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I’ve been experimenting again with time-lapse photography. Instead of using a junky, low-resolution Webcam, I’ve been creating time-lapse movies with still images taken with my Nikon D80 digital SLR. The difference is incredible, and the flexibility of multiple lenses and a standalone setup makes it easy to shoot almost any subject.

Here’s an example of a movie I created a few weeks ago, when the saguaro cacti in my yard were blooming. Saguaros bloom at night and close up during the day. I wanted to capture the closing of the flowers, so I focused on a bunch of flowers at the top of one of my cacti. In the resulting movie, however, the clouds steal the show:

If you’d like to learn more about my recent time-lapse efforts, read “Time-Lapse Mania.” You can also click the time-lapse tag on my personal blog to see all of the time-lapse movies I’ve published on the Web.

Part Five: Rock Cabins

In Part Four of this series we examined a variety of dry stack terrace walls that are found at old mines and settlements. These were built to provide flat areas for housing and cemeteries. In Part 5 we conclude the series with a discussion of Dry Stack Cabins.

Our modern concept of a cabin probably conjures the notion of a place up in the high country where you go to relax on weekends and during the hot summer. This typical ‘cabin’ has hot and cold running water, a microwave oven, indoor shower and toilet, and may even sport a solar panel on the roof. There will be double pane windows and a gas burner in the fireplace. Of course, the fireplace would be purely for enjoyment, since the cabin will have a heat pump that provides thermostatically controlled, whole-house warmth (or cooling) on demand. It may have two or three bedrooms and a loft, and probably has a security system for peace of mind when you are away.

Figure 1, Dry Stack Cabin at Columbia. Photo by Neal Du Shane

These so-called ‘necessities’ would have been unimaginable luxuries to the miners and settlers who built dry stack cabins in territorial Arizona. In fact, dry stack construction was necessitated by the paucity of other resources, such as mortar or lumber, in the early settlement days. Figure 1 shows a rock cabin that lacks all of the features described in the opening paragraph, yet it fulfilled the most basic requirement for shelter and safety. There are several noteworthy features about this structure at the Columbia ghost town:

• The entryway had no door. Wood planking would have been needed for the door and its frame, but no suitable materials were locally available. The entry was probably covered (from the inside) with a piece of carpet or other heavy material to block wind and rain, and to help retain heat from the fireplace during the winter season.
• The wood beam at the top of the doorway appears to be a roughly shaped piece of juniper; which could have been obtained from a higher elevation in the nearby Bradshaw mountain slopes. The (very) course nature of the wood indicates it was not made of Ponderosa pine, which would only have been available above 5500 feet and perhaps fifteen miles to the northeast of this cabin.
• The dry stack walls below the wood beam and the rear fireplace wall appear to have been constructed with shaped stone. The faces of these walls are generally smooth, the entryway is neat and vertical, and the courses of rock are tightly fitted.
• The area above the wood beam is not uniformly constructed. In some respects, this section of the wall appears to be a jumble of irregular rocks that were used to form the angle for the roof.
• The small openings on the right side of the wall may possibly have been for defense against attack.
• The opening above the entry (and a similar opening at the rear of the cabin) provided ventilation.
• The floor of this one room cabin was dirt.
• The relatively small size of the fireplace suggests it was used only for heating the interior. It was probably not used for cooking.

When you consider that the temperature in the high desert can range from the mid-90’s in April to 115 (or higher) in August and September, it is no wonder that food preparation would have been more pleasant outside of the cabin.

Figure 2, Reverse View - Dry Stack Cabin. Photo by Neal Du Shane

Figure 2 shows a reverse angle of the cabin at Columbia. I have selected it for two important reasons: First, it shows that the chimney was an external structure. In other words, the chimney walls were built on the outside of the cabin. Why is this? My assumption is that an internal chimney structure would radiate more warmth in the living area, but would take excessive space in this very small cabin. The second observation in Figure 2 is to show the foundation structure. Notice that the rear and right walls are inset from the base. This construction technique provided greater stability for the cabin walls and has contributed to its survival to this day.

The roof of this cabin may have been made with sapling poles that supported a canvas tarp. Regardless of the method of construction, it is unlikely that the roof would have been watertight. No evidence remains of the roofing material today.

