Chapter 15

Dammit, I was unemployed, again. Madam Anna and her stable were so nice to me that I stayed physically worn out. Sex with one or more women every night just kept me exhausted. I was going to have to escape the velvet prison I was in or else acquire a new cock, because I felt like they were wearing out my old one!

You'd think that a whore wouldn't want more sex, but there was a difference. That was business, but I was fun! They almost never came with their customers, though Madam Anna's business was based on the women always acting like they did. On the other hand, they never had to fake with me; I always held off until the woman had come at least once, and I tried to go for two or three times to make it worth the effort. That's why they didn't want to let me go, but I just had to have a vacation. When spring came, I was packed and ready to leave, though I did promise to return.

I had no particular destination in sight, but I thought that I would head for California, just for the novelty. I pulled out of Santa Fe one fine spring morning and headed west, following the road to Albuquerque. As usual, I was in no hurry, so it took me four days to get there. I spent two days in Albuquerque, but that was long enough to see all of the sights I was interested in, and I certainly was not yet looking for female company!

It took me three weeks to get to Gallup, and I was a mite tired of traveling, already, but I wanted to keep going while I still had good weather to work with. I could see rain almost every day somewhere off in the high mountains, but I still had very little rain down in the lower country where I was. Whenever it did rain, it was usually a gully-washer, so I had to be on the watch for flash floods. Every once in a while, I would come across a busted wagon where the folks had not been cautious enough, and that was all the reminder that I needed to keep alert.

One time, I came across a family with a broken wagon wheel. Their problem arose from the fact that they had the accident while they were crossing an arroyo. I stopped to help the man and his two young sons fix the damage just as it started to rain. They were going to stop work to wait out the rain, but I convinced them to continue to work to get out of the arroyo before disaster struck.

We got the wheel replaced and the wagon out of the arroyo a few minutes before a wall of water about four feet high came sweeping down the ditch. That would have been bad enough, but a large tree trunk was floating on top of the flood, and impact by that would have destroyed the wagon and likely killed one or more of the family members. They thanked me again and we parted company an hour or so later when the rain stopped, and the wife had fixed a nice lunch for all of us.

By now, I had crossed into Arizona, but there was no sign to mark the transition, though I can't imagine what real difference it would have made. I was now traveling almost exclusively in what, out of ignorance, I would have called a pine forest. The ground was rugged, so I was forced to stick to the trail to save wear and tear on my horse. I didn't make good time toward Flagstaff because I was enjoying the scenery on the one hand and watching for ambush by road agents on the other.

I had already met one bandit shortly after I entered the thickest part of the forest. The damn fool must have been new at the business, because he came out of the trees in front of me instead of behind me. He had a bandanna over his face and his gun drawn as he stepped out, so I immediately recognized what I was facing. He had no time to say anything before I drew my pistol and shot him in the chest. His pistol was not even cocked!

I did stop and search his body for valuables worth taking. He did have a few dollars which I took. I also took his watch, gun, and knife, but I left the rest for the next traveler who came along. Also, I figured his body would make a good warning sign in case somebody behind me was not as wary. I did find his horse and led that into the next town where I sold it for a nice price, along with the tack. My knowledge of trick shooting had paid off again.

I was pretty tired by the time I got to Flagstaff, so I spent three days there, but I found it less attractive even than Gallup, so I left as soon as I was rested. One of the saloons I had visited had a particularly garrulous bartender who told me about a grand sight to the northwest. He said that there was a vast canyon there which was well worth seeing. The problem was that I would have to cross some rugged country to get there, and I would probably have to double back and head way south to Yuma to cross the river.

He also warned me about the desert between the river and the habitable coast of California. Well, I took most of what he said with a grain of salt, but he did convince me to journey to this fabulous canyon he talked about. He said that he had been to see it, and it was sure worth the trip. I got some general direction on how to find the canyon, but the bartender insisted that all I had to do was travel northwest, I couldn't miss the canyon.

I had been on my way to the canyon for 10 days and had begun to regret the trip when I suddenly had a terrible fright! The ground seemed to disappear as if I had come to the edge of the Earth. My horse was more responsible than I for saving our lives, since I was more involved in dodging tree limbs and cursing my gullibility for believing the bartender's story than I was in watching where we were going.

I dismounted and tied my reins to a convenient tree limb. I walked forward a few feet to an abrupt drop of over a mile. I grasped a limb with a death grip and leaned over the cliff edge to look down. The first few feet of the cliff were very steep, then it began a slight slope, but it was still so nearly vertical that, had I fallen, I would not have stopped until I had traveled more than a mile down to a raging river below me. Nothing could have survived such a fall!

It took at least a minute of staring at that river so far below me before I raised my eyes to the far side of the canyon. The wall rose in a spectacular series of color bands of the most beautiful hues. As far as I could see to my right and left, the canyon continued in this same glorious manner. That bartender was a piker—his description in no way did the canyon justice! I don't know how long I stood there, completely enraptured by the sight.

I looked around, but I could not see any way to travel to the bottom of the canyon. It was only later that I realized how lucky I had been not to find a route down to the river because of how grueling would have been the trip back up the cliff to the top. As it was, I was forced to stand there in awe of the sight before me.

Finally, a sound from my horse brought me back to reality, and I returned to life to tend to his needs. It was getting late, so I decided to camp where I was. I fed my horse and tended to him, and I cleared a little space on the ground for my campfire. Once I had everything ready for the night's rest, I went back to my vantage point to watch the sun set over the most magnificent sight to greet human eyes. When the sun finally set, I went back to my camp and fixed my usual trail meal of jerky and beans, with coffee. I went to sleep with the firm intention to wake in time to see the sunrise at the same place. I had been thrilled so by the sight that I had trouble getting to sleep, but I had no problem waking in time to see the sunrise on the canyon—a sight more spectacular than the sunset!

I spent the rest of the day just sitting at my place beside the canyon and marveling at the sights all around me. I spent another day in the same place, but good sense finally penetrated my awe, and I realized that I had an arduous journey ahead of me as I followed the river south to Yuma. With that in mind, I packed up my meager kit and left to follow the river.