EXPEDITIONS: EL CAMINO DEL DIABLO The Highway of the Devil. El Camino Del Diablo earned it’s name from those traveling overland from 1540 to the early 1900s. Today, graves line areas of this socially and politically significant trail, reminding us that this historic route can still be just as treacherous for those without modern-day conveniences. Expeditioneers will be taking the route from Ajo to Yuma, Arizona in January 2008. Check back for trip reports and details on the pre-run. "Locally, it is known as El Camino Del Diablo (the Road of the Devil), and few names are more appropriate," — Capt. D.D. Gaillard, 1896. "All traces of the road are sometimes erased by the high winds sweeping the unstable soil before them, but death has strewn a continuous line of bleached bones and withered carcasses of horses and cattle, as monuments to mark the way," — Lt. N. Michler, 1855 SPONSOR AN EXPEDITION: EXPEDITIONS PRODUCT EVALUATIONS CORPORATE PARTNERS THE TEAM Before we get to the pre-run trail report, there is a huge thanks to be made for 
the help we received in documenting this trip. To Rudy Joffroy: a talented, passionate film director who gave his valuable time and experience to film and photograph much of the run. We’ll be lucky enough to work with him in the near future. We highly recommend checking out his feature-length film El Camino del Diablo, based on the Pulitzer finalist book, The Devils Highway, as it takes its international bow in the Spring of 2009. The Report: The History of el Camino del Diablo forces you to think about death and desert survival, long stretches of desolation and desperate hopes of finding water — some of which holds true today. You must bring water; there are few signs of civilization. As desolate as it is, much of the danger has gone the way of the gold miners and settlers who died making the trek. Because the trail is used heavily by border guards, you can typically count on a passing patrol in case of an emergency. Tule Well is a trip back in time for modern day travelers with its old building and Boy Scout monument. The natural water tanks at Tinajas Altas are a reminder of desperation experienced by those crossing the desert: ancient natives, Franciscan friars, Gold Rush miners, and today’s illegals — all barely reaching this location with hopes that the granite rock depressions still hold something of the last, long-ago rain shower. Just after Tinajas Altas, you can finally get into some rugged off-roading if you choose the jeep trails that cross to the west of the main range towards Yuma. After long stretches of flat, high-speed desert plains there is another faint jeep trail that will lead you back to the approximate western end of the original el Camino del Diablo. This rewards you at last with challenging navigation before bringing you to the lush green of the modern age in the form of a golf course and a paved street named “El Camino del Diablo”. 
 With dry, sunny weather, this run could be done in in any descent SUV, truck or crossover vehicle with some ground clearance. Extra water, food, spare tire and the basics would get you from Ajo to Yuma in a long, single-day trek. Taking your time and enjoying the sites could easily be done in two days with camping at Tule Well, or better yet, Tinajas Altas. In our case, however, Mother Nature dialed up the excitement by dropping the entire annual rainfall for the area over the course of 24 hours. We started our adventure by getting permits (good for one year) in Ajo at the Cabeza Prieta National Wildlife Refuge Headquarters. You can’t miss it on the main road coming into town. However, be aware that anytime you run the Camino, you must call and let them know in case of military use at the Barry Goldwater Range. You don’t want to be out and about in the great Arizona wilderness and find Air Force jets or other modern military might bearing down on you with everything from missiles to lasers. We found the start of the Camino to be full of majestic Saguaro cactus, spiny-armed Ocotillos, and wide stretches of Creosote bushes. We assumed the flat, level, smooth drive was a result of this being the frequently traveled start of the Camino, but surprisingly, the trail has a great many areas where highway vehicles could travel with ease — getting there is a different story. Truly, el Camino del Diablo trail becomes the great camino canal when it rains. It’s lower than the surrounding desert from frequent grading to keep the Border Patrol trucks from being beat to death by hours of driving in search of illegal activity. In some areas, we noticed groups of tires laying flat together attached to a steel cable. These tires were harnessed to a vehicle and used to smooth the road. This process called “dragging” allows the Border Patrol to later check for footprints that have “cut the drag”, indicating likely illegal border crossing. In our case, the only thing that would have been useful to tow behind 
us would have been a boat since the water level remained between three 
and ten inches, all flowing toward the San Cristobal Wash of which we had 
been warned. Upon reaching the San Cristobal, Jean Pierre, in our lead vehicle, elected to walk the knee-high running water to check if progress was possible. He 
radioed a “go,” so we took turns playing leap-frog from high-ground to high-ground through the curving path of overgrown foliage that gave the night 
an Amazonian feel. After one bumper-depth immersion toward the end, we 
