Stories From the Porch at Lake HiRi

The Ghost of Palo Verde

Steam rose from the coffee as I looked out across the shapeless desert landscape in the early morning hours.  It was a cool, late fall morning and a mist hung over the desert floor like some giant pall.  The Sun was just breaking the Horizon when I caught the sight of movement between the shadows in the desert brush.  It was that time of morning when you could see movement but not determine shapes because of the dim light and the moisture in the air.  There was definitely something there and it appeared to be traveling at an angle to cross in front of me.  I really didn’t think too much about it this time of morning as the animals are generally changing shifts anyway.  Those who hunt at night are on their way home and those working the day shift are on their way out in search of an early morning meal.  As part of this group the Fox and Coyote are also much in evidence this time of morning. 

The coffee was hot and felt good as a defense against the morning chill.  The Sun was now stretching long shadows as its warmth brought additional comfort.  What before was just small movement was now obvious as it moved among the greasewood and sagebrush.  My interest peaked as whatever it was appeared taller than the desert underbrush; this made no sense at all.  There were no animals in this part of the desert that stand over three feet and from what I could see, this shadow stood well above the shorter brush.   In the apparent path there were some small sand dunes so I would loose sight of the shadow, thinking that it would now be gone.  But shortly it would reappear on the other side of the dune and continue in the same direction.  It was one of those situations where your mind tells you your eyes are not correctly recording what you are seeing; this was making no sense at all. 

Whatever it was, I needed more coffee and there are few things that will deprive me of this morning pleasure.  With a refill I returned to the porch and the shadowy movement was still going in the same direction.  The Sun was high enough now to give shape to the shadow and it appeared to be human, but who, who would be out in the open desert this time of morning, also, there was no one who lived remotely close.  It looked like the person had on a jacket of some type, no, it was not a jacket, could it be a dress—how could this be a woman?  I could see more and more detail as the Sun inched higher and it became lighter.  Yes, it was a dress, and it definitely moved like a woman and appeared to have long gray hair that was blowing in the slight morning breeze.  The figure seemed to move as effortlessly as an eagle on the warm air currents, in fact, it seemed to glide instead of walk.  Generally, when you are walking through the desert a straight path is impossible because of various obstacles but she was traveling straight ahead with her head up, seldom looking down.  Anyone who has walked in the desert understands that you must constantly watch where you are walking for many reasons not the least being vipers. 

The angle she was taking would bring her closer to the porch but still some distance away.  As the light increased and she came closer I could see that she was dressed in clothing like women wore in the Nineteenth Century; a long full dress with a high collar and sleeves.  It did appear soiled and torn which would be expected.  I thought about walking out and trying to intercept her but something told me to stay put, and that is exactly what I did.  She did not slow down or go faster, she just seemed to maintain a constant rate of travel.  At this distance it was impossible to see her features but from her posture and body contours she was a young woman, or in this dream she was. This did not appear to be a person who was lost, as her route of travel seemed as determined as one who had been over this same trail many times.  She passed about two hundred yards in front of me always looking straight ahead, and continued until she disappeared into a grove of Athol trees.  I continued to watch the trees for some period of time but never saw her exit. 

Sitting there with a cup of cold coffee in my hand I was completely mesmerized knowing that what I had just seen was an allusion, it could not be real.  I watched the trees for the next hour but with no results, nothing moved in or out of the group of Athol.  In the early morning with the changing shadows it is possible to see things that are only experienced in the mind and not reality, this had to be one of those.  I poured out the cold coffee, got a refill and hurried back to the porch, but I already knew there was nothing further to see, for there had been nothing there in the first place!  Even as I told myself this I continued to watch the grove of trees!  I made a mental note to check the area she had traveled for any sign of footprints and also, I would check the trees.  I knew there was nothing in the trees as I have been there many times just to cool off in the heat of summer. 

I had forgotten about the dogs, as they had not been running around as usual.  All three were lying on the porch starring in the direction of the trees as if they had seen the same thing I had.  The mind deals with strange events in strange ways and that was exactly how I felt, that my eyes had lied to my brain, as my brain could no more comprehend what my eyes had seen, than my body could fly.  I took a sip of the hot coffee but it no longer had the warming effect as the day was in progress, the sun was high in the sky, and my mind was not keeping up.  The dogs were beginning to stir and slowly the world began to right itself again.  I had work to do and was already behind schedule, but all day the sight of what happened that morning nagged in the back of my mind.  It was a warm afternoon for the end of October but for some reason the heat did not seem that important.  By the end of the day I had convinced myself that I did not see what my eyes said I did, and a degree of normalcy took over. 

