5571 N Teaberry Lane
Prescott Valley, AZ 86314 USA
December 19, 2020
Dear Family and Friends,
2020 has been a bad year for the whole world with the pandemic, but for Donna and I and our close family it has been an horrendous year. I’ll start by telling you about the tragic death of our darling 17 year old granddaughter Abby on November 21st – a few days before Thanksgiving Day in America Some of you have heard about this already – thank you for your condolences and cards. Here is what happened on that fateful day. The photo below was taken in June for her high school.
Abby was with friends on the Saturday evening, driving in the desert west of Phoenix. There were about four vehicles doing ‘doughnuts’ (figures of eight) in the sand/dirt which was fun but created clouds of dust. Abby’s boyfriend, Josh, suggested they leave but Abby didn’t want to break up the party. Her asthma inhaler wasn’t effective with all of the dust. When she got out of the vehicle she collapsed. Her friends tried to give her CPR and called 911 for an ambulance, but we think she was gone before the paramedics arrived. They took over the CPR and drove to the hospital but it was too late. I think the ambulance took extra time finding them as they were out in the desert at an unknown location.
We still can’t believe she is gone – a lovely girl, a smart girl, such a waste of a young life. Becky (her mother and my daughter), my son Stephen and all of the family are devastated. To read Becky’s 'epitaph' describing Abby go online to GoFundMe.com, then Search at top left, enter Abby Barnett – click on the list that says ‘Honoring Abby - Ginger Perfection’. Then scroll down and read more.
We drove down to Phoenix the next day to be with Becky and Andrew – Abby’s 15 year old brother – and other close family and friends. There wasn’t much to say – just hugs and small talk and memories. We drove down there again ten days later. Becky and some close friends had arranged an evening memorial in the nearby park for Abby’s friends and family friends – all wearing masks because of Covid. There were around 200 people there in the cold, mainly her friends wanting to say a few words to Becky and give her a hug. It was a somber occasion, but it showed the love so many people had for Abby. She was in her last year at high school, but was also attending a veterinarian college for some classes – she was going to become a vet after university. That college has organized a scholarship fund under Abby’s name, and donations are now over $20,000. All of this recognition of Abby is wonderful but she is still gone. Our many photos are a reminder.
FINANCES AND HOUSE MOVE
This year at the end of February, we had a financial disaster. A few years earlier we had invested most of our money in a real estate company at the recommendation of an advisor. That investment gave us good monthly payments for a comfortable retirement. Well, it turns out that company was a Ponzi scheme and the crooks who ran it had been caught, so our monthly payments stopped and it is unlikely we (and thousands of other investors) will get much of our money back – for us almost $200,000. I hope those crooks rot in jail – I don’t understand why they didn’t change their names and just disappear – greed or stupidity or both. Fortunately we had a good amount of equity in the new house we built at the end of 2015 in Prescott. The only solution that made sense (Becky’s suggestion) was to sell that lovely home, and use the equity to buy a smaller house with no mortgage. Our new address is at the top of this letter – from our previous location we are about seven miles to the east, in Prescott Valley.
We had no money to buy until we had closed on the old house, so everything was done in a great rush. We moved ourselves with the help of family and friends, and a borrowed trailer – except for one load of large items by a moving company.
I am a pack rat and hadn’t thrown away a lot of useless stuff, which meant many boxes stashed in the new garage when we moved in at the beginning of July. Since then we have given a lot of stuff to friends and various charities, and junked the rest. We were able to sell our travel trailer (caravan) very quickly which helped. We now have gotten Donna’s car in the garage but many boxes still remain. I have built some shelves, which helps, and I plan to build more.
The photo above shows our new house, actually a duplex (semi-detached). Our part is on the left with my Landcruiser on the driveway – the doorway of our neighbors Bob & Diane is in the shadow on the right. Our new house was built in June. It is much smaller than our previous house so little spare space especially in the kitchen cupboards and pantry. We shouldn’t complain but losing our dream home in Prescott has been hard to accept. Donna has added bird feeders and a bird bath in our small back garden where she enjoys watching the birds.
