Fisherman's Point

 “My Bonnie went over the ocean, My Bonnie went over the sea, My Bonnie went over the ocean, Oh bring back my bonnie to me.  Bring back, bring back, oh bring back my Bonnie to me, to me.  Bring back, bring, back, oh bring back my Bonnie to me.”

The music bounced around the car just like us kids as we sang our way to the cabin.  It was one of our favorite songs, until dad changed the words and sang,

“Last night as I lay on my pillow, Last night as I lay on my bed, I stuck my feet out of the window, In the morning my neighbors were dead.   Bring back, bring, back oh bring back my neighbors to me, to me.  Bring back, bring back, oh bring back my neighbors to me.”

We laughed and laughed and thought we had the cleverest dad in the world!

We were on our way to the cabin, and we were having so much fun.  We had already passed Payson and Christopher Creek, and soon we were at the turn off to the cabin.

 Now we were really excited as we bounced along the dusty road.  We sang at the top of our voices, and watched for deer, rabbits, and squirrels under the tall ponderosas on either side of us.  There was a tiny fenced in graveyard on the left side of the road, with three or four headstones, and sometimes plastic flowers someone had left on the graves.  On the hill above we could see an old log cabin through the trees. 

Pretty soon we reached the turn where Chamberlain trail took off to the right.  Now the road was really bumpy and we had to drive slow.  We sang and laughed and watched out the windows as the truck slowly climbed the mountain until we reached the top, and the clearing called Turkey Peak.  Once in a while we would actually see flocks of turkeys in the clearing on the left, but usually we just saw lush pines and fir trees, dark green and cool looking.  Then down the other side of the hill we went, as we sang The Bear Went Over the Mountain, and laughed and pointed at squirrels or the first clumps of Indian paintbrush growing by the side of the road. 

We were in high spirits by the time we got to Fisherman’s point.  There was a small camp ground where the mountain jutted out over a deep valley.  The Forest Service took care of the little camp ground, and they left a garbage can there.  Once we saw two little bear cubs trying to get into the garbage can, but dad wouldn't stop for us to play with them.  "Those cubs have a mama bear somewhere close," he warned us, "and if she thinks we are trying to hurt her babies she will come running!"

Way down, below Fisherman's Point, Haigler Creek flowed through hidden pools and deep fishing holes, tempting adventurous hikers to come and explore.  The point itself ended in huge boulders and rocks, with pine trees growing right out to the edge.  Keith named it ‘Lover’s Leap,’ and it seemed a good name. 

At Fisherman’s Point the road made a 90 degree turn.  Here the singing always stopped, and we held our breath.  The road was cut right out of the mountain, and it hugged the cliff, barely wide enough for one car to pass.  On the left the mountain fell steeply away, thousands of feet down into a deep gorge.  No trees grew along the side of the cliff, there was just open space all the way across till a mountain on the other side of the gorge rose up steep and tall with a big rock slide glaring whitely in the shining sun. 

Mom closed her eyes and clutched the door handle as we drove past fisherman’s point.  Her face turned white, and she didn’t even breath.  Dad, on the other hand, reveled in the beauty of the scene.  When he craned his neck far out his window he could see deep down into the bottom of the gorge and catch a glimpse of Haigler creek shining in the sun.  Usually it looked cool and sparkling clear, but if there had been recent rains it would be muddy brown.

Mom never drove the car or truck to the cabin, probably because she didn’t want to drive over Fisherman’s point.  When she heard that Aunt Cleo had driven over that road by herself once, mom was so amazed she never forgot it.  Aunt Cleo must have been amazed too, because she never did it again.

Once we got past Fisherman’s point the rest of the trip usually only took a few minutes.  Soon we were rounding the bend and dropping down to the crossing, where the truck bounced over rocks in the creek, splashing water high on both side.  We would hold our hands out the open windows, but barely feel the splashes.  Then it was up and out of the creek, around the corner, and soon we would see the gnarled old alligator juniper that looked like a face.  We called it Mad Madam Mim after we saw the movie The Sword in the Stone.  Then we passed the camp ground above the log crossing, dropped down to drive next to the creek for a little bit, turned a corner, and we were there!  Grandpa Russell’s and Uncle Tillis’ cabins stood peacefully in the meadow.  ‘El Rosel’ on the sign told us we were home, and we drove up the hill and turned in the gate to our cabin!