That evening, an old friend and older residence of the desert, stopped by for some conversation and beer.  In time the discussion drifted into what I had observed earlier.  Frank noted, “What you saw was the ghost of Palo Verde”.  “Over the years, I have heard stories about her and have had conversations with a number of individuals who have claimed to have seen her.  I am not one of those individuals” he noted, I just wish I would see her as I have always questioned in my mind that things of this nature exist.  “Let me tell you” I noted, there was something there but as yet I cannot specifically say what it was.  One thing for sure, “It looked like a woman to me”.  He just smiled and suggested that I keep an eye out in the future and attempt to verify what I had seen.  With that the discussion moved to other areas and a few hours later I poured him into his car for the two-mile trip home.  Sleep came easy but before dropping off I vowed not to discuss this ghost business with anyone else.  I have laughed at others who have made wild claims and I did not want to be considered part of that group. 

Over the years I have seen the Ghost of Palo Verde many times and always going in an East to West direction.  She always disappears into the Athol cluster.  I have spent many hours in the Mojave River Valley Museum searching the history of the area to see if any references to this phenomenon existed.  After three years I found what I had searched for, for so long—a reference in an old accounting of the wagon trains that traveled westward in the mid 1800’s.  It seems that a wagon with a family traveled the old Mojave Road westbound through Afton Canyon to Fort Cady.  At this point instead of continuing to follow the Mojave River the Wagon veered southward toward the Rodman Mountains.  It has never been determined if they were lost or were traveling to a specific location.  When they were over halfway across the valley they ran into a band of Indians on their way from San Gabriel to the Colorado River.  Seeing the single wagon and determining it to be an easy capture, the Indians gave chase.  The driver urged the horses forward at a maximum gate but it was useless as there was no way the wagon could escape the Indians.  At this point the right wheels of the wagon hit a small sand dune and the wagon teetered on the left wheels for a moment and then rolled over.  No one moved in the wagon and it appeared all had been killed.  The Indians were about three hundred yards away when from under the wagon a woman jumped up and started running west, away from them toward a large stand of Athol Trees.  Try as they may the Indians were unable to catch her before she reached the trees.  Some of the Indians went to the trees while others stayed with the wagon.  They searched the entire area but the lady was gone as if she disappeared into thin air. 

The wagon was stripped of the items they could carry and the bodies of a man and two children were left for the vultures and coyotes.  Soldiers who came upon the death scene later buried what remained of the bodies and transported the remaining belongings to Fort Cady.  A check of the remaining goods indicated a woman had been a member of the party but none was ever found.  During the years that followed a lone prospector, scouts for the Army and other have reported seeing a lady in the desert but never found a trace or was ever able to make contact.  So the story sprang from these sighting that a female ghost wandered Silver Valley west of Troy Dry Lake.  No one has ever seen the lady start from anywhere, she is just always observed on the move and always disappears into the grove of Athol’s.  As there is also a large number of Palo Verde Trees in the general area the lady became known as the Ghost of Palo Verde.  The last sighting that I could find was in 1920 by a prospector on his way east into the mountains.  Since that time no listing or information was found in the history of the area. 

Why has the lady decided to start appearing again or has she always been there and just not observed.  These are questions for which there are no answers.  I just know today I see her regularly traveling effortless across the desert to the south of my house at Lake HiRi.  Now that I pay attention when I am on the porch I have noticed her at different times of the day and with a clearer picture it seems she has some type of parasol or umbrella covering her head in the heat of the sun.  She still always moves into the Athol’s and disappears.  I keep my camera on the porch with me at all times and have taken a number of photographs.  Some show a dot in the desert while most show nothing.  As evidence of her existence some of the photos will be attached. 

So if you are ever in the eastern end of Silver Valley be on the alert for the lady who ran from an overturned wagon into a grove of Athol’s to escape the Indians and never was to be seen alive again.  I believe it is the loss of her husband and children that causes her to search without end for their souls on the desert floor.  It is almost like she must find them or wander the desert without end until she does.  Now, whenever I see her in the distance I silently wish her good luck in her quest and may some day she unite with their souls and travel upward to the Valley of Peace.             BB