Vermejo
Adventurer
Thanks for the kind words. Sounds like your time in New Mexico was well spent.
Borderland Overland to OX11– March 30 & 31, 2011
- Thread starter Vermejo
- Start date
Thanks for the kind words. Sounds like your time in New Mexico was well spent.
Vermejo
Adventurer
Borderland Overland: Part II
If I only provided a fireside tale of friendship, endless backcountry and overlanding, I’d be leaving out what makes traveling these parts a humbling experience—the story wouldn’t be complete. Violence spurred by drug trafficking and human smuggling has left its mark on small border communities over the years. It was on the morning of March 27, 2010 that rancher Robert Krentz was shot to death while working his family's 34,000-acre cattle ranch in the San Bernardino Valley near Douglas, AZ. In Krentz’s last radio communication with his brother, he mentioned crossing paths with an illegal immigrant. After Krentz failed to meet his brother later that morning, authorities were notified and a search was launched. A rescue helicopter located Krentz slouched over his four-wheeler, with the engine still running. Nearby, his dog Blue, lay critically wounded. Investigators believe that his dog attempted to defend his owner before being shot. Ironically, locals knew Krentz as a “Good Samaritan” who often helped injured illegals and provided them water during bouts of triple digit desert heat. Although many theories exist, there are few answers as to who shot Krentz and for what reason.
Crossing into Arizona via the Geronimo Trail, our path would lead us through the San Bernardino Valley, the same area where Krentz was murdered a year earlier, almost to the day. While some would think of the Borderland as desert and dust, the landscape is unimaginably diverse. The region is comprised of grassland, forest, high vistas and deep canyons that meander from one side of the border to the other. As the late morning sun rose into the sky, our convoy sent up a cloud of dust that could be seen for miles around. The long dirt straight-aways allowed us to throttle through the flatlands. Airing down to 18PSI made the washboard road disappear. While these roads allow for a brisk pace, football sized rocks sit in the middle of the road, quietly waiting to disembowel vehicles—beware. When my GPS indicated that we were within a few hundred yards of the Mexican Border, we stopped to take in the international view.
While this may have been a common view for Kirk (Fire Axe) and I, being from Southern NM, most in the group felt like strangers in a strange land gazing into Mexico. While cameras clicked, cigarettes were being smoked and small talk was made, I noticed a Border Patrol outpost on a hillside to our north. The centerpiece of the outpost was a F550 flatbed equipped with a boom that extended into the sky. The rig was fitted with various scopes, antennas and rotating gadgets—possibly with more technology than the USSR’s early space program. While I focused my zoom to get a better perspective, I quickly realized the agents were staring right back at me through their binoculars. As one of the agents wore headphones, they were probably listing too. While I would like to fantasize the Border Patrol watched us with suspicion, we probably looked like nothing more than off-course tourists. Or sitting ducks… On the Mexican side, a bustling highway zig zagged through the San Bernardino Valley. The Mexican highway must provide an excellent drop off for those crossing into the U.S.; hence the outpost that overlooked the valley. With the day quickly warming, and a firm schedule to keep, we pressed on into Douglas to refuel.
While I may not have known Krentz, he seemed like the type of fellow that wouldn’t want his death to deter others from enjoying his little slice of heaven. If we allow those with ill intent to define the Borderland and cease its exploration, a bit more of the American Wild West will fade away.
If I only provided a fireside tale of friendship, endless backcountry and overlanding, I’d be leaving out what makes traveling these parts a humbling experience—the story wouldn’t be complete. Violence spurred by drug trafficking and human smuggling has left its mark on small border communities over the years. It was on the morning of March 27, 2010 that rancher Robert Krentz was shot to death while working his family's 34,000-acre cattle ranch in the San Bernardino Valley near Douglas, AZ. In Krentz’s last radio communication with his brother, he mentioned crossing paths with an illegal immigrant. After Krentz failed to meet his brother later that morning, authorities were notified and a search was launched. A rescue helicopter located Krentz slouched over his four-wheeler, with the engine still running. Nearby, his dog Blue, lay critically wounded. Investigators believe that his dog attempted to defend his owner before being shot. Ironically, locals knew Krentz as a “Good Samaritan” who often helped injured illegals and provided them water during bouts of triple digit desert heat. Although many theories exist, there are few answers as to who shot Krentz and for what reason.
