Mike's Southwest Travels: Dripping Springs 5

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Dripping Springs Fifth Trip
October 15, 2005

 

A "re-imaged" version of Filmore Falls

Mike's Southwest Travels: Dripping Springs 4

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Dripping Springs Fourth Trip
October 15, 2005

                                         

Okay, Dripping Springs again.  You know the drill.  I just can't stay away.  I'm glad I went this time.  Who knows how often the drip comes out in a torrent like this?  The springs were gushing with ice cold mountain water.  In the first picture, even Filmore Canyon Falls was actually wet.  Enough babbling, enjoy the pictures.

Filmore "Falls"

   

Dripping Springs

Mike's Southwest Travels: Dripping Springs 3

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Dripping Springs Third Trip
September 17, 2005

   

Welcome to Mutual of Mike's Wild Kingdom.  Today, we're going to make some new animal friends.

Meet Mr. Tarantula.  You can just barely see him there in the bushes.

Meet Mr. Squirrel.  You can just barely see him there in the middle of the trees.  There were tons of squirrels out the day I visited, but very camera-shy.

Meet Mr. Bull Snake.  Unlike the other animals, this one wanted to be my friend and posed for a close-up.

Enough fun with the wildlife.  Carrying on with the hike, I discovered a little used trail.  And then I discovered why it was little used.  Welcome to the Fort Bliss Firing Range.

   

Okay, back to the regular trails.  I discovered the remains of the Modoc Mine.  Unfortunately, it mostly consists of a few signs.

 

The mine was a trifle disappointing.  However, I really came up to Dripping Springs this time to see the majestic Filmore Canyon Falls.  Hmm... This is them.  The stain on the rocks there is either the falls themselves, or where a bunch of Squirrels relieved themselves.  Take your pick.

Ah!  Savor the mystery of the Hermit's Cave.  Some old dude lived up here and died.  Some much for the mystery.  On the other hand, I plan on coming back here for my upcoming vacation.  Just let the users try to find me here for their computer customer support.

Mike's Southwest Travels: Dripping Springs 2

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Dripping Springs Second Trip
September 11, 2005

   

    "It wasn't dripping, damn it!" I shouted at the man in green with the wide-brimmed hat. "It was gushing.  A freaking torrent of water pouring out of God's own faucet!"

    "Yes, sir," the park ranger had all the cool authority of an armed man, "And what's the problem?"

    "This wasn't what I came here for!  It's Dripping-Freaking-Springs!  It's supposed to drip and it wasn't.  This is false advertising.  I want my three bucks back!"

    The park ranger was nonplussed by the logic of my argument.  He was also reaching for either his walkie-talkie or his gun.  I decided to let the matter drop and contented myself with an otherwise well-spent afternoon, and hastily returned to my vehicle without further complaint.

    Regardless of the duplicity of the park service, my return to Dripping Springs was a triumph.  I have now seen the eponymous Dripping Springs (dripping, though they weren't) and the Dripping Springs Resort/tuberculosis sanitarium.  The later of which is in ruins, which is too bad, because this would be a tremendous place for a park lodge.  Unfortunately the crappy, broken-down old buildings there are now old enough to be considered historic landmarks.  Regrettably, I am not in charge of these matters.

   

 

Here are the springs themselves.  Trust me, the water is flowing.

Here's the well.  If this were just cleaned up, it could easily provide enough water for the DiMatteo Dripping Springs Park Lodge and Casino.

 

A PBS crew from the local station happened to be up there as well.  They were discussing the possibility of doing a historical reality show.  In keeping with the history of the ruins, the show would be called, Tuberculosis House.  "It'll be like an cross between Big Brother and Survivor with genuine historical hardship," exclaimed one producers.

   

This is a little used path I found away from the resort.  I later learned that this was called the  Forbidden Path of Death to Overly-Inquisitive Hikers.  One giant leap for Mike-kind later, I found the sanitarium.

   

   

Remains of the sanitarium.