Historical information on the earliest days of Columbia is scant, to be sure. There are anecdotal records indicating that mineral exploration began in the 1850’s, but the site was abandoned. A renewed effort to develop mining in this area occurred 1868. Whether this structure dates to the earliest mining effort or to 1868 is unknown. In either case, this was a dangerous area for miners and settlers due to persistent hostile actions by local Native Americans.

Figure 3, Natural Stone Cabins

The construction of dry stack cabins was not limited to the use of flat, shaped rocks. Figure 3 shows two small structures that relied upon material that is best described as boulders. The lower cabin (bottom center) is a small, single room structure. The cabin in the center differs only in size. In both cases it is likely the roofs used the pole and canvas method. There are no fireplaces or chimney structures in either cabin. Because they are located in the immediate area of a mine, it probably means that meals were provided to workers at a central location at the camp, since there is no evidence of cooking pits at either cabin.

Neither structure shows indication of a peaked roof, as compared to Figures 1 and 2. Thus, it is reasonable to conclude these were semi-permanent ‘tent cabins’ that may have been used by a series of itinerant miner workers.

Figure 4, Dry Stack Cabin at Unida Mine

Figure 4 provides an example of a dry stack cabin that used a mixture of shaped and natural stone to achieve a tight fit. The courses of rock in the walls were carefully laid, but rise only to a height of less than five feet. Notice the absence of rock debris around the structure. If this building had collapsed from natural causes, you would see a lot of material lying along the wall margins. Instead, I speculate that portions of the cabin walls were intentionally removed, possibly to build another structure nearby.

Of particular note is the front wall in the left center of the photo, which is nearly three feet wide. Another distinguishing characteristic of the cabin is that these grayish stones do not match the local granitic rock. The material must have been hauled in from a quarry site.

Figure 5, Natural Destruction of Cabin

The rock cabin shown in Figure 5 is located near the bottom of a wash that flows into Buckhorn Creek, east of Wickenburg. Unfortunately, the builder selected a location that was a bit too close to the wash, resulting in the eventual demise of the structure. Even so, there are several important features of this cabin. For example, the interior wall was built into the hillside. The fireplace and rear wall serve as a retaining barrier against sedimentation from the uphill slope. The fireplace is quite large and would easily allow cooking.

The jumbled pile of rocks in the right foreground are the remains of the right (south) wall. Interestingly, there is no evidence that a front wall was ever constructed. Three- walled enclosures may have been a common occurrence, since an open structure would have provided better ventilation (but less radiant warmth) than a fully enclosed cabin.

This cabin appears to be quite old and probably pre-dates a settlement to the left (north) that may have had up to 300 residents in the early 1900’s. The area is dotted with abandoned mines within a one mile radius of the site.

Figure 6, Miner’s Cabin near Keystone

Figure 6 shows a rare example of a dry stack cabin that still contains wood components. A mine adit and shaft are about one hundred yards to the east (right) of this photo. This is a typical one room cabin that features a small fireplace in the upper left corner. Wall construction appears to be haphazard, as evidenced by the very large boulders resting on top of smaller rocks on the front wall.

The seeming abundance of wood beams suggests a roof structure that (again) employed a canvas tarp, since there is no evidence of other wood roofing materials or corrugated metal. Another mine settlement is located in the valley beyond this hillside, but the structures there were made entirely with wood, indicating a younger age than this cabin.

Figure 7, Primitive Tent Cabin

In Figure 7 you see a partially collapsed “U” shaped structure with rock walls that are about three feet in height. This is probably the most primitive type of dry stack dwelling you will find. It is known as a ‘tent cabin’ and was a common method for creating a temporary sleeping shelter to protect an individual from the weather. This particular ‘cabin’ had an interior dimension of approximately four feet in width by nine feet. The builder (probably a transient mine worker) dug a flat area out of the hillside and then stacked the rock walls. A canvas tarp - supported by one or two wood poles - would have completed the structure. This type of cabin could only have been used for sleeping and could not have accommodated more than two people. In contrast to previous examples, this structure does not suggest a sense of permanency on the part of the occupant. This dwelling could have been re-used over a long period of time, since it is located near two mines that operated from approximately 1885 until 1941.

