Palo Verde, creosote, desert marygold and highway signs whizzed passed us as if they were in a rush to return to our origin.
Avenue 40E, the town of Welton, was the turn off. Then we turned right to a parking spot to circle our 'wagons.'
Hitting the dusty washboard trail after the pavement ended increased our excitement.
Sentinal giant saguaros standing as stewards with up reaching arms toward the heavens as if praying for rain could be seen in vast numbers. Soon we saw Octillos, Iron Wood, and an old rusty barrel. On we drove until a government car came by and offered to guide us to Combat Village. How nice of him. We stopped there to take pictures of where our soldiers practice their aim.
Onward our caravan trudged up the narrow road and down again until we found a place to park near the Betty Lee mine. There use to be copper mining in this area and the Betty Lee was one of many mines that were expired by now.
We pulled out out chairs and sat to eat our lunch. Then some hiked to the mine and others (such as myself) walked the sandy wash. After we shared our experiences and rocks collected, we headed for one of three plane crashes in the area. This one was an F-4.
Octillos, chollas, and mosquite dotted the landscape as we bumped and swayed along the road of sand. A bevy of quail split in front of us darting here and there when a black tailed rabbit with black tips on its' ears came bounding out and disappeared into the brush.
The crash site of many years ago soon came into view. The scattered remains, the charred fuselodge, and the tail section was all that was left.
The sun was creeping down so we drove on as the sun light dimmed. Finally reaching the main road the sky turned gold. It was a great day as we watched the sunset turn red and purple in the horizon.