Crossing into Arizona via the Geronimo Trail, our path would lead us through the San Bernardino Valley, the same area where Krentz was murdered a year earlier, almost to the day. While some would think of the Borderland as desert and dust, the landscape is unimaginably diverse. The region is comprised of grassland, forest, high vistas and deep canyons that meander from one side of the border to the other. As the late morning sun rose into the sky, our convoy sent up a cloud of dust that could be seen for miles around. The long dirt straight-aways allowed us to throttle through the flatlands. Airing down to 18PSI made the washboard road disappear. While these roads allow for a brisk pace, football sized rocks sit in the middle of the road, quietly waiting to disembowel vehicles—beware. When my GPS indicated that we were within a few hundred yards of the Mexican Border, we stopped to take in the international view.
While this may have been a common view for Kirk (Fire Axe) and I, being from Southern NM, most in the group felt like strangers in a strange land gazing into Mexico. While cameras clicked, cigarettes were being smoked and small talk was made, I noticed a Border Patrol outpost on a hillside to our north. The centerpiece of the outpost was a F550 flatbed equipped with a boom that extended into the sky. The rig was fitted with various scopes, antennas and rotating gadgets—possibly with more technology than the USSR’s early space program. While I focused my zoom to get a better perspective, I quickly realized the agents were staring right back at me through their binoculars. As one of the agents wore headphones, they were probably listing too. While I would like to fantasize the Border Patrol watched us with suspicion, we probably looked like nothing more than off-course tourists. Or sitting ducks… On the Mexican side, a bustling highway zig zagged through the San Bernardino Valley. The Mexican highway must provide an excellent drop off for those crossing into the U.S.; hence the outpost that overlooked the valley. With the day quickly warming, and a firm schedule to keep, we pressed on into Douglas to refuel.
While I may not have known Krentz, he seemed like the type of fellow that wouldn’t want his death to deter others from enjoying his little slice of heaven. If we allow those with ill intent to define the Borderland and cease its exploration, a bit more of the American Wild West will fade away.
Tucson T4R
Expedition Leader
Jake, Very well written. Nicely done my friend. :wings:
:lurk:
:lurk:
NorCalLC
Adventurer
Jake, very nice write up and great photos again. Your information about the murdered rancher reminds me of all the vast open areas NM has to offer, some of it, can be really dangerous though. When my father moved our family from IN in 1975, I was 5 yrs old and I spent the next 10 yrs exploreing NM with him. He wore a 357 or 44 magnum on his side everywhere we went. We also carried rifles in the trucks and I remember numerous times we came into areas with "situations" that really warranted those guns for protection.
It was always interesting to hear my father tell others, "out here you're not in the city with the police. Out here in the middle of nowhere, this 44 is the law if needed". Sometimes he would pick up hitchhikers and they would see the gun and he would say "this guns for my protection as much as yours" LOL, the looks he got.... As a kid, I always thought in ways my father was overboard. But now looking back on things, he kept me and others out of harms way and taught me many valuable life lessons/ commen sense. I also wouldn't have the desire to get out and explore as I do with out him showing me NM.
Thanks again jake for bringing back old memories. BTW, not trying to hijack your thread or start political pro gun talk. Just brought back memories......
It was always interesting to hear my father tell others, "out here you're not in the city with the police. Out here in the middle of nowhere, this 44 is the law if needed". Sometimes he would pick up hitchhikers and they would see the gun and he would say "this guns for my protection as much as yours" LOL, the looks he got.... As a kid, I always thought in ways my father was overboard. But now looking back on things, he kept me and others out of harms way and taught me many valuable life lessons/ commen sense. I also wouldn't have the desire to get out and explore as I do with out him showing me NM.