Figure 8, Ravages of Time. Photo by Kevin Hart

Figure 8 shows a cabin near Columbia that is slowly succumbing to the forces of nature. In its day, it was surely an impressive structure and it is larger in area than any other dry stack cabin shown in this article. The walls were about eight feet high and the peaked roof would have provided a sense of spaciousness. The fireplace, located on the right wall, was large enough to radiate warmth throughout the cabin. Notice that the chimney structure is on the interior, in contrast to the example in Figure 2. Sadly, the near left corner has collapsed, destroying a significant portion of the wall.

When you examine all photos in this article, it becomes evident that dry stack cabins were quite small by modern standards and were utterly Spartan in their features. They may have supported a single individual or an entire family in a one room structure. They are found in places that were then, and remain today, in remote and rugged areas. That remoteness is, perhaps, why they have survived to the present time. These cabins and the other structures shown in the previous articles, endure because of the respect and forbearance of visitors who admire the effort and struggle of pioneers who came to the Arizona Territory in dangerous times.

Every dry stack structure you have seen in this series, regardless of how well it was crafted, is a treasure from our past. They were built by Mexican, Chinese and Native American laborers as well as immigrant miners and settlers from Ireland, England, Germany and even Brazil. You may think they are silent markers to our history, but each one has a story waiting to be told. They cannot be replaced.

My thanks go to fellow members of the Arizona Pioneer and Cemetery Research Project for their photo contributions to this series. APCRP.org is dedicated to the location, documentation, preservation and ongoing research of Arizona’s derelict pioneer settlements, cemeteries and mines. It is truly a labor of love.

The Journal of Prevarication
The Most Trusted Name in Lying 

By Jim Cook
Official State Liar of Arizona

When I had my right hip replaced recently, the only replacement joint the surgeons could find in my size was manufactured in New Zealand. 

As you know, things from south of the equator run opposite to the way things operate in the northern hemisphere. Clockwise becomes counterclockwise, and versa vice. 

When my right leg steps forward, my left leg responds by taking a step backward. This is the closest I’ve ever come to knowing how to dance. 

I keep coming face to face with myself. Or, we’re dancing cheek to cheek.

Miss Ellie demanded to know what I had done with the old hip. “Did you throw it away?” she asked.

She never throws anything away, and she watches closely to make sure I don’t sneak something out of the house. She still has frayed towels that her ancestors borrowed from the Mayflower.

“I donated the old hip to Habitat for Humanity,” I said. 

“Did you get a receipt?” she wanted to know.

“Yes, but I lost it.”

Walking in circles actually helps me navigate the clutter in our house, and it saved my life the other day when I stumbled into a nest of angry rattlesnakes. 

Ellie’s cousin Elizabeth, better known as Tippy, knows a lot about snakes. She used to keep exotic snakes as pets, and she’s fearless when pursuing rattlers. 

Tippy is also a fine photographer, and she was looking for scenic photographs.  But she knew I wanted to find evidence of crotalus furious, the world’s only fur-bearing rattlesnake. It is  known in Arizona as the Hassayampa Argyle. You may read the “furious” in crotalus furious as meaning very angry. Think “fur”  instead.

We went crawling along the Castle Hot Springs road, stopping to poke the bushes for snakes. It was a grand expedition.

This land belonged to Mexico in the 1820s when mountain men, trappers and illegal immigrants from the U.S., discovered the fur-bearing snake. By 1835, women in New York and London were wearing rattlesnake stoles.  

Other snakes shed their skins several times a year,whenever they outgrow them. During an Arizona summer, the Hassayampa Argyle can’t wait to get out of his fur coat. He sheds his pelt every few days, starting at his lips and peeling backwards until he can slide out of his fur tube, like a woman wriggling out of a tight dress.  

Snake pelts littered the ground when the mountain men came here. Finders keepers. The furs were turned inside-out as the snakes shed them, and the mountain men had only to turn them outside-out. Collecting the long tubes was much easier than trapping and skinning larger varmints.

The largest snake fur on record was nine feet long by eight  inches in diameter, worn as a wrap by a scrawny queen of Belgium. She had it fitted with rattles of 14-carat gold.