HEALTH & ACTIVITIES
We are both in our seventies so health is an issue but nothing major except Donna’s osteoarthritis, which has bent all the joints in her fingers out of shape – painful and now hard to do things she loved. I used to lead a hiking group, but no more – I have little stamina so short hikes only. I still write my bi-weekly columns for our local paper, which keeps me busy and gets me out. I think I have a few hundred readers who enjoy visiting the places I describe, mainly vicariously. Many of them are probably seniors, so dirt roads and hard hikes are not on their agenda. At the end of this letter I have included one of my recent columns, which you may find interesting. The Covid means that Donna doesn’t attend her church’s weekly service – too risky – but she does stay active with the church and attends the one remaining service remotely. We mainly stay home – I do most of the shopping.
My brother Meredith, who lives just in Wales (Chepstow) with his wife Chris, has been suffering from senility for a few years and is sadly slowly getter worse. I was planning to visit him earlier this year but Covid has made travel out of the question. I also hope that this disability doesn’t run in my genes too – he is two years older than I am.
POLITICS – USA & UK
The only good thing about this year is that Trump has been booted out, although he claims the election was rigged, without providing any evidence. Putin must love him – Trump is a winner when it comes to bad-mouthing the USA. The courts have thrown out all of his lawsuits, even the Supreme Court with his three new justices. He is a pathetic and nasty man. What is even sadder is that many of his supporters have been bamboozled by his lies – for them ‘party’ is more important than ‘country’. Trump established he was a liar and a braggart right from the start, claiming that the crowds at his inauguration were bigger then any previous president – silly, stupid stuff – he can’t keep his mouth shut! He is also a bully, and shows no loyalty to his cabinet members if they don’t support his statements 100% – he denounces them using the most extreme language. One early Secretary of State called him a moron. His pronouncements on the pandemic have made the impact of the virus even worse – demonstrating his stupidity and disregard for American lives. Masks should not be worn – they are an imposition on your freedom! His many election rallies have spread the virus, killing some of his supporters. His promotion of hydroxychloroquine and swallowing disinfectant belie his claim that he knows best, and doesn’t need experts to guide him. It is rare for a first term president to lose but Trump's narcissistic behavior has resulted in that loss. He has single handedly destroyed the Republican Party – they have lost the House of Representatives, the presidency and maybe the Senate too (depending on the upcoming senate elections in Georgia).
On politics, the UK is not doing well with their prime minister, Boris Johnson. Brexit is a big problem, and negotiations with the EU could cost Britons big bucks. Perhaps the UK may become the Un-united Kingdom if Scotland leaves, and the border between Northern Ireland and Eire cannot be resolved. It would be interesting to see the result if a new referendum could be held today.
We hope that 2021 is not another “annus horribilis”.
A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, love Nigel & Donna
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Only read what follows if you are interested in more stuff. Otherwise you are done.
Here is a copy of my newspaper article from September this year, and a related description by Stephen. They are both about the Agua Fria Canyon, cut over the millennia by the Agua Fria River. Most of this canyon is 600 feet below the rim of the mesa that it divides. There is one easy access point at Badger Springs Wash – the river flows north to south. from there. The river only flows after a wet winter, though some of the pools it leaves make progress down the canyon difficult. To say it is a challenging hike is an understatement. What makes the canyon extra interesting is the pipeline built around 1900 to supply water to a gold and silver mine on the mesa top called Richinbar, which was abandoned around 1935. Here are two photos that will help you understand the pipeline.
This photo shows the pipeline raised above a pool, placed into a horizontal man-made cut into the vertical cliff. That must have been an engineering challenge a century ago!
Here is my article: A CAUTIONARY TALE
I had finished the draft of my article about the industrial pipeline in the Agua Fria River Canyon mentioned in my last article but I needed to go back and check out some details of the pipeline – I did that on the day before the article deadline. So, instead of reading the article about the pipeline, you will have to wait another fortnight because I will be writing this cautionary tale instead. I hope this tale will help you better prepare for any hikes you choose to do.
Although I’m an experienced hiker, here are some lessons I learned or relearned. First, don’t overestimate your capabilities, especially as you age. I’ve hiked along the bottom of the canyon four times in the last decade and knew it was a very challenging hike – no trail, huge boulders polished by centuries of flowing water so slippery, rugged terrain, spiky and spiny bushes, pools of water left from the previous monsoon and winter rains, surrounded by steep cliffs. I’m in my late seventies and my stamina and agility has declined considerably in the last 12 months. The hike to the start of the pipeline used to take me a little more than 3 hours, but it took us 5 hours, which leads to another important point – don’t hike alone (my good friend and companion Larry M was about a decade younger than me). Tell a family member or a friend where you are going (leaving a map is a big help), and when you plan to be home – don’t deviate from your plan unless you can inform others. Take items that will keep you safe: plenty of water, a whistle in case you have to call for help (a whistle can carry sound a greater distance and doesn’t make you hoarse), a cell phone, leather gloves if rocky terrain, a flashlight, a GPS unit so you can tell rescuers your exact location. A cell phone is of limited use in a canyon but be aware that cell phones lose their charge much more quickly when you are continually going in and out of a service area (turn it off or put it into ‘airline’ mode).
Unbeknown to us, his wife had called 911 by then after talking with my wife – so the rescue operation was being organized from the Badger Springs Trailhead (TH) where many of our family members had also gathered. (You can imagine the anguish our wives and family were suffering.) The mesa top was quite rough with ravines so slow going for Larry who was pretty exhausted by then. He was spotted about 1/3 of the way across so could be helped back to the TH by the rescuers. I was alone, down below in the deepening gloom.
My son Stephen had come to the TH to help find me, so with the focus on rescuing Larry, Stephen decided to hike down the Canyon to the pipeline, after which he continued on to an impassable deep pool – he is very fit. He had never been in this canyon before. This was all in the dark, though a half moon gave some light. Well he eventually found me around 1am with the help of my whistle – grit, determination and love saved the day! He texted his GPS location to Becky at the TH, his liaison with the outside world. This info helped the rescue helicopter locate us. The paramedic pilots climbed down and the three of them helped me up the steep rocks to the helicopter – so a good ending for us both. Contact me if you want more details of the interesting rescue.
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Now read Stephen’s description of the rescue that he put on Facebook – a different perspective from mine.
I had an experience last night… it’s a long read about my Dad vanishing into the desert, but I thought I would share.
About 8:30 PM I got a message that my Dad had gone out hiking with a friend and was yet to return. They left about 8:00AM that morning and were expected back by noon. Last text received was from his hiking partner at about 3:00 PM and nothing since. They were already 8 hours overdue.
I quickly loaded up my truck and pack with what I thought I might need. My plan was to head out to where their car was parked and see if I could help the deputies and others with search and rescue operations. Upon arrival at the Badger Springs Trailhead I checked in with the officer on duty to get an update.
My Dad’s hiking partner had been found about ½ mile from the parking lot. He was completely exhausted and beaten up. A second deputy was with him and would occasionally shine a light just to let their location be known. My dad unfortunately was not with him. Search and Rescue volunteers were on their way but nobody had arrived yet and no solid search plan was yet developed. I decided to throw on my pack and hike over to the second deputy and try and learn more information… despite recommendations I just stay put and let the experts take care of it.
As I trudged through the nothingness of boulders, cactus and high grass towards the random flash of light I began to realize how difficult the terrain off trail was. Navigation in pitch black is challenging to say the least. Then three feet in front of me was a coiled but sleepy rattlesnake resting amongst the grass. It twitched a few times to let me know a wide birth was requested and with that an understanding of what everyone was going to be up against this night really began to set in.
Making it to the second deputy, I could see my Dad’s hiking partner was in bad shape. Bloody nose and cheeks, torn clothing and a general spaced out demeanor. He was exhausted, dehydrated and had hurt his ankle during one of his many falls to get there. I began to probe for whatever information he was capable of sharing. How far they walked, when they left the canyon, last time he saw my father.
It was explained a pipe ran the length of the canyon and once this pipe was found I would be close to where they decided to detour. The second deputy was also against me going further to search but I explained thoroughly my route, gave him my information and scrambled back down through the darkness into the shrouded canyon below.
Once in the sand my pace increased. Jogging when possible, shouting out as often as I could. Soon the creek turned to small boulders which grew in size the further downstream I traveled. Eventually becoming bigger than couches and then cars with occasional water pockets tucked in between. Into the darkness my flashlight picked up a set of red eyes glowing back at me. Walking closer, that set became two. Keeping distance I soon realized it was a family of skunks visiting one of the ponds, so my heartbeat slowed back down a little bit.
By now the boulders were massive. Choosing the right slot or path during the day would probably have been fairly easy but the pitch black made route finding confusing and sometimes overwhelming. Finally the pipe revealed itself on the left bank and I regained confidence I was at least on the right track, despite every shout of “Dad!!” coming back unanswered.
I just couldn’t believe they had both walked this far. My Dad is almost 80 and his hike partner appeared a similar vintage. But, the apple does not fall far from the tree, and I was sure Dad wanted to explore this pipeline despite the difficulty. Eventually the canyon walls closed in and ended at a 300 yard pool of black water. They just couldn’t have gone further than this. I had been out for well over an hour with no results. The strange noises around me started to become startling. Imagined alligators and dragons began to creep from the shadows of the underbrush.
Disheartened, I decided to return the way I came, knowing I would most likely run into the Search and Rescue group I figured would also be coming up the canyon. Struggling now with heavy legs I tried my best to retrace my steps. Stones became slicker. Sand got deeper. It was then I heard a single whistle in the distance… followed quickly by another. Was it the rescuers getting closer, or my Dad trying his best to signal?
The echoes of the canyon were deceiving and even though I could tell the sound originated from back the way I came I could not determine how far. Yelling frequently now I was hopeful for a response. Then high up in the hills I heard another double set of whistles and my Dad’s faint voice. This massive relief was quickly dashed with the realization my Dad was up there somewhere without a path to follow on a hillside so steep I could not even see the top.
I began to scramble up. Kicking down rocks and sliding on scree. Cactus and cat claw were everywhere and it was obvious nobody had ever even attempted to climb out this way. I would continually yell and on about every three of four tries I would get a faint response back. I shouted for him to use his whistle, keep blowing so I could find him… but it was no good. He either could not hear me or was deep in a ravine where sound could not reach him.
Completely guessing now I began zigging and scrambling up the hillside, weaving back and forth trying to locate him by sound alone. Looking back down the creek floor had vanished. Would this route end at a cliff? Would I be able to get back down and try again if it did? My legs were starting to really fade and every plant on that hillside had been designed to tear me to pieces. The return shouts slowly began to get louder and eventually instructions could be understood.
“I am on your left!” “Too far right!” “I am in a ravine!!”
Finally… I saw him. In a boulder strewn V shaped crack. Trying to go higher but obviously worn out. I got beneath him and stabilized the hillside the best I could. He was happy to see someone but was so disorientated he didn’t even understand it was his son. I got him to sit down and a few minutes later realized who I was… and couldn’t understand how we just ran in to each other out there. It was obvious by his comments and thoughts he was really toasted.
I knew he was in bad shape. With time and patience I was able to work him over to a flat area where he could sit comfortably and start sucking down water from my Camelback. One single bar on my phone was enough to text my sister at base camp that I had found Dad and he was basically OK. I sent our GPS coordinates and took a huge breath in. He was found. He was safe. I could relax a bit.
Moments later the heavy thud of a chopper filled the canyon. The searchlight scoured the walls all around us until they located us both. A few spirals high above later they landed on the mesa. My Dad had recovered somewhat and was now more coherent. The pilots slowly worked their way down and with effort and patience we were able to get Dad the 150 yards or so up the scree field to the helicopter.
I don’t think a seat has ever felt much softer as the headphones went on, doors closed and rotors began to spin. In a cloud of dust we lifted off. Dad asked if they could turn on the spotlight so he could see the ground below and was disappointed when they declined. It was a ridiculous request of course, but a good sign that my Dad was coming back to reality. We landed at the trailhead. Dad answered some questions, was accessed by the medics and refused additional help. It was determined that he was mostly dehydrated and overall just exhausted. We loaded up in our respective vehicles and headed back to Prescott.
Here is what was learned…
Always, always have a solid “Plan B”. Have defined cut off times for return and an action plan in place if they are missed. Never diverge from the route even if the short cut seems to make sense. When you are 80, don’t hike like you are 40. If your group leader has a last name of “Reynolds” and says he knows where he is going and how long it’s going to take… don’t ever listen to him.
Oh… also… cute little nickel sized frogs jumping into dark ponds sound like the Loch Ness monster coming up from the depths until you figure out what the hell they are.
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