It's Day 194.....it's also November 16, 2019.....and we are in Congress Arizona

It's Day 194.....it's also November 16, 2019.....and we are in Congress Arizona

We might have struck out in finding an awesome camp site last night......not that spending the night on a truck stop parking lot is horrible.....but it's certainly not " a discovery" or "the photo op" we've become accustomed to....maybe even a little addicted to....tonight....would be very different.

As we closed in on that Phoenix Metro area.....and those 4 or 5 million people......we were determined to "get back out there.....and we did. We'd head out of Vicksburg on hiway 60.....passing through places like Salome, Hope, and Aguila....we'd stop here and there to snap photo's of the run down....long since abandoned roadside motels. One....behind a cafe style diner was even still open.....but from I could tell the residents were more long term....maybe month to month renters.....the days of roadway traffic bringing life to these tiny little roadside motels are little more than a distant memory. Decided to grab some lunch in that diner. Enjyoing my club sandwhich at the cafe counter....I'd watch .....as the occassional pick up truck would roll in......cowboys grabbing lunch.....then head back out. Without even talking to anyone I was quickly realizing that .... life was all about ranching out here.....and when your life....and your livelihood is some 100 miles from any "big" city.......Hmmmm......again I found myself wondering......whats that life like?

Polished off that club sandwich......a quick walk with Dougie then it was just 50 miles or so up the road when we came to a place called Wickenburg....we had to stop and check that one out a bit....I mean....the Name alone right? We looked around the area for a bit....and just like most every place you stop.....and actually look.....you can learn some pretty interesting stuff....

Wickenburg today has a population of around 7000......and is known throughout the area for a couple of differnt things....First....definitely serves as a hub for the many much smaller communities around it. Much more accessible to those smaller communities when it comes to stocking up on the essentials.....making the long drive to larger metropolitan areas needed much less frequently. Second.....it's also a community known for celebrating it's roots and history throughout the year....through several festivals, fairs, and even their own version of Oktoberfest....celebrating the German Heritage of the Towns founder.....Henry Wickenburg.

But just 156 years ago things were very different for this little town.....when that German immigrant discovered the areas first gold mine....and that mine....named the Vulture Mine would produce over 30 million dollars worth of gold...adjusted to todays dollars.....nearly 850 million dollars worth of gold came out of that mine...in a little piece of Arizona's Sonoran desert.

And just like everywhere we've been so far. Where there was gold...there would be conflict. Conflict with native americans would plague the area for decades.....until.....the end of the civil war....when the US was able to re-direct troops and begin a more aggressive force relocation campaign...as I'd learned in many of our other stops...it's a story played out time and time again across the country during this period of time.

As conflicts with native americans subsided....the town would be devistated by a flood in 1890 caused when the Walnut Grove Dam failed. Over 50 people lost their lives to the flood....and it would take Wickenburg years to recover.

But through all this...the town would push forward relying on mining...but even more so, Ranching and Farming. At one point, the town was even considered for the territorial capital of Arizona....missing out by just two votes to Prescott Arizona. Interesting side note Arizona's captial city would be changed 3 times in 2 decades....ending in the 1889 vote that moved the capital to Phoenix...where it remained. Also fun to learn that Wickenburg is the oldest city north of Tuscon ..... and the 5th oldest in the state. Ok....one last fun fact....if your diggin around on the internet trying to learn the other four oldest towns in Arizona....you stumble across the name...Oraibi. This...is a Hopi village....founded in 1100 ad....and is widely considered to be the oldest continuously inhabited community in the United States.

It would have been easy ...and fun....to find a spot in Wickenburg and keep learning....but for some reason we were itchen to go deeper into those mountains above us. So....decided to head north on 93 then taking 89 just south of this place called Congress....when it happened again.....a sign....and another dirt road.

There were actually.....a couple signs. The first one read..“Road closed to rigs over 40ft. in length 37 miles ahead”.

Although curious to find out why....we didn't make it that far.....because just a mile or so past that sign...another one stating Arizona 68....directing us left....and north....up into those mountains...on that dirt road.

That dirt road that would take us over 40 miles into, and through more desert…but a very different desert. Less than a mile into what seemed to be a very well maintained, albeit dirt road…I read the next sign.... “This road not regularly maintained…use at your own risk”. “

Things are looking up”…I thought as I pulled my sunglasses down over my eyes and drove into the afternoon sun. The road wound into and through that brand new kind of Arizona desert…new to us anyway....rapidly shifting in personality. No more Joshua trees or wide open spaces filled only with scrub brush , rocks, dirt and ant mounds…our surroundings had quickly shifted to Mountains that looked as if huge boulders had simply been piled up to form them and the greenery was just that…green. The baked brown of the Mohave desert had transitioned and was welcoming us into this new world…even the stately Saguaro had introduced itself into the scenery…yet still sparingly…as if to put an exclamation point in just the right places. The washboard road kept our speed down…all the better because I needed time to take it all in. In the span of 45 minutes…and around 10 miles…3 cars had passed us…all with a friendly wave and or the tip of a cowboy hat. Every so often a ranch house would appear off in the distance…then disappear behind the mountain in our rear view.

Knowing.... there would be no truckstop to fall back on in these mountains....so I kept a keen lookout for that perfect spot to pull off…but nothing felt just right…yet. I glanced at the clock every now and again…then at the sun low in the sky over my left shoulder, ensuring I knew just how long before it would tuck behind a mountain calling it a day…there would be no looking for a spot in the dark today. I pulled off into a wide spot in the road…a semi circular driveway of sorts marked with a for sale sign. While Dougie inspected our surroundings I read the details on the flyer and fantasized about living on the 25 acre “income generating horse property” being advertised...here in the mountains above Wickenburg Arizona. But with the flyer telling me that little fantasy would cost nearly a million bucks....it would have to wait a bit.

