Apache Grove Bar and Rodeo Arena. Greenlee County, AZ August 17. 2011

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!             

                      
  

 

 

                      

                   

100 E. Soto Street. Willcox, AZ August 12, 2011

While driving in downtown Willcox, I saw a small, old gas station that was converted into a hobby shop that’s been out-of-business some time now.  The building was painted entirely white expect for a red and blue rocket ship painted vertically on the side of the building.  I placed, photographed and documented #120 on a window sill not far from where the rocket ship was painted.  An art piece alongside a rocket ship -  “the sky is the limit.”                   Ooooooooh!     
  

Tractor between Stadium and Arena Way Roads. Thatcher, AZ August 10, 2011

I placed, photographed and documented #119 on an old rusty tractor I drive by often throughout the course of a day seeing patients.

Hubbard Cemetery - Graham County, AZ August 10, 2011

When I’m driving down Safford-Bryce Road I often go by a gravel road that goes to the top of a hill.  At the top of the hill is Hubbard Cemetery.  Curiosity got the better of me so I turned on to that road to check out this cemetery.  One knows that they are out in the country when signs are used for target practice.  The sign, “Hubbard Cemetery.  Hours open 6:00am – 9:00pm.”  was riddled with bullet holes. 

I parked at the entrance and got out of my SUV.  I decided to talk a walk through the cemetery since today’s summer sun was shaded by cumulus clouds anchored in the sky.  A grave stone caught my attention.  It read, “Mosiah Lyman Reed Hancock – April 9, 1854 – January 14, 1907 – Grandfather.”   Now this was a guy who was around these them parts when the local Indian Wars were in progress.  I placed, photographed and documented #118 next to his grave stone.  So badly I wish he could somehow tell me his stories.  However, for now, rest in peace.     
  

 

445 Haskell, Willcox, AZ August 12, 2011

Up and down the main drag of the city of Willcox is occupied by handful of motels that are now out of business.  A few have been converted into low income housing.  A tiny room to live in, however, it’s at the right price for someone’s budget.  Every now and then I have to visit one of my patients in these cozy abodes that once were a refuse for couples having lurid affairs or perhaps a visitor to Rex Allen Days’ festivities.

I placed, photographed and documented #117 at was once the front door to the manager’s office.  The quaint collection of white, cement- block cottages with stucco roofs were now a home to “art.”  The new tenants consisted of one plastic cowboy and one plastic indian.  They just checked in for a bit of tourism and adventure.  “Welcome to Willcox – the home of singing cowboy Rex Allen.”                                    

Joe's Furniture Co. Truck, Duncan, AZ July 18, 2011

I usually prefer to place my cowboy and indian art pieces only on cloudy days during the middle of summer.  It’s hot enough already without the sun beating down on one’s body.  Whenever I leave my vehicle for only brief periods of time, I leave the air-conditioning running full blast.  Then I take large, portable sun shades which I prop up inside the vehicle’s windshield.

Yesterday, I bought a pair of black flip-flops encrusted with huge crystals and rhinestones to wear on my feet.  Normally, I don’t ever wear anything but cowboy boots whether it is hot outside or not.  However, when it comes to sparkle and bling, a true cowgirl can never have enough of it.  Whether it comes from Tiffany’s or the Dollar Store – we love our bling!  However, this is not the best footwear when it comes scouting a perfect location for an art piece placement.  One is never sure when they might step into a rocky space scattered with rust metal or a snoozing rattlesnake.  

Today I met with a patient in a sparse housing “subdivision” in Greenlee County.  As I drove through it, I saw a beat-up and graffiti painted old pick-up truck.  I could see large lettering on the original paint job.  This was once a truck for “Joe’s Furniture Company – Clifton/Morenci.”  It had no front grill, smashed windows, flat tires and no door in the back.  Joe’s Furniture Company is now non-existent.  I have no clue of it ever existing at least in the past 6 years.   

This appeared to be a great place to place a cowboy and indian art piece but not a great place to walk around in sparkle laden flip-flops. I placed, photographed and documented #116 on the glove compartment’s open lid inside the truck.  I finished and stepped carefully as I walked back to my car.  As I drove away, gratitude for finding such a great placement along with no injuries to my feet emitted joy from my heart.  With my pedicure and feet intact, it was good to know that nothing living was injured during the course of furthering my artistic expression - today.

                          

 

 

                      

Putt Putt Golf Course, Willcox, AZ June 5, 2011

Francesca and I crashed for a few hours at Sarah’s.  Blurry eyed, we left Sara’s as the sun was rising in order to make it back to the RocknW for feeding and A.M. chores.  Staying up last night to the wee hours of the morning reminded me of my youthful years when cousins, friends and I would dance all night long to new wave, glam and punk rock beats at bars and fetish clubs at the fringes of many a city.  Only now I’ve traded in my glam rock glimmering baubles for cowgirl rhinestones.  This girl embraces her “inner bling!”

On the way home, we drove down Haskell Avenue in Willcox.  Franscesca pointed out a seven foot clown figure in the middle of a field with high weeds on the left.  I turned the SUV around.  What was the story? 

The story was that this was an abandoned putt-putt golf course.  Besides the clown figure there were other putt-putt destinations.  The two that immediately caught my attention was a huge cowboy boot and a teepee a few feet away from that.  I placed, photographed and documented #113 in the teepee.  I stepped carefully around cow dung and did the same with #114 in the cowboy boot. 

I got back into the SUV started the motor and turned around back on to Haskell Avenue.  At this point of the morning, all Francesca and I could think about was breakfast.  We stopped at the first open restaurant in town.  We walked in, dirty cowboy boots and wearing last night’s clothing, and found ourselves a table.  After we got our coffee, we took big sips and smiled.  We reminisced over last night’s adventures and reviewed our plans for today.  Life is good.  Sometime at bit too early in the day – but good!