found ourselves beyond the grip of the San Cristobal and on our way to Papago Well Campground. A strong wind made setting-up camp less than enjoyable but we were finally able to eat dinner in a semi-dry shelter and get ready for well-earned sleep. Mother Nature gave us a brief reprieve late in the evening from the wind and rain as the clouds broke and revealed a majestic sky of stars and moonlight. The next morning we awoke to visits from Border Patrols asking about any night-time visitors of the two-legged variety, of which there were none. We were visited later by a Homeland Security helicopter that landed on the edge of our camp. Three flight-suited officials walking toward our camp, helmets in one hand and firearm in the other made for a tense morning. However, as it turned out, we were not sought for some special black-ops mission, but instead we were asked to keep our eyes open for a vehicle that never made it out of the preserve the night before. As an amateur radio operator, Lance was offered the communication frequencies they were using so he could make contact should we locate the poor souls. Next on the horizon was Camp Grip. This Border Patrol outpost is impressive in the compactness of its presence and by the strangeness of a helipad, tanker trucks, huge generator, and a communications tower in the middle of absolutely nowhere. We had friendly conversation with the agents resting inside between shifts, and we were able to catch a glimpse of how difficult it is for so few men to patrol so much land --- land that can kill a person and hide the body without any serious effort. While this area is full of strong desert life as far as the eye can see, it can drain a human of any moisture and dry their hopes of passage during the summer months. Winter allows no more safety in that the heat is replaced with a frigid wind and infrequent rain that the desert whisks away into rushing deadly washes, and the ground and plant roots claim any remainder. This group of officers aren’t just policing the border — they’re saving lives. At Camp Grip, we were told that the Playas (silt pits) would be too muddy to cross, but as adventurers that know no limits until we find them ourselves, we pushed on. It was true that the mud was over a foot deep, slick and going on for long stretches, but we prevailed and crossed into the Picante Lava Flows. This dark crust of a scab where earth’s fire left its mark is a strong contrast with the vibrant plant life of the Playas that you want to turn around and ensure these areas are next to each other. Tule Well was our next place of interest and a good stop for lunch. As we spent time at the small cabin on site, we left our comments in the logbook and our footprints on the path up to the Boy Scout monument that shows the dedication the groups put forth into forming the Cabeza Prieta Refuge. Plaques ranging from the 1940’s to recent times are reminders of what can be done by private groups to protect what we all hold dear. The call of Tinajas Altas with it’s historic importance as a watering hole was a welcome reward for braving the swollen wash and mudpits up to that point. It was an ideal setting for camping a second evening with a climate to match. A short hike to the bottom tank and a much more strenuous hike to the higher tank would reward the lucky traveler with sweet, life-saving water. The unlucky traveler, on the other hand, would more than likely die before making the rest of the trek to the next available water, which may be as far as Yuma. After breaking camp in the morning, we moved on and found a new opportunity to use our highly capable vehicles. There are optional trails that lead between the mountain ranges that give the sense of exploration and solitude that Father Kino or 1849 California-bound Gold Rush seekers could have experienced. It’s a tight run between the peaks that weave through wash and rise. After an hour or so, you break though and once again are bound to the flat, smooth drive that is today’s el Camino del Diablo. Making our way toward Yuma, we repeatedly passed military range signs reminding you not to make a target of yourself by leaving the trail. The only other item of interest you will pass in this area reminds again that this desert kills. Next to a small, granite outcropping, there is a steel tower that rises with an antenna and blue flashing lights to call the desperate, injured or dying. A sign reads in English and Spanish “YOU CANNOT WALK TO SAFETY FROM THIS POINT! YOU ARE IN DANGER OF DYING.” On the sign, the black painted figure stoops and reaches for a red button, begging a lost wanderer to do the same with the knowledge that “the Border Patrol will arrive within one hour”. It was an act of extreme self-discipline on our part not to test this timeframe by pushing the button. As we closed in on the end of el Camino del Diablo, the reality of the modern age reared its head as we noticed fast approaching residential homes accompanied with a golf course. Nothing catches a golfer’s attention like the sight of three, mud caked, fully decked-out and gear encrusted 4x4’s breaking out of 
a ditch and over the highway to rest in the gravel just on the other side of the 
9th hole. We found the trail has not been forgotten by modern desert dwellers in that a hundred yards to the west of the trail exit was a street named El Camino del Diablo lined appropriately with stucco-clad homes and southwestern-decorated, snowbird RV’s — a stark contrast to the experiences we had the last few days. And so from Ajo and its mining history to Yuma with its winter visitors, we traveled el Camino del Diablo. Unscathed and with our tales to tell.

— cheers JP, Lance & Todd PRE-RUN: TRAIL REPORT EQUIPMENT