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Guest column: Get out there - Laws Spring

Gauge, my seven-year-old grandson, and Mike and I drove out to Laws Spring one hot, muggy summer day. We took Spring Valley Road off Highway 64, and then drove eight miles to Forest Road 730. We turned left and followed the signs to Laws Spring, driving maybe another five miles on a fairly decent dirt road.

A few sparse clouds broke the wide, blue expanse of sky above the prairie. Juniper trees sighed in the heat. I, who am infatuated with old roads and historic sites, got right into the historic feel of the place, while Gauge was much more interested in collecting dead bugs. Mike stayed by the truck while Gauge and I hiked down to the spring. The sign says the spring is a quarter of a mile down the trail, when in reality, it's just a few yards away. We were down in no time.

There is a lot of history at Laws Spring. The spring water was used for centuries by early Native Americans. Petroglyphs dot the surrounding rocks, much to Gauge's delight. In the 1860s Lieutenant Beale, who was commissioned by the government to build a road across the country, used the water. Many of the emigrants who traveled the Beale Wagon Road carved their names in the surrounding rocks.

Gauge and I rested in the shade of a tall pine tree by the spring. A water dog made its lazy way to the surface and then darted back to its hiding place. Gauge was amazed and fascinated and wanted to stay for a long time, just watching the water dogs. Finally we hiked up the trail to the Beale Wagon Road. Once again, the sign said it was a quarter mile away when it was really very close, marked by a wooden sign.

We followed rock cairns for a while, examining ant hills and stones along the trail. We identified scat left by coyotes, bobcats and elk. We talked about the camels Lt. Beale had used on the wagon road. We pretended we were thirsty travelers and that murky water was all that there was to drink. Would we drink it?

We started back up the rocky trail to the truck. Suddenly Gauge let out a cry. I asked if he stubbed his toe and he nodded yes, brushing away tears. I slipped off his shoe and blood dripped from his foot. A cactus needle had gone right through his shoe like a spear. I told Gauge to hop on my back, and I piggy-backed him the rest of the way up the trail to the truck. He sure has gotten a lot heavier lately! We washed his foot with water and pried the needle out of his shoe.

"I don't trust my shoes," he said.

It was time to turn on the AC and head for home!

(Editor's note: Andrea Dunn is a longtime Williams resident who enjoys hiking and the great outdoors. She continues to share her outdoor adventures and places to hike with us through this column.)


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