Floodwaters at the Hale Ranch

Jane and Tom Hale have set up a travel trailer to live in until they decide what to do. They have lived on this land for over 32 years. Photo by LCGross Debris from the burn scar and the flooding shows the enormity of the flood waters. Photo by Ellie Petty

The mangled remains of Hedges truck was pulled from the creek where it had rolled down by McSpaddens ranch. Photo by Ellie Petty Our two stories on flooding take place on opposite ends of the Pinals, but both were drastically impacted by first the fire in June and now the flooding which began in July and continued to wreak havoc throughout the month of August. The Ptak’s ranch in El Capitan is located off Highway 77 on your way to Tucson. The Hale homestead is located off Highway 60 mid-way between Miami and Superior.

Jane and Tom Hale have lived on their property in the

Pinals for over 32 years, in a home built by the McKusicks – whose craftsmanship in home building, dating back to the Great Depression, was legendary in the area.

It’s a good thing. A lesser house might not have survived.

The flood waters, which hit the Hales’ house on July 29, were part of the third major flooding event since the monsoons brought the first rain to the area on July 3. A rainy season like this would have been welcomed with openarms after 14 months of record drought, had it not come on the heels of the massive Telegraph Fire. The burn scar left a hard crust where once there was ground cover, and with every rain the runoff was massive and mixed with burned debris and mud.

The Pinals, which typically see 2 inches of rain per year, have had over 14 inches just in July and August.

The Hales had prepared for the flooding by deepening the creekbed channel, creating higher berms, and lining the bend with 4,000-pound jersey barriers – the kind used in road construction.

The first several flood events of the monsoon season, including the one of which overtopped the banks and flooded Six Shooter Canyon, were contained at the Hale ranch with the barriers they had erected after the fire.

But the microburst that hung over the mountains to the west of them and dropped over 2 inches of rain in less than an hour was too much for any man-made barriers.

The mix of flood waters and burn debris quickly overtopped the banks of the creek bed, destroyed the new earthen berm, and blew through the jersey barriers, lifting them up effortlessly and rolling them downriver. It took out the couple’s large gazebo on the back patio and their white picket fence before bursting through the windows and doors of the porch and through the house.

Jane had set the table for lunch that day and had steaks on the counter. Friends Dawn and John Hedges had come to help them move some hay. Even though the sky was clear at the ranch, Jane moved her car and truck to higher ground when she saw it raining to the west. When she went back to get the couple’s 4x4 she saw the wall of water and stopped.

“I was probably thirty seconds from being in that water,” she says. “John (Hedges) didn’t get there fast enough to move his truck, and it rolled up like a tin can behind McSpadden’s.”

Water, mixed with mud and debris – including massive tree trunks the size of a man’s torso – crashed through the back of her home and flooded every room in the house and for nearly an hour, Jane stood on her front porch, barely above the raging waters, and filmed it all.

Inside, her husband, Tommie, along with Dawn and John Hedges, worked to keep the couple’s small dogs safely on top of the now-floating furniture in the living room.

The couple would discover one of the older small dogs had drowned in the back room where the flood first burst through the windows and doors of the home.

“She was old and hard of hearing, and probably didn’t even know it was coming,” says Jane.

Three of her large dogs were in the garage when it collapsed. Two of the dogs made it out of the floodwaters. One has still not been found.

Jane’s video, which was picked up by news stations in the Valley, shows a wide expanse of fast-running water and debris spanning nearly 100 feet. She estimates it was 20 feet deep in places. Later photos show debris piled at least that high in places.

Udon McSpadden lives in a house above the couple. He lost two dogs in the flood and was one of the first people on the scene helping to muck out the home. Photo by Trena Grantham.

The Telegraph Fire began on June 4, 2021. The fire burned 180,757 acres (73,150 ha) and was fully contained on July 3, 2021. On July 4th, the first monsoon rain of the season floods the canyon.

Six Shooter Canyon floods sending water over the banks of the creek damaging homes, bridges and properties in the canyon. The water flooded the road and floated a 40ft container a mile downstream.

Mud could be found inside electrical outlets and in all the plumbing. Photo by LCGross

FLOOD, Continued from page 12

The following day, nearly 50 people showed up to help, including Jane’s daughter Ellie and her long-time neighbor Udon McSpadden, whose house sits above Jane’s. He lost two hunting dogs in the flood, but his house was safe. Volunteers hauled debris-soaked furniture and belongings to the dump, shoveled out mud from all corners of the house, retrieved what was left of John Hedges truck, located the jersey barriers they could find and brought them back to the ranch, checked on the 40 head of Jane’s cattle that had survived, and attended to the couple’s need for food, water, and shelter, providing temporary housing and feeding them.

Friends Allan Walpole and Trena Grantham, who are retired from custom home building, walked through the house and told Jane and Tom what they needed to do to save the house: rip off drywall to the waterline, tear up the flooring to the concrete foundation, scrub down the framework, take apart the electrical, and clean every bit of mud and silt out of the places it had settled.

Jane is unsure whether, even if she were able to save the house, she should try. It depends on the creek. All the experts warn of similar kinds of flood events from the burn scar for another three to five years.

“I could do a complete remodel,” Jane says, “but this ain’t over. Far from it.” She hopes to consult with an engineer to see if something can be done that would ensure the home’s safety, but it’s hard to look at photos of the monster wall of water and debris that hit the house on the 29th and imagine anything man-made could bend the will of Mother Nature and turn the flood away from the house.

In the meantime, the cleaning continues. The mud is everywhere; in electrical outlets, down the toilet, underneath the floors. Jane points to a bathtub that floated off its foundation. The Hales have been using their savings to make repairs. But without a Federal Disaster Emergency designation for the flooding, they won’t be able to get their money back. Nor can they replace the house, she says, if they have to tear it down without the designation. There is also the issue of the garage and the miles of fencing that was taken out by the flood. It’s $35 per foot of fencing says Tom and he has lost thousands of dollars in fencing alone from the flood. That too will have to come out of the couple’s savings for now.

Her daughter Ellie would like to see the house sit for a year with the walls exposed to see if mold shows up. There is a travel trailer set up on site which the couple uses as a temporary home.

They still have dogs and cattle on the property which depend on them. Jane is hoping the forest service will allow their cattle back on the land in a year. If they don’t she doesn’t know what they will do with their herd. u Jane and Tom’s daughter, Ellie Petty scrubbing mud from kitchen cabinets. Photo by LCGross

A microburst which hung over the mountains west of Miami, dumping 2” of rain in less than 45 minutes floods Miami, with water overtopping the bridges and flooding Hwy 60 and sending water into businesses lining the highway and Sullivan Street. The Hale and Ptak ranches are hit hard (pp. 1)

Another monsoon rain which begins at 2 a.m. and rains throughout the morning, floods the Little Acres Mobile Home Park, sending a river of water which upended homes, cars and sheds.

Carl Melford, head of Emergency Management for Gila County, explained in an email that a state emergency declaration was issued on July 29, which made $200,000 available for local governments to recuperate response costs in an emergency. In the event of flooding, this would be applicable to reimburse debris removal costs at a 75% cost match – essentially a reimbursement rate. This means 75 cents of every dollar spent would be eligible for reimbursement, not to exceed $200,000.

However, Gila County has been utilizing the $100 million made available through House Bill 2001, issued by Gov. Ducey. This funding source is statewide, so counties across the state will be drawing on it. It also has no cost match – it’s a 100% reimbursement. Gila County (supporting the City of Globe and Town of Miami) has already used $3.8 million. But this funding is available only to local governments – not individuals like Jane and Tom Hale.

Carol and Jim Ptak with the fire crew who helped save their house and livestock during the fire. “If anyone would have told me on June 13th that the fire would be the easy part, I would have said ‘You’re nuts!’ Carol Ptak.

Brent Cline, Roads Manager with Gila County’s PublicWorks Department. Courtesy photo. The outline of the Telegraph/Mescal Fire which burned over 200,000 acres in June has led to the destructive flooding the area has experienced.

GRYPHON RANCH, Continued from page 1

“If anyone would have told me on June 13th that the fire would be the easy part, I would have said ‘You’re nuts!’”

Gryphon Ranch got the GO call at 5:38 a.m. on June 14. Carol and Jim Ptak were packed – two suitcases by the door, documents, cash, firearms, and a trailer stacked with hay hitched to Jim’s truck.

“We contacted our ranching buddies to bring trailers,” Carol says. “We have 50 head of cattle and three horses.”

They expected their friends around 7:00 a.m., but by 7:25, the only one to arrive at Gryphon Ranch was Todd Abel from Central Arizona Fire. At that point, Highway 77 is engulfed in flames. The trailers have been turned back.

“We had to leave all the cattle and the horses,” Carol says. “We high-tailed it out of there with a wall of flames coming over the hill.”

The fire burns through the night at great intensity. Manzanita, mesquite, scrubby pinion pines go up in flames. A motor home blows up. Winds shift. The fire blows through the primary line north of the Ptaks “as if it didn’t exist.” Ranch Creek Road is devastated from the south.

The Tucson 1 DOC fire crew watches over their ranch, which is positioned between the two fires. The fire swings and rages, and before it’s finished, all of the ranches around and 70% of Gryphon Ranch have burned. It stops 100 feet from the pasture where they left their highland cattle.

Two days later, Jim and Carol return to Gryphon Ranch. They are greeted by their horses and the sight of the only piece of green left in the area. Their house and barn are standing. All their animals are there.

“We feel like the luckiest people on the face of the planet,” says Carol. “Hallelujah, right?”

July 3. It rains hard. Water slips off burnt peaks and comes barreling down the canyons of Ice House, Six Shooter and El Capitan. The Ptaks wake up in their bright blue house to find the last of their green space covered in black mud.

Two of the buildings saved by the firemen are now twisted around trees. There are tangles of fence and water lines littered in random places, and a lot more rocks in the lower parts.

“We flooded 18 times before Miami got hit on July 29th,” Carol recounts.

First they yanked 48-inch culverts from the crossings. A thousand feet of water lines were ripped up and replaced, the corral was repaired (six times), and help was hired to fix the perimeter fence. Jim pulled leg ligaments in the effort and landed in the hospital.

“Since the flood, it’s been 12- to 15-hour days of real physical work,” says Jim Ptak, “and when you’re 66, that gets old.”

He lets out a good-natured laugh, but he means it. When the flooded barn threatened their feed, Carol asked the 4H leaders for help. That night, she and Jim prayed.

“Nothing happens but for the will of God,” says Jim, grateful for his faith. “If you truly believe there’s a purpose, it helps you get through the day.”

The next morning their prayers are answered. Two truckloads of 4H kids arrive to save the hay. A squeegee appears just in time. Together they get the barn mucked out. A hard day’s work. Everyone is exhausted. But the hay is still outside. Then two more trucks arrive.

“Fresh kids!” Carol exclaims.

They stack all of the hay back in the barn. It rains again that night.

“The priority is getting the roads passable and keeping them that way,” says Supervisor Woody Cline of District 3.

It’s August 26, more than a week since the last rain, and Gryphon Ranch is humming with heavy equipment. Brent Cline, Roads Manager with Gila County’s Public Works Department, is there with a tractor. J.L. Dixon is clearing culverts, making roads passable, and building berms. They work feverishly. Thunder rumbles.

A week later, the debris is gone and they’ve started final grading. The pens are being rebuilt, and the Ptaks are working towards getting the ranch operational. Thousands of dollars have gone into the disaster and recovery efforts.

“This is our life now,” says Carol. “Earth work.”

County people have been “absolutely incredible,” Carol says. “Still, our lifestyle has been destroyed, and our life savings are going with it.”

On June 18, Governor Ducey signed a $100 million bipartisan relief package. The funding is to support firefighting efforts, ensure Arizona communities have the resources needed for post-fire disasters such as flooding, and reduce the risk of future wildfires.

Of the $100 million, $10 million is dedicated to local aid, including payments to local contractors for cleanup, removal of debris, demolition directly attributable to fire or flooding, and waivers for dumpster, landfill, and debris/sediment haul-off fees.

This state money is being distributed through the Department of Forestry and Fire Management (DFFM) in local collaboration with public works departments and Gila County Emergency Manager Carl Melford. Property owners can call (928) 910-4009 during business hours or fill out a form online at the Gila County website.

As Carol Ptak awaits a response to her online application for the state flood recovery aid, she is strident about the need for a federal response – accountability for choices that intensified the fire, and possibly the actions that sparked it. The National Guard confirmed they were training in the area the day the Telegraph Fire started.

“They ordered those pilots to that training exercise when there were severe fire restrictions and high winds, and they’re out there with heat flares,” says Carol, incredulously. “And they’re still out there!”

“Our issues today with the flooding are not going away,” says Woody Cline. “There will be winter, spring, and next summer.”

A crust of baked clay forms when the land burns with such intensity, he explains. It needs to be broken up so water can seep into the ground and plants can seed.

“Put the cattle on the burn,” says Carol Ptak. “Feed them native hay and let the cattle go to work. Their feet will break up the crust. They eat, they poop, they reestablish the topsoil. We could reduce the restoration time by half and reduce the flooding in town.”

Adam Bromley, Globe District Ranger, says that while the vegetation burn was intense, the soil burn was primarily moderate, and few areas of the Telegraph Fire produced this hard layer.

“The best available science says that in these areas, especially after a long drought, it’s best for long-term vegetation production to keep cattle off the burn,” he says. “It’s largely about forage per acre. We need two growing seasons.”

Bromley says the U.S. Forest Service utilizes peerreviewed data from a wide variety of resources and often works in partnership with the University of Arizona to make their decisions. As private landowners, the Ptaks are not subject to federal forest regulations. They have their cattle back on the burn and have offered their ranch as a research site for the University of Arizona.

Carol and Jim bought 1,000 acres in El Capitan, southeast of Globe, seven years ago. But before Arizona was a state, a stagecoach route passed through the terrain, according to Carol. She points out the foundation of the original homestead. An old stone slaughterhouse, once filled with ice from Ice House canyon, stands not far from the corral where Blacky, a black angus, finishes off the last of a 1,500-pound bale. He’s been sold. He’ll go in the fall.

“We’re going to do our best to meet customer orders through October, and then we’re shutting down the retail operation,” says Carol, “which will be tough on the revenue side of things.”

In the depths of the devastation, Carol says they’d sell “in a heartbeat,” but Jim doesn’t think that’ll happen without roads and basic infrastructure. The Ptaks have over a decade of breeding in their herd and won’t destock, so perhaps they’ll be back in business before too long.

“Both Carol and I enjoy the animals. We enjoy our customers. We enjoy the relationships we have with our butcher and the people we buy animals from. We enjoy all that. So it would be hard to walk away,” Jim says.

Right now the biggest loss they’ve suffered is the sense of peace one gets living in the country. Sitting around the crackle of a campfire, and the thrill of a thunderstorm.

“Those were two of my favorite things,” says Carol, “and both of those things right now send me into a terror.” Carol Ptak stands next to a tree showing debris over 8 ft high. Courtesy Photo