The flyer also told me I was on Date Creek Road in Congress Arizona. We pulled back out onto that dirt road and went not more than a couple blocks when I saw the railroad tracks I had not seen until now. With them I saw a wonderfully flat and manicured area on the side opposite the road we were on. Now we just had to find out how to get over there. Another couple hundred yards, around the next bend we would find where the road crossed those tracks…there it was…the driveway to our address for the night.

Tonight we will sleep amidst these boulder built mountains overflowing with innumerable forms of desert flora and peppered with “horse properties”… crawling with who knows what form of four, eight….and even no legged critters.

Half dozen or so pickups....stock trailers in tow....would pass by between when we parked and nightfall…each with a wave and that customary tip of an Arizona cowboy’s hat…

One..... even stopped and checked to see if we were lost….I guess we do frequently seem a bit out of place.

“How’d you get that in there” he asked…gesturing towards Vacilando.

“Drove it” I smiled….pointing at that access point just beyond the railroad crossing. He cautioned us not to be there when the rains come…”lot of run off thru there ya know…that’s why they keep it so clear”. I thanked him and insisted we’d be gone well before any rain came through. “I spose you know a bit about rain” he grinned as he tipped his hat towards my Washington State license plates. “A little” I replied. He climbed back into his shiny new red Ford F250…super duty of course…empty stock trailer in tow and as his brake lights dimmed to tail lights he tipped that hat one last time…this time in Dougie’s direction…who was sniffing a pile of railroad tie spikes…”keep an eye on your little guy there…coyote’s sometimes run in packs through here after dark”. “Will do” I waved. “Thanks for stoppin” I called as his tail lights faded into dust…along with the empty stock trailer clamoring along behind.

After a walk....a bunch of photo's....and some dinner.....it was time to learn why this place was called Congress....Arizona.

First the name....not exactly what I was expecting....the town was named after the Congress Mine.

The Congress Mine was named after the Congress claim, which was one of the initial claims staked by a guy named Dennis May and his partners in 1884. It appears they named the mine Congress....giving it the sense of importance...and prominence, they felt it deserved. And their aspirations and expectations turned out to be well placed...the Congress mine would go on to be one of the richest Gold Mines in Arizona History. ....

The story from there....sounds pretty familiar.....the mine would lend it's name to the community that popped up quickly around it.

Later years would bring Railway connections to the town...further boosting the towns growth through connectivity to surrounding areas like Prescott and even Phoenix.

The towns economy would remain strong into the 1930's when Congress....like the rest of the nation....would fall into decline. The decline in Congress was initiated by the closures of the mines as they stopped producing....quickly becoming fatal....as the entire country fell into The great depression.

And there ya have it. Just like that. In the span of some 50 or 60 years a town had been born...battled through conflict and flourished during a mining and railway boom.....and then to end.....nearly as quickly as it had begun.

With the closing of the Congress mine in the early 1930's.....nearly all of the towns 2000 or so residents would leave....in search of work, and a living elsewhere. Only a handful of folks would remain in Congress ....primarily folks associated with the small railway station known as Congress Junction. For nearly 40 years the town would actually be referred to as one of Arizona's Ghost towns.

The 1960's and 70's would begin to change that.....and life would return to Congress. This time.....it would be retirement folks and tourists bringing life....money......and a future back to the town.

Wickenburg....just 16 miles away....had made it through the great depression, and was once again booming in the years following WW2. Congress.....became attractive to folks drawn to the area for it's mild winters and beautiful desert scenery.....all offerred in a quieter ....more rural setting.....yet......access to all the amenties are just up the road in Wickenburg. It seems that is just how the thousand folks or so that call Congress home....like it.

Went for one last walk with Dougie while Billie watched and voiced his opposition to the fact that he was watching from inside….he’s not a fan of dad’s “not allowed outside near dark rule” After both boys had enjoyed an evening snack I closed up all the windows, hoisted Dougie onto his bed and crawled into mine......hit the switch to shut off the generator.....was just settling in when.....the trains came.

The light show and sounds they brought grabbed and demanded my attention with a force that almost left scars. Sure, I’ve seen and heard plenty of trains…but it is beyond descripton when one so dramatically shatters the entire and whole silence of a desert night. Out of the silence…the red lights of the railroad crossing signs flashed and before I could grasp, let alone figure out why Vacilando’s insides were glowing red…the lights grew brighter…and brilliant…and then a horn shatters any semblance of remaining silence. Vacilando rumbled as the engine roared past lighting everything…inside and out as if the previous days sun had changed it’s mind and thrown time into reverse. As it passed…the event softened and the sound dulled to the clamor of each boxcars wheels rolling over the seams in the tracks…leaving behind that clickclack sound......my senses still engulfed in the dull roar of metal on metal but pillowed in the swoosh of air they first pushed through…then sucked in behind them. The last car passes…quiet returns not nearly as instantly as it had been cast aside moments before but eventually leaving no trace of a train ever having been here…except for those silent…flashing…glowing red lights….and then….even they were gone and the dark desert night re-took control over our existence. Three of those trains passed over the next couple of hours…and three times I was captivated…how could it be that I had picked this place to be at this moment in time I wondered…then the reality hit me that I had not picked this place…but rather...it picked us.

Finally.....well into the night.....and drifting off to sleep I involuntarily reached up and re-opened the window next to my bed…wouldn’t want to miss the sound of that pack of coyotes that might pass through… or the full impact the next train…if there was one. There wasn’t another that night…nor were there any coyotes…that we know of.....