Our first launch ramp was at Burnt Corral on Apache Lake. We barely wet the wheels to get the Bayliner afloat, and when we reloaded and hauled it, there was not a bit of wheel slip as we pulled out. Launching there eliminates 10 or more miles of winding, dusty road, but the ramp is only four miles from the resort, marina and restaurant at waterway’s center.
We beached our boat on a sandy spot near Apache Lake Resort and Marina and hiked up the hill for iced tea and burgers. Inside the restaurant, historic photos of the area were numbered, and the waitress offered a leaflet of the captions.
“So, Fish Creek Hill.” I dropped the name as she finished jotting our order. “Can I make it up the hill?”
“I used to pull a smaller boat up and down it. If you skid, it can rock your axle toward the guardrail.”
I’d seen the guardrail on another trip. It wasn’t much to depend on. In fact, parts of it were missing, and broken car parts lay below.
“Coming down, you have another problem,” she continued. “Tourists are afraid to stop and wait by the rail and don’t know what to do. I’ve had to stop, park up against the bluff and guide them around my rig.”
It was 3 o’clock by then. We’d shot five or six hours of tape and, though we couldn’t film or photograph on Fish Creek Hill in the Mesa District, we couldn’t be told not to drive it.
It was an hour to Queen Creek if we finished the trail through Tortilla Flats. There we’d find an Old West saloon, complete with saddles for bar stools. I’d promised my crew a beer in a frozen Mason jar there, and the schedule wouldn’t permit going around.
We did meet one car coming down Fish Creek and stopped while he pulled to a wide spot inside. The gradual torque of the diesel and the smooth transmission gave us secure footing as we pressed on by.
Ten minutes later the beer at Tortilla Flats looked good. Me, I was the designated driver with a daughter and grandson on board. The iced tea went down pretty smoothly.