Thanks again jake for bringing back old memories. BTW, not trying to hijack your thread or start political pro gun talk. Just brought back memories......
Vermejo
Adventurer
Thanks, Brad!
Sounds like quite an experience you had growing up in New Mexico. I'm glad this story stirred some memories for you.
C'mon now...You guys are going to make me blush.
Vermejo
Adventurer
Borderland Overland: Part III
With the sun burning high above, we continued west from Douglas. Again, we met dirt and dust at Border Road in route to Naco and Coronado National Monument. Some in the group traveled with their windows up and AC blasting, while some kept the windows down the entire dust ridden 260+ miles. Although I enjoy both styles of off-road travel, the guys with the “left arm tan” seem to have more fun. For a brief and desolate stretch, Border Road hides in the shadow of the massive metal fence that separates the U.S. from Mexico. This “anti-ram” fence was designed to withstand a high-speed impact by a full-sized pickup truck. It was nice knowing that a drug runner wouldn’t be t-boning us from the Mexican side.
In the week prior to the Borderland Overland, 19-year-old Carlos La Madrid was shot and killed by a Border Patrol agent outside Douglas. Apparently, La Madrid was fleeing authorities, when he abandoned his truck and then tried to climb a ladder over the fence into Mexico. Border Patrol agents later found 48 pounds of marijuana in La Madrid’s truck hinting as to why he fled.
We stopped along the border fence for a token photo op; for some it was sticking their arm through the fence into Mexico, for others it was climbing the fence into…I’m just kidding—seeing if I still had your attention. My hopes of being tracked down by the Border Patrol, to provide a “full border experience” to the group, were soon fulfilled as I noticed a dust cloud on the horizon. I could make out two white trucks racing towards us, drivers and passengers bouncing around like ragdolls. When they finally arrived at the scene, the agents seemed rather disappointed at the sight of us. Rather than throwing us face first into the dirt and drawing guns; they settled for conversation.
Above Photo by Kirk Isaacson
The Border Patrol agent behind the wheel spoke with a certain ease and a country draw. He told me how the cartels had scouts on the U.S. and Mexican sides of the border to monitor movement of law enforcement, illegals, ranchers and rival smugglers. “They watch us, we watch them. They gather intelligence, we gather intelligence. Everyone is trying to keep a step ahead and outsmart the other side. That’s how the game is played.” Midway through our conversation, the ground began to rumble. Within seconds a Border Patrol helicopter thundered overhead in a spectacular show. Rather than screaming with glee like little girls, we managed to keep our composure. We’d rehash the story in vivid detail around the campfire at least a half-dozen times before the trip was over—each time the tale would grow a bit longer. The agent gave me his cell number and a nod to report any suspicious activity we may see down the road and we parted ways. Were we now part of the game too? I’d like to think so…
With the sun burning high above, we continued west from Douglas. Again, we met dirt and dust at Border Road in route to Naco and Coronado National Monument. Some in the group traveled with their windows up and AC blasting, while some kept the windows down the entire dust ridden 260+ miles. Although I enjoy both styles of off-road travel, the guys with the “left arm tan” seem to have more fun. For a brief and desolate stretch, Border Road hides in the shadow of the massive metal fence that separates the U.S. from Mexico. This “anti-ram” fence was designed to withstand a high-speed impact by a full-sized pickup truck. It was nice knowing that a drug runner wouldn’t be t-boning us from the Mexican side.
In the week prior to the Borderland Overland, 19-year-old Carlos La Madrid was shot and killed by a Border Patrol agent outside Douglas. Apparently, La Madrid was fleeing authorities, when he abandoned his truck and then tried to climb a ladder over the fence into Mexico. Border Patrol agents later found 48 pounds of marijuana in La Madrid’s truck hinting as to why he fled.
