The whole thing started out as a spur-of-the-moment deer hunt. We had been working and I told Dad I would like to hunt deer up in the Sierra Ancha's. Dad said, "Why not?" and we started tossing things into the truck. We figured we would go light, the weather being warm. We would just sleep in the back of the pickup bed.

Dad started putting in some tools, a little hay wire, some rolls of plastic, this and that. His motto is "You never know what you might need" so he tries to take a little of everything.
We were on the road in about an hour. The 90+ mile drive up into the mountains of central Arizona was through some pretty (as well as pretty rough) country. The last five miles was straight up the side of Aztec Peak. The road back then was really only a mule trail. The area is isolated and as far from civilization as you can get and still be in Arizona. Where we headed was to a spot known as Peterson Meadows. This was the ranch of the Peterson clan who settled here after the late unpleasantness between the North and South. Unfortunately, it was not the last unpleasantness, for in the 1940's the Federal government pre-empted all the land and ran the ranchers off of it. Even though they had been there over 80 or 90 years. Now it is all Federal "Experimental Forest" and I understand you cannot even get into it these days.

We made our way into the Peterson Meadows. At that time there were still two structures standing, one of the barns and the blacksmith shop. The apple orchard planted so many years ago still bore fruit, albeit a bit stunted. The meadows had been taken over by gophers, but it was still a pretty area. Laying at about 7500 feet elevation and with a creek running nearby, it was a favorite camping spot for us. Being in the middle of the most dense population of Black Bear in the state did not hinder us either. This is where we wanted to camp during Bear Season!
We parked the truck near the old blacksmith shop. It was a small building, perhaps 10' by 12', made of pine logs and with a shake roof. It had been built in the 1880's and looked like it. The door was long gone as were the windows. Locking the truck we set out to hunt before it got late.

After checking out the area, moving slow and trying to be quiet we moved off to the east. We saw several does over the next hour but no bucks. Coming into a clearing where I could look back to the North and West I noticed a funny-looking cloud coming through a gap in the mountains. I whistled at Dad and asked him what he thought it was. He said he did not like the looks of it and suggested we head back for the truck immediately. Ten minutes into hiking toward the truck it began to snow. Big huge flakes, coming down faster and heavier each moment.
By the time we reached the truck there was 4 to 5 inches of snow on the ground and it was piling up fast! The road down the mountain was too steep and rocky to try now, especially since darkness was setting in. It looked like we were here for the duration.

Dad began to round up tools from the truck. Not having a camper on it there was no way we could sleep in it. "We'll stay in the old blacksmith shop," he told me. Handing me a bow-saw he instructed me to cut firewood. Lots of it. I went off into the snow and began to cut some blow-down that was nice and dry. The snowfall just got heavier as I worked. After I had a pile cut I began hauling it back to shop. By the time I was finished the snow was over 8" deep.

In the meantime, Dad had found an old 15-gallon barrel. Using his hammer and chisel he opened up one side of it, making a little door. Then he cut a hole about 6" in diameter in the end of the barrel. Standing it on the other end made it into a nice little wood-stove. He rolled up several lengths of corrugated roofing and fastened them with haywire, thus fashioning a nice 8' piece of stovepipe. After building the wood-stove he fastened plastic up over the window openings and tightened up the little building as best he could. By this time I was hauling in the firewood and he soon had a nice warm fire going.

Once we got it all done we fixed supper and watched the snow come down. The stove was set in the doorway of the blacksmith shop, the door having been gone for more years than anyone could remember. Inside the shop we were snug and warm. Dad had put plastic on the ground, laid down cardboard and pine needles to insulate it some and put our mattress pads on top of that. We slept in comfort that night while the wind raged and howled outside. I woke up every once in awhile and added wood to the fire as it was needed. All in all it was not an uncomfortable night and I felt rested in the morning.

By morning the storm had passed leaving about 20" of fresh snow on the ground. We were up early and had a hot meal to start off the day. About an hour after daylight several hunters came by and stopped for some hot coffee. They had spent the night in a tent and had nearly had it blown away. They were cold and looked miserable.

We decided not to hunt in all that deep snow, though likely it would have been a good time to. Instead we spent the morning gathering apples from the apple trees in the orchard. I took several bushels of the home and later on my wife made some great applesauce of them. About noon we decided to try and get out and slowly worked our way down the mountain. It took several hours to go the 3 miles to the highway, but we made it OK. The main road was clear and easy driving. I did manage to get some meat on the way home. I bagged a Kaibab Squirrel with the left rear 7.50x16 mud and snow tire. I stopped, picked it up, skinned and took it home. Several days later I ate it.

Looking South from the top of Aztec Peak in the Sierra Ancha's ... the mountains in the far distance are in Mexico or on the border .. almost 140 miles. The city of Tucson lies between them and next closer range of mountains.