Chino City Limits, Continued...

The summit on CCC Canyon trail

After Spending half the day exploring Kings Canyon, Gold Basin, and a few other relics in my last ride report, I headed back to Perkinsville road, and then turned onto 318A, or Narrow gauge road, as some maps call it.

A brief history lesson is needed here…
This is the old roadbed for the United Verde and Pacific narrow-gauge railroad that was built into Jerome, AZ, chartered in 1894 and lasting until 1920. It started in a place called Jerome junction…renamed Chino valley in the early 1900’s. One of the wealthy Jerome mine owners built with his own finances after failing to coerce what is now the BNSF into building a route. It runs through the broad, mostly flat grass-land that encompasses the area between modern day Highway 89, highway 89a, and the base of Minus and Wood Chute mountains, taking a gentle rise to a low point, then winding its way back to the north across the mountains to Jerome.
Some had called it the one of “crookedest” railroads in the west, although in truth, it wasn’t even the “crookedest” in Yavapai County. The Santa Fe eventually realized the profits to be made in Jerome, and finally built its own standard-gauge line starting from Drake, AZ, several miles north, winding its way across the desert to the Verde river, and following it to Clarkdale…just below Jerome, with an extension eventually built up to the mines therein. At this point, the U, V & P became redundant, and was abandoned. The left over roadbed became the “back way to Jerome”, and is very popular with off-roaders today, even though most of it can be drive with a passenger car in dry weather. The newer Santa Fe route survives as the Verde Canyon Railroad, though freight is still hauled to Drake and transferred to BNSF at least weekly.

Road 318A is raised a few feet above the surrounding desert, and gives good views of this flat, and largely empty (in the immediate area) valley. Near a low point in Wood chute Mountain, the road turns north in-route to Jerome, AZ…and shortly after that, a large sub-station is passed. Here a turn is made on what maps call FS9007V, but most people know this area as Martin Canyon…or more likely, Smiley Rock trail.

Top: The rock garden on Smiley Rock.
Bottom: The source for the name.  Both taken from old red a few years ago.

Smiley Rock is quite popular among the local jeepers, and has appeared in major publications such as the now-defunct 4-WheelDrive & Sport Utility magazine. I have done it both on a quad, and last summer in my Pioneer when a group of Phoenix RZR’s ask me to show them the quick way back to highway 89A. It is essentially a trail through a dry creek bed in tree lined canyon. It is very rocky, and the last bit heading up the canyon is a pure rock-garden, though well within the capabilities of a 4x4 ATV or SxS who doesn’t mind scraping skid plates. Personally, it don’t feel it goes anywhere all that interesting, so I don’t tend to run it unless there is a good reason to do so. The main trail from the sub-station actually tee’s into Smiley Rock trail, and it’s the other direction leading away from this famous trail that I am here.

But first, a quick lunch break with some delicious chicken, mayo, and mustard sandwiches, a Cosmic Brownie, and some Grape Crush, while sitting under a pine waiting for any other trail travelers on this day…but none appear.

Soon I head south towards an area Called Coyote springs, with ever expanding homes…but at this point, they still haven’t encroached too much into the wilderness at the base of Woodchute Mountain. I have been out this trail only once, and it left more questions than answers…

Pretty soon I am to the point where I previously turned around at an intersection, and take one of the branches to the east, up Woodchute Mountain. Pretty soon this trail turns steep and rocky, with switchbacks…until the final switchback and apparent end of the trail, with no good place to turn the Pioneer around. After several tense moments, I manage to get pointed back down hill and work my way back to the bottom of the canyon. Post ride looks at topo maps show that the trail did, at one time, go to the top, but it will take something smaller than a SxS to do it now.

Back at the bottom, I check out a small side trail and I'm completely surprised to find the collapsed ruins of an old homestead and out building. Seems there was a nice living here for someone in the past, but it has mostly faded now.

After snapping some pics, I head back to the intersection and take the west branch, and find myself on the powerline service trail. I already know this is gated and locked at highway 89A…no doubt to appease the few houses perched on the hills nearby. Too bad, as one could conceivably ride it to 89A, then hit other trails a few hundred yards away, and get all the way into the Cherry area purely by trail…BUT…

I run it for a bit, but decide to turn back and head for the old railroad bed again. On the way, something catches my eye on the hillside, and I take the appropriate trails to get to what appears to be an old charcoal kiln. I can find no real info on it except for a Jeep message board post talking about it and my switch-back trail ( I also learn that there is a running spring near the old house, but I have yet to find it ).

After snapping some pics, it’s back on the trail. During my lunch break, I was looking over my topo app and noticed that one of the side-trails I had passed coming in was labeled “CCC canyon”, and I decided to take this in fading light. It wound its way up a canyon to a man-made wildlife tank that the Government has built in several locations, and then became very rocky while winding its way up a steep ridge…and ultimately to a high vista. Sadly, the light was all but gone, and the smart-phone that has replaced my regular camera on such outings shows its limits in low light, but I did manage a few.

So I just sit here as the sun sets, and the lights of Chino Valley, Prescott, and Prescott Valley begin to twinkle off in the distance.  And the cool air of probably 6000+ feet of elevation starts to settle in…

Shortly thereafter, someone in one of the aforementioned towns probably looked out the window and saw two strange lights bouncing down the side of Woodchute Mountain, and disappearing behind a foothill…near the old railroad grade. Probably being talked of on AM radio as I type this…

At this point, I know it’s time to head for home through the desert night, until the lights of Chino Town limits break it up. As I stop at McDonalds, I reflect back on this ride…and could never have imagined what lay just outside of town.