Then the furry snakes began to thin out. By 1898, scientists had declared them extinct.

I reported recently that herpetologists and game biologists suspected that the Hassayampa Argyle was back. They would not know until the snakes came out of hibernation in the spring.

On our recent expedition, we stopped at Castle Hot Springs ant talked to Mr. Castle. He said he’d heard there were some fuzzy rattlers over on Snowball-in-Hell Mesa.

When we found crotalus furious, it was almost an afterthought. We had located two western diamondbacks. Then Tippy found a speckled rattlesnake in its red phase.

While she tried to flush the red snake out of a bush so we could photograph him, I got so excited that I was careless about where I stepped.

I heard an odd noise and looked down. I was standing in a nest of crotalus furious. Some of them were wriggling out of their pelts. 

I tried to step away, and my left leg went backwards, as it does nowadays. That took it out of the reach of a striking rattlesnake, who hit another snake right in his beard.

The funny thing was, their warning noise was not the buzz of your normal rattler. It sounded more like a cell phone ringing.

I was so rattled that I picked up a snake and tried to answer it. Miss Ellie called out for me to put the snake down, and Tippy used her snake hook to jerk it away from my ear.

Tippy was taking photos, and Ellie was stuffing snake pelts into a pillow case that she had brought along, just in case.

One modest rattler tried to get back into his pelt. He made a backing-up sound: ”Beep……beep…..beep…” 

Most days around here, dullness comes in bunches. But when a day turns exciting, it stays that way.

On the way home, we stopped at a supper club. Walking toward  the restroom to wash up, I won a dance contest.  The band was playing “Shake Rattle and Roll.”

Part Four: Terrace Walls

The third article on Dry Stack Walls provided photos and interpretive text on the identification and construction of walls that can be found at mines and settlements; including heavy walls for mining operations, corrals, retaining walls and foundations. Part Four describes walls built for the purpose of constructing terraces for housing and cemeteries.

Previous articles have focused on dry stack walls that were primarily built for transportation, mining activity and corrals. We now turn to walls that served a much more personal need - the construction of terraces for housing and for cemeteries. The fundamental purpose of a terrace is to provide a flat area in terrain that is not naturally level. I submit that there are no naturally occurring flat areas in the mountainous mining districts of Arizona.

Figure 1, Terrace Wall for Buildings

The criteria I use to classify a terrace are based on two simple, but essential, points: First, there must be an upper retaining wall (whether natural or man-made). Second, a lower wall must also be present. The area between these upper and lower structures is (or was at some past time) essentially ‘manufactured’ flat ground. Figure 1 provides a clear example of a terrace. In this case, the upper wall was cut into the rocky hillside and the lower dry stack wall was constructed using shaped stone. It should be evident that the terrace area was created by providing additional fill soil. This terrace provided space for two houses, as evidenced by the remains of the wood structures in the center of the photo.

Figure 2, Typical Dry Stack Terrace Walls

Figure 2 is possibly the best illustration I have found of a terrace wall structure that provided a ‘nearly perfect’ flat area. The combined height of both walls is nearly five feet (from the bottom of the lower wall to the top of the upper wall). Sedimentation at this site has been effectively eliminated for more than one hundred years, even though the two walls were constructed using irregular (unshaped) native stones. As in Figure 1, fill soil was used to create the flat terrace.

In case you haven’t already noticed, the two walls in Figure 2 and the lower wall in Figure 1 rise a few inches above the level of the soil. Why is this? Take another look at the uphill side of the terrace in Figure 1, where two things become obvious: (1) Steep hillsides, and (2) very thin topsoil. In fact the term ‘topsoil’ is, practically speaking, a euphemism. Persistent exfoliation of granitic rocks in the mountainous areas produces a loose, sandy material that is easily washed downhill by seasonal rains where, ultimately, it is deposited in the creeks, washes and gulches. Consequently, the ’soil’ that you find on the steep hillsides is exceedingly thin and loose. The essential point is that these terrace walls were not only constructed to provide flat areas at a point in historical time, but to also guard against future erosion and sedimentation from the uphill slopes.

