To break up my very long drive from Marlene’s place in Show Low, to my cousin David’s place in Hereford, I strategically planned to stop along the way and find a trail to hike and eat lunch. After driving through the Fort Apache Reservation, then the San Carlos Reservation, it looked like a good place to stop might be at Stafford, Arizona. Stafford is at a highway junction and a focal point of several tiny Arizona towns, and I expected to find a visitor information center of some kind. I found the Graham County Chamber of Commerce and spent quality time with a staff member who gave me all kinds of information and suggested several places to visit, with Dankworth State Pond near the top of her list.
I was hungry when I arrived, so I looked for a place to sit. There was a lovely family there, of a dad and three kids, all of them fishing from the shore. There was a man and his dog sitting on a raft out in the water, also fishing. Otherwise the place was empty and warm and quiet and lovely. I sat and ate some of the delicious food that Bill and Miki had sent me off with when I left their home in Scottsdale.
Soon I was satiated, and eager to hike the short trail. Before I arrived, I did not know there were ruins to see here from local Natives who used to live here. Soon I was walking in only a T-shirt in the lovely warm weather that I had not felt for months in Oregon.
It felt wonderful to get out of the car and walk around after so many hours of driving the day before and that morning, and knowing I had hours more to go. The trail lifted in elevation and that felt even better. The 1 1/2 mile loop trail is short but just the perfect length and 100 foot (30 m) elevation gain to get one’s heartbeat up.
Though I could not get close to any of the structures, I walked around the outside of the fence and was able to spot a couple of them through the brush.
I continued the loop back down the hill and back toward the lake. I discovered right away that while I was up on top of the rise, the sun had dropped so far behind the mountains that the valley was all in shadow.
At the lakeside, I spotted many tracks. There had been a recent snowstorm that made mud out of all the lakeside trails. Though it was dry when I stood there, the tracks were a lot of fun to explore. I spotted dog, of course, but lots of raccoon. In the image below with only two tracks, the one one the left is a big dog track, but I think the one on the right is a bobcat track.
I felt rejuvenated and inspired to get my butt down the road. I messaged my cousin and said I was full and was not expecting to eat when I arrived. I decided to just make good time on the road but got distracted with a gorgeous sunset that I already showed you in a previous post about all my great friends.
Finally, it was totally dark and I was absolutely unable to take any more photos. I focused on arriving at my Cousin’s house, and soon I was there.
Conscious Engagement 
The sign on the pond brought back memories. My brother-in-law used to like to go fishing for panfish like crappie. I’d go too just for companionship, but rreally did not like bony little fish.
I’m so glad I sparked some memories. Your comment sparked some in me as well.
As a kid, I had heard people talk about “croppie,” but my dad always said, “crappie” (pronounced like happy). I thought there were two different fish, and I liked to say crappie because it sounded like a curse word and I wouldn’t get in trouble for it. One time my dad corrected me to say croppie. My dad was a big time joker, and loved fooling people. So then I thought there was only one, the croppie, and he had just been fooling me for years. I was so embarrassed. Now, I realize it’s a pronunciation that varies by region. How interesting! Idahoans have a lot of southern twang and southern expressions and culture (like fried green tomatoes), so I wonder if this pronunciation is one more thing native Idahoans brought from the South.
That is a wonderful place to walk Crystal. Great trails to walk on. Seeing the animal tracks would have been lovely to know they are still around. So many fabulous sights. I like the old dwellings.
You know, Brian, it was the perfect time to look at tracks. The snow had fallen two days prior. So the mud was dry, but things were still very fresh. I think with two more days, traffic on the trails would have messed up all the tracks. So with more leisure, I think I could have happily poked about in the dry mud for another two hours. 🙂
You are so right. You had the perfect time so you weren’t sloshing around in mud if earlier. I bet it smelt wonderful as well 😀
Ha!! I’m glad I missed the smell of the fresh mud with all those animals moving through it and leaving their….evidence.
Nice post! What a great example of why one should not rush from point A to point B! Great photos of the pond and surrounding area! I especially adore the one with the tall grasses in the foreground. Beautiful!
You are so right about not rushing. Also, I get a little grumpy when I let myself by tricked by thinking it’s important to just get to the next spot as soon as possible. I extended my journey by a couple of hours because of all my stops. I don’t think two more hours of chatting with my cousin would have made a huge difference in my life since I was staying the weekend with him. But the stops to explore trails did make an impact!
Excellent planning and record of your break
Why thank you, Derrick! I do love to plan!
Re crappie/croppie. As you know Ellie’s Dad, Dillon is American, from N. Carolina. She is already enjoying wordplay and loves fooling everyone with ladder/latter
Oh that is a good one. Especially if a person has an accent that isn’t familiar, it could be fun to play with language.
She even makes up her own words