the stream from looking like so many pine and juniper lined canyons that run with water about  two months a year, to a real forest/desert oasis. Bright green cress grew in the pools, and thick grass hedged the undercut banks. Glass wort was everywhere underfoot.Willows were budding close at hand, and  while up above junipers poked out of cliffs of  marine sedimentary rocks  that rose up 500 feet to the ridge tops. Further down the stream flattened out, opened up and flowed over bedrock bordered with healthy alder trees.

Livestock and wildlife trails had been utilized but as the canyon narrowed again, the terrain of  boulders, bedrock and thickly tangled vines, shrubs and trees became increasingly difficulty to navigate with two headstrong Scotties.

 My wife graciously let me continue on downstream solo.  It was all rock hopping and scrambling down to the slot canyon section. It was dark at nearly noon with walls close to 100 feet high and the stream lively singing and echoing out both entrances.

Coming out of its cool environs it now felt like I had emerged into the high desert and left the low forest. Large cottonwoods appeared on the scene as did a few tiny fish and then to my wonder and surprise a newly constructed beaver dam.

The small pond that backed up behind held more fish.The paths through the brush and grass that I was walking were theirs.  Then in the juniper brush, I could hear them. It's hard to explain how incongruous this all felt. I would wager that at that moment, all but these two or three of Circle Seven's 13 or 14 miles were completely dry and yet here were beavers. Were they survivors somehow able to continue to eke out a living in the insulated world of this narrow canyon? Or have they been returned to live here perhaps by folks at the Ladder Ranch?
Towhees darted in and out of the bushes. Canyon wrens' laughter echoed on the cliffs of hard gray rock. After I returned and we ate lunch, we walked upstream and noticed  beaver chewed stumps both big and small that we had overlooked on the way down. This has been their canyon for  some time now.   Back up with big pines and dry stream, it was hard to imagine the riparian paradise we had just been in and hard to say goodbye.

 On the drive back we stopped at the log ruins of an old homestead. It's so easy to see why folks wanted to live in this idyllic valley, and easy to feel sad at their failed aspirations. I didn't feel too bad though, for I'm more than happy and thankful that it now belongs to everyone.

 NOTE: Although I did not see a fence or NO TRESPASSING posted, somewhere below the slot canyon section, this hike crosses over into the private property of the Ladder Ranch