Figure 3, Terrace Wall Covered by Foliage

Figure 3 shows a terrace wall that is only visible from a close distance. Two search methods can be used to infer the location of walls of this type. First, the terrace above this wall can only be observed from a distance and at a higher elevation. I found this wall by scanning the terrain from several hundred yards from the west and about three hundred feet above. The terraced area was ‘flat’ and relatively free of vegetation - a definitive indicator of past pioneer activity. Second, notice the line of mesquite and acacia trees that are located on the margin of the wall. These trees have prospered from the soil used to create the terrace. I believe they have also benefited from the reduced rate of runoff (that is, an improved rate of moisture absorption). Whenever you observe a straight line of vegetation in a remote area, you can be reasonably certain that human activity was involved. Naturally straight lines are exceedingly rare!

Figure 4, Cemetery Terrace Wall

Figure 4 shows a short section of terrace wall at a large pioneer cemetery. Close observation of the general slope (from left to right) shows a steady downward incline and it is doubtful there was any intent to create ‘flat’ ground in the upper portion of the cemetery. Instead, this dry stack was probably intended to mitigate erosion. There are two additional terrace walls to the right of this photo that rendered more level ground for graves. This wall faces just a few degrees north of west, so it is exposed to considerable sun light. Notice that these westward-facing rocks have been ‘bleached’ by a century of exposure.

Figure 5, Cemetery Wall and Wood Post

Figure 5 shows the corner of another dry stack cemetery wall. In my experience, at least, I have found very few derelict cemeteries that still have wood posts or other structures (such as grave markers). In this example you can see a post at the upper right that served as part of a fence along the southern margin of the cemetery. The wall in this photo appears to lean into the steep hillside, but it has not been effective in preventing sedimentation. The area between this and a lower terrace wall has seen the deposition of several inches of soil over the decades.

It is usually a straightforward matter to infer the original purpose of a dry stack wall, as the photos in previous articles will attest. Figure 6 shows one of the terrace walls at the site known as the ‘Arrastre Cemetery.’ Although the upper and lower areas now contain twenty-two graves, the walls were actually constructed to provide work and (probably) living space at a Mexican arrastre; located out of view to the right. Historical accounts indicate the arrastre could have been in use by the middle 1880’s, but was abandoned near the end of 1890. The two terrace areas were subsequently used for burials and the arrastre was partially dismantled to provide headstones at some of the graves. The site was cleared of undergrowth and dead tree limbs during a series of restoration projects in 2008. Otherwise, this wall would be barely visible - even from distance shown here.

Figure 6, Terrace Wall at Arrastre Cemetery

This dry stack gives the appearance of having been crudely built, and that is indeed true. Arrastres were known as ‘the poor man’s mill’ and were primarily used to ‘prove’ the value of an ore vein. This wall lacks the craftsmanship and aesthetic qualities evidenced in other walls; possibly because there was no objective beyond the immediate extraction and amalgamation of ore. While the size and weight of these stones have kept the wall in place, the irregular shape of the rocks has allowed sediment to flow over and through the wall in the time since it was constructed.

Notice the surface in the foreground of the photo. It has a reddish cast and is relatively dark. Seasonal rains have steadily washed soil from the hillside onto the terraces. More than a century of undisturbed plant growth has been deposited on the site and mixed into the soil by animals. The ground slope between the upper and lower walls only became apparent after the lower terrace was cleared of undergrowth and debris. In fact, the actual base of the wall is more than twelve inches below the visible surface and there are at least two more courses of rocks. This photo is an example of why careful observation is important. If you believe you have located a terrace (that is, with upper and lower dry stack walls), remember that the purpose was to create a flat area. If you observe a sloping surface, that is an indicator of sedimentation.

It can be challenging and, at times, frustrating to separate what you see ‘today’ from what a site would have looked like more than a century ago. Be patient and do not let your first impression drive your understanding of a pioneer site. There is always more than meets the eye!

What Do These Photos Tell You?

1. Good craftsmanship and thoughtful placement of dry stack walls can produce terraced spaces that will prevent erosion and sedimentation.
2. Low terrace walls are easily masked by plant growth and can be very difficult to locate, particularly if they are above your line of sight. However,
3. If you can gain advantage with elevation, the flat area behind a terrace wall will be more easily revealed.
4. Look for other indicators, such as straight lines of tree growth as an aid to locating dry stack terraces.
5. Sedimentation from slopes and soil deposition from flash flooding may mask the height of many walls.

