The Catwalk, New Mexico

On the western side of New Mexico, near the town of Glenwood is a point of interest called the Catwalk.  Back in the mining days there were rich mines in this area.  Unfortunately the only surface water comes from a little stream called Whitewater Creek.

Since the crushing mill needed more water for its electrical generators than the creek easily provides, workers lay a 4” pipe three miles up the Whitewater to a place where they could get reliable water.  The miners kept coming to the area and strikes kept producing precious metals.  A bigger mill meant a bigger generator so more water was needed.  So the men lay an 18” pipe.  Parts of the canyon is so narrow the pipe was suspended from the walls and the only way up the canyon was on top of the pipe, hence the name catwalk.

Today I walked up the first mile or so, the part that has been civilized for us tourists.  Nearly everyone else went up and came down while I was meandering my way.  I talked to some folks and overheard others.  In the process I learned that the water will get 20 feet high in the canyon during a bad flooding.  And the footings and foundations of past bridges and walkways that have been washed away are apparent.  I also learned that the pipe came up in flat sheets and were bent into a pipe shape during installation.  The workers would bend it into a pipe shape and then send a little guy inside.  It was his job to keep the pipe in shape while each rivet was pounded into place.  None of the pipe fragments were close enough for me to see if the little guy was the one who had to do the pounding or whether he did the holding.  The pieces were also riveted together.  I kept hoping they had more than one little guy.  The more I thought of that story, the more I wondered at its truth.  I’ve carried both flat and round and I think a round pipe would have been easier to carry. Official Catwalk literature says the smaller pipe was hand-made however it says nothing about the larger pipe.

It’s hard to imagine twenty feet of water roaring down the canyon.  In places I could see the Whitewater and on this day it is a placid little stream.  In other places I saw rocks scoured into fantastic shapes by the force of the flood water and there are tree trunks easily three feet in diameter lodged in improbable looking places. 

What was easier for me to imagine was a group of workers moving up the canyon to service the pipe. Some, maybe most, are young and many of them will still think they are immortal.  Maybe they feel lucky or maybe they are just being brash young men.  At any rate, I picture them reaching the part where they have to walk on the pipe.  I imagine them jeering and cheering each other on as the pipe becomes a challenge to travel it the fastest or with most skill or maybe with stunts.  Not all will indulge though some will.  My body would have probably followed the cautious however my spirit would have rejoiced with the wild.  And who knows, one day I may have joined them.

postscript:  Arrrgh! There must be an easy way to insert photos however it eludes me - and it IS NOT an oh well!