Whenever I have to drive AZ 75 to Duncan from Clifton, or vice versa, I have to pass the Apache Grove Bar. I’m not sure why the bar is named this. Maybe the bar is located in a geographical area named by the locals as Apache Grove. I also noticed that there was a small run down and abandoned rodeo arena right next to the bar.
I was able to identify it by the large speakers attached to the top of a telephone pole and an elevated wooden, announcer’s booth. There were no chutes inside the arena like the ones used in bull or bronc riding. So I knew it wasn’t the same rodeo set-up like the one right next door to the Longhorn Steak House and Bar in Elfrida. Perhaps it was used for barrel racing?
I climbed through the aging, wooden boards of the fence and carefully walked through the tall weeds of the arena to the announcer’s booth. Some very weathered wooden stairs lead up to the door less announcer’s booth. There appeared to be possible a table and chair from where I stood. The only way I would know for sure was to take my chances with the steps. I was determined to place the cowboy and indian art piece #121 up in that booth.
Very slowly, I put one foot in front of another on each step not knowing if they were in any shape to hold my weight. Soon, I would find out. I mentally psyched myself up to assume that one of the seven steps was going to give out. I figured out the best way to fall or retrieve myself if a step was going to splinter apart underneath me. The attached handrail was already partially broken off.
I made it into the announcer’s booth! Each step creaked loudly when I stepped on it. But I made it. I made it.
In the booth was an equally old table and chair. On the table were two rusty horse shoes. If only those horse shoes could talk! I placed, photographed and documented #121 next to the horse shoes on the table. I took the horse shoes as a souvenir and made my way back down the steps without an event. I headed over the bar. Not to get a drink mind you after all of that. The lonely, prefab dull green steel building was calling my name to explore and place another cowboy and indian art piece. There was only one pick-up truck parked along the far side of the bar. It was light gray and a late model. It probably belonged to the owner.
While walking over to the bar an abandoned, old, white, three door, two tiered commercial freezer immediately drew me to it. There were no shelves in it but I was able to find a niche by the cooling unit where I could place, photograph and document art piece #123. In a matter of minutes, I would be finished and back on AZ 75.
Just as I was finished photographing the art piece placement, a Greenlee county pick-up truck drove up and parked behind me. A six foot plus dark haired guy with a big white smile in his early 30’s got out of the cab of the truck and asked me if I was OK and if I needed any help. I smiled back at him and informed him that I was just taking photos of this discarded old refrigerator/freezer. I went on to say that I was an artist and was interested in photographing objects that caught my interest. He replied, “As long as you’re all right.”
Before he got back into his truck, he went on to say that refrigeration unit was probably from the 50’s or 60’s. I thanked him for the info and his concern. He drove away. I got back into my SUV and drove away myself – satisfied and still in one piece. Amen!
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