In Part Five, the final article of this series, we will examine dry stack rock cabins that are found in the mining districts and settlements of pioneer Arizona.

In 1863, prospectors led by Joseph Walker and Pauline Weaver, discovered placer gold along the upper Hassayampa River, northeast of Wickenburg, and not too far north of Wickenburg, where a surface nuggets covered the ground on what came to be called Rich Hill. Gold fever resulted in a large influx of prospectors hoping to strike it rich. However the lack of water needed to placer mine brought disappointment and frustration. The Hassayampa has yearly cycles of a lot of water and no water in the summer. It was said that there was either enough water to float a steamboat or dry enough that the fish had to carry canteens.

The approximate location of the Walnut Grove Dam, which failed in 1890.

Work on the Walnut Grove dam began in 1886 and was completed in late 1887. It was to serve two purposes: to provide the water need for placer mining and to irrigate over 500 acres of farmland below the dam.

The Walnut Grove dam was a loose rock dam. It consisted of a mass of loose rock placed together with some degree of care. When properly constructed it should be as substantial as one made of masonry. Its destruction was not a result of poor design, but of carelessness in some of the details of its construction. They did not take enough care when placing the loose rocks together. Smaller stones should have been used to fill the interstices between the larger ones so that settlement could be the least possible. An emergency spillway of adequate proportions is very necessary. This would be used to release water to keep water from flowing over the top of the dam when the reservoir received a substantial increase in water. Water flowing over the top of the dam would result in the dam settling and if this would happen, the dam would fail. The original plans called for a spillway 55 feet wide and 12 feet deep. As a cost saving measure, the spillway completed was 15 feet wide and 8 feet deep.

On February 18, 1890 there was strong precipitation in the Bradshaw Mountains that persisted for three days. The warm rain on top of the larger than normal snow pack, resulted in a huge runoff. On the third day the water behind the dam was rising at the rate of 18 inches per hour. The amount of water entering the lake behind the dam was so large that the too small spillway discharge was not sufficient to keep the level of the lake from rising. Moreover, the spillway was soon blocked with trees and rubbish. Attempts to free the spillway with dynamite were not successful. Soon water began flowing over the top of the dam and it was clear that disaster was eminent.

When the Superintendent of the dam realized that the dam could not be saved, he initiated a last minute emergency plan. He turned to Dan Burke, who had been hired as the company’s blacksmith, and he asked Dan to ride down the Hassayampa and warn people of the imminent disaster. Since Dan was a long time resident of the area and knew the area well he seemed like the right choice for this mission. Dan was to ride 4 miles downstream to the diversionary dam that was under construction, to warn the workers of the imminent disaster. Unfortunately Dan had a real fondness for alcohol and he only got as far as Brow’s Saloon, where he got so drunk that he never carried out his assignment.

When the dam failed at 2:00 AM on February 21, 1890, it released one of the largest volumes of water ever released from a dam failure in the United States. When the water rushed down the steep and narrow Box Canyon it was 80 feet tall. Fish were found in canyon walls 80 feet above the Hassayampa. When it reached Wickenburg, a distance of 30 miles, in two hours, the wall of water was 40 feet tall.

There were between 70 and 100 deaths. It appears that either all, or nearly all, of the fatalities occurred upstream from Wickenburg. The dam was never rebuilt.

The town of Wickenburg, originally called Pumpkin Patch, is located on the Hassayampa River flood plain. It was originally called Pumpkin Patch because the Indians used it extensively for the growing of crops. This flood plain provided fertile soil for farming and ranching. After Henry Wickenburg divested himself of the Vulture Mine, he planted a large orchard on this flood plain. His orchard was destroyed in the flood. One of the biggest losses Wickenburg suffered because of the flood was the tremendous amount of fertile soil that was washed away.

Several lawsuits were filed against the owners of the dam, but not a single dime was ever collected. One of the suits filed was by Henry Wickenburg. Henry was financially ruined by the Walnut Grove dam disaster. He committed suicide on May 14, 1905, an old and broken man.