I recently saw an article about a trip to Arizona where tourists were taking trips for a special day that included a hike in the Superstition Mountains and a chance to relive the history of the Lost Dutchman Mine. Once a year the Don's of Arizona have a day in the Superstition Mountains when they take a trek through the countryside, pan for gold and watch a live drama about the old Dutchman. There were pictures of people hiking through the Saguaro covered incline near Apache Junction in Arizona. Those pictures took me back 38 years to a special time when my family saw those fascinating Superstition Mountains.

My parents lived in Arizona for several winters and worked in Apache Junction for retired elderly people. They lived in a cute little house next to one of their bosses. One year they asked us to come and visit them. We thought a vacation would be just the thing to chase away the boredom of winter's chill.

Loading our clothes and three daughters into our old station wagon we started for Arizona in a raging snowstorm. It was the 17th of March. Snow and cold followed us all the way to Arizona.

The Grand Canyon wasn't far off of our route so we decided to stop and spend the night in the Harvey House Lodge. Since we arrived at night we couldn't see anything and went right to the room. The next morning we were greeted by a never-to-be-forgotten picturesque scene. Outside of the room was the Grand Canyon, we were perched on the rim. That deep ravine was decorated with snowy ledges and frosted cedar trees.

We had breakfast in the famous Harvey House restaurant and I ate the most delicious French toast I have ever tasted. Then we spent a fascinating morning surveying that immense canyon.

When we got to Apache Junction I fell in love with the desert. Majestic Saguaro cactus spread their arms over the sand. Nearby rose the regal Superstition Mountains. I'm a summer person and we had left the snow behind. Now we were in the midst of sunny, warm weather. Shedding our winter coats we donned shorts. Multicolored flowers smiled at us, glowing sunrises and sunsets spread out each morning and evening in the Heavens. Spring was in full bloom.

It was a wonderful week; we strolled through the Arboretum, saw the many enchanting blossoms of the desert and went to see the Indian caves at Canyon de Chelly. Our little white dog Puff was with us. She suffered a slight problem when she got too close to a cactus and we had to extract those stickery prongs.

It was on that trip that I first read and heard the story of the Lost Dutchman Mine. Reportedly the old Dutchman found a rich cache of gold, but because he was fearful that someone would jump his claim he never let anyone know where the mine was situated. When he died the location remained a secret, but visions of riches have brought many gold seekers to the Superstition Mountains where his lost mine was hidden. Ever since that day men have tried to find the shaft that would make them wealthy. As the years rolled by the mine was never discovered but many people have either died while searching for it or mysteriously disappeared. The countryside seemed to swallow them up and no one ever knew where they went.

One of the highlights of our visit was a picnic at the foot of the Superstition Mountains. I love picnics and it was even more special to enjoy a luxurious picnic in the warm weather of March. We just got there when several Sheriff's officers went by our picnic spot. We were a bit curious about what they were doing out there, but the sun was friendly and the food was good so we went ahead with our picnic lunch. We were finished eating and picking up to leave when the men from the Sheriff's office came by. This time they were carrying a stretcher. They had been up in the mountains searching for a lost gold seeker, they had found him. He didn't find the gold, he found death. They were carrying his body out of those Superstition Mountains on a stretcher.

It was a sobering way to end our picnic, but it did add emphasis to the mystery of the Lost Dutchman Mine. The picture of that silent group of men marching with that body on a stretcher still remains vivid in my memory.