We stopped along the border fence for a token photo op; for some it was sticking their arm through the fence into Mexico, for others it was climbing the fence into…I’m just kidding—seeing if I still had your attention. My hopes of being tracked down by the Border Patrol, to provide a “full border experience” to the group, were soon fulfilled as I noticed a dust cloud on the horizon. I could make out two white trucks racing towards us, drivers and passengers bouncing around like ragdolls. When they finally arrived at the scene, the agents seemed rather disappointed at the sight of us. Rather than throwing us face first into the dirt and drawing guns; they settled for conversation.
Above Photo by Kirk Isaacson
The Border Patrol agent behind the wheel spoke with a certain ease and a country draw. He told me how the cartels had scouts on the U.S. and Mexican sides of the border to monitor movement of law enforcement, illegals, ranchers and rival smugglers. “They watch us, we watch them. They gather intelligence, we gather intelligence. Everyone is trying to keep a step ahead and outsmart the other side. That’s how the game is played.” Midway through our conversation, the ground began to rumble. Within seconds a Border Patrol helicopter thundered overhead in a spectacular show. Rather than screaming with glee like little girls, we managed to keep our composure. We’d rehash the story in vivid detail around the campfire at least a half-dozen times before the trip was over—each time the tale would grow a bit longer. The agent gave me his cell number and a nod to report any suspicious activity we may see down the road and we parted ways. Were we now part of the game too? I’d like to think so…
Vermejo
Adventurer
Borderland Overland: Part IV
After a lunch break at the Coronado National Monument and a winding accent up Montezuma Pass Road, a few of us hiked to the summit of Coronado Peak. The panoramic view from the top is nothing short of stunning. To the east: New Mexico, the San Bernardino Valley and San Pedro River Valley—part of the route Francisco Vásquez de Coronado traveled in 1540. To the south: Sonora, Mexico, the Cerro Colorado and the massive Cananea Copper Mine. To the west: La Bola, San Rafael Ranch ant the Patagonia Mountains. After soaking in the grand view, the convoy continued on to our final stop of the day—camp at Parker Canyon Lake.
Blackhawk circles above Coronado National Monument
Border Patrol F-550 flatbed and F-250 4WD conversion van at Montezuma Pass
After a lunch break at the Coronado National Monument and a winding accent up Montezuma Pass Road, a few of us hiked to the summit of Coronado Peak. The panoramic view from the top is nothing short of stunning. To the east: New Mexico, the San Bernardino Valley and San Pedro River Valley—part of the route Francisco Vásquez de Coronado traveled in 1540. To the south: Sonora, Mexico, the Cerro Colorado and the massive Cananea Copper Mine. To the west: La Bola, San Rafael Ranch ant the Patagonia Mountains. After soaking in the grand view, the convoy continued on to our final stop of the day—camp at Parker Canyon Lake.
Blackhawk circles above Coronado National Monument
Border Patrol F-550 flatbed and F-250 4WD conversion van at Montezuma Pass
Vermejo
Adventurer
Borderland Overland: Part V
Dusty and tired, we made camp at Parker Canyon Lake. There we met up with Brad (4Runner) and Ace (FJ Cruiser); they were lounging with beer in hand when we arrived. That evening we gathered around John’s Syncro and told the stories of that day like we had gone to the edge of the earth. In our minds we had, we had crammed more adventure into one day than most do in 1,000 miles. It was funny to think that a day earlier we were all strangers—we were now laughing and insulting each other like best of friends. As beers were sipped and the tales got taller, the sun faded away and the starry sky emerged. And with that, an epic day came to a close.
Dusty and tired, we made camp at Parker Canyon Lake. There we met up with Brad (4Runner) and Ace (FJ Cruiser); they were lounging with beer in hand when we arrived. That evening we gathered around John’s Syncro and told the stories of that day like we had gone to the edge of the earth. In our minds we had, we had crammed more adventure into one day than most do in 1,000 miles. It was funny to think that a day earlier we were all strangers—we were now laughing and insulting each other like best of friends. As beers were sipped and the tales got taller, the sun faded away and the starry sky emerged. And with that, an epic day came to a close.
Vermejo
Adventurer
Borderland Overland: Part VI (Final)
Awakening to a Southern Arizona sunrise was inspiration enough for me to get out the grill and make a southwest scramble style breakfast. Sautéed sausage, onion, and potatoes with egg; all laid out on a tortilla with hummus, green chile salsa and avocado. Others looked on with envy while they ate lukewarm oatmeal and Cliff bars. (Hey, I offered to share!)
After breakfast and packing camp, we made our way through the Santa Cruz River Valley to Lochiel and The Monument to Fray Marcos de Niza. The Monument to Fray Marcos de Niza features a massive concrete cross that pays tribute to the named friar that accompanied Francisco Vásquez de Coronado during his expedition into the area. From the monument, we made our way north through the winding roads of the Patagonia Mountains and Santa Rita Mountains. Bull Springs Road, the final leg of our adventure, was highlighted by sharp switchbacks and narrow shelf roads that got the attention of the guys pulling trailers. After descending the Santa Rita Mountains into Amado, we arrived at the Overland Expo. The Borderland Overland was complete; we all made it without serious injury, breakdown or arrest—a success by our standards.
It was a bit surreal seeing such a large display of overland vendors, vehicles and people at the Overland Expo after motoring through the desert for two days. As our convoy crept past rows of groomed overland vehicles and equipment, I couldn’t help but think we looked uncivilized as our trucks were filthy and faces a bit haggard. Our unflattering entrance was fitting as we were a “motley crew”.
After breakfast and packing camp, we made our way through the Santa Cruz River Valley to Lochiel and The Monument to Fray Marcos de Niza. The Monument to Fray Marcos de Niza features a massive concrete cross that pays tribute to the named friar that accompanied Francisco Vásquez de Coronado during his expedition into the area. From the monument, we made our way north through the winding roads of the Patagonia Mountains and Santa Rita Mountains. Bull Springs Road, the final leg of our adventure, was highlighted by sharp switchbacks and narrow shelf roads that got the attention of the guys pulling trailers. After descending the Santa Rita Mountains into Amado, we arrived at the Overland Expo. The Borderland Overland was complete; we all made it without serious injury, breakdown or arrest—a success by our standards.
It was a bit surreal seeing such a large display of overland vendors, vehicles and people at the Overland Expo after motoring through the desert for two days. As our convoy crept past rows of groomed overland vehicles and equipment, I couldn’t help but think we looked uncivilized as our trucks were filthy and faces a bit haggard. Our unflattering entrance was fitting as we were a “motley crew”.
Every Miles A Memory
Expedition Leader
I was just starting to pack up the camper!! Jake, you got some free space in the yard?
Tucson T4R
Expedition Leader
Jake, Thanks for posting the last leg of the motley crew's journey. Nice images and memories. :wings:
Probably the last shot of my trusty 'ol KK behind my 4Runner since the new owners drove away with it last weekend. :sombrero:
Probably the last shot of my trusty 'ol KK behind my 4Runner since the new owners drove away with it last weekend. :sombrero:
Adventure Jeep
Adventurer
Great write up, pictures and interesting info. Living in Arizona this is one of the trips on my list.
We'll do it soon, thanks for the motivation.
We'll do it soon, thanks for the motivation.
Tucson T4R
Expedition Leader
By the way. You have a shot of the radar blimp tethered near Sierra Vista. That blimp broke the tether a week or so ago and ended up crashing in a Sierra Vista residential neighborhood. :Wow1:
That got a few peoples' attention. :sombrero:
That got a few peoples' attention. :sombrero: