Getting started: The Cold-Emails

In an attempt to learn as much about the whole canal system in the valley, I started cold-emailing and using basic networking tactics to connect with and talk to as many people as possible. I figured the more people that I talked to, the more rounded the information would be, and if one person could connect me to the next person, and that person to the next, then somewhere along the chain of contacts and connections, I would find the gems, the gold that I was searching for.

One of my normal means of networking anymore is to talk to ASU Art Museum curator John Spiak. There are some people in this world who are contact people, connectors. Within social scientists, they are the people who cross from one social circle into many other social circles, thus allowing for the Six Degrees of Separation theories to happen. I know a few of them, and they seem to know everyone in town. Nora Spitznogle, a woman who I worked with in Indianapolis, is one of them. If you know anyone in Indy, they know Nora. John Spiak is another one of these people.

I asked him about any connections with SRP (which is the Salt River Project, or the people who operate the canals as well as create power at the Roosevelt and other dams upstream). Of course, the ASU Art Museum had worked with SRP within the last few years, and John knew a community liaison contact at SRP. After checking to make sure that it was alright for John to connect us, I received the name and email of Jim Duncan.

After getting his information, I emailed Jim and set up an appointment with him at the SRP center in North Tempe, off of Project Road near Mill Avenue. There are a few different SRP centers, and this one houses the offices that include the public relations sectors, the Archives, and the ways in which SRP is perceived within the community. It seems like an interesting entity to deal with, one with many different facets within the valley, and one with many roles. They run the canals, but they are also the place where I send my electric bill.

The complex on Project Road was pretty impressive, and I got lost a little bit just trying to find the right parking and entrance to the building. The place is pretty secure, and after I told the front desk security who I was meeting, they paged Jim to come down and talk to me. There is a giant, two foot diameter paper ball on the security desk that looked like name tags of some sort. While waiting for Jim I looked around at the lobby/information area. There were many maps and old black and white photographs of the canals, an interactive lighted map showing where the SRP canals are in comparison to the Native American Hohokam canals which were abandoned about three hundred years before the settlers found them and re-dug parts of the system.

Overall, the office complex was pretty secured, considering it was a public, government owned utility company. Everything was behind swipe keyed doors, and SRP personnel were always accompanying people through the building. No one walked alone.

Jim came down and met me in the lobby and we talked at an open table on the unlocked side of the swipe doors. I explained my project to him, the ideas of using the geocaching system to get people out into the canal environment. I talked about geocaching in general, showing him images from my phone of some geocaches, and basically tried to make him comfortable about my project and the hidden aspect along the canal. His main concern was with having anything dug around the canals, since the canal system itself is technically federal land and property. If there was any digging or hiding, I would have to get permission from the Department of the Interior and the Bureau of Land Reclamation. No digging for me, as long as there are no stipulations for magnets, we’re a-ok!

All in all, we had a pretty good conversation. He seemed interested in the project and basically asked what he could do for me. I asked for contacts, specifically people who had access to photographs, histories, oral projects, and other information that would help me to grasp a greater understanding of the history of the valley and the SRP connection to that. He mentioned Shelly Dudley at the SRP Archives department. I also told him that I would love to get out to the canal spots and witness as much as possible about how the canals work, where the water comes from, how it flows, and where are the places that the water washes through. And also I’d love to talk to people who have worked with or used the system over a period of time, people who would be able to give their personal perspectives on how the water has effected their existence here in the valley. He told me that he would contact Greg Watkins and others who were long time water masters, and set me up with appointments with zanjeros, or the watermasters who specifically turn on and off the water in the valley. The people with the hands on the water itself.

He mentioned the upcoming 100 year anniversary of the Roosevelt Dam, and the event that SRP had planned for that momentous occasion. There would be dignitaries, the governor, and other SRP big-wigs at the actual dam site, as well as a live feed of the ceremony which would be shown at the SRP headquarters buildings (including the one we were in). I couldn’t keep my excitement back about wishing to witness the event, and asked for permission to watch it with other SRP employees. I didn’t even have to twist his arm very much to get an affirmative.

So on the way out, Jim gave me some literature, including a zanjero area map. While he was in the swipe key access part of the building I wandered into the small SRP museum, which housed many old photographs of the canal as well as large text pieces that illuminated speeches by popular and important people in relation to the history of the canals.

One panel told a bit of history that was extremely important to my understanding of the valley. So when the Bureau of Land Reclamation (a new part of the Federal Government) was looking into projects in the west, they were propositioned by a group of farmers in the Arizona valley who were wishing to have a consistent amount of irrigation water for their crops. Coming off of a year of drought which followed two years of floods, the valley residents just wanted consistent water to flow through the canals that fed their crops. They proposed building a damn in the Superstition Mountains east of the valley, to create a reservoir to store water for the lean years, as well as control the water that would flow through the valley. Power would also be generated through the damn to be sold to the city below.

The Federal Government agreed to the plan to build this damn and reservoir, but didn’t want to pay for the project all alone, so the farmers in the valley, everyone who was a part of the Salt River Valley Water Users Association, put their land up as collateral for the building of the damn. In essence, the valley users pooled their land together to offer to the government so that a damn would be built to water their farmland. It is an amazing case of communal cooperation bordering on socialism, with a hint of downright progressivism. And in Arizona! Really warms my heart that everyone banded together like that to build something that was for the collective good.

And in the end, when the government finished the damn, they gave the control rights to the water that flowed downstream because of it to the SRVWUA, which changed its name to the SRP. Kinda interesting place, this SRP. It’s kinda like a business, but the Federal Government owns all the land and lets SRP manage it for non-profit. It’s an interesting egg to crack. I mentioned the story as I was leaving to Jim and he was just as amazed as I was at the amount of togetherness the local farmers had in pooling their only resource, their land, against the future of their harvests. In the 1960’s, SRP paid off the government in full by the assessments that SRP charged to the farmers for the water as well as the profits that were garnered by the newfound need for power that was generated at the damn. It seems like there are going to be a lot of layers to this onion, and I’m leaving the complex with a list of contacts to come and leads to follow.

Trip # 2: Park of the Canals

The Park of the Canals in Mesa lies in a very interesting spot. It is the only completely visible and exposed portion of the old Hohokam canal system which lies directly next to the fully functioning, newer South Canal built in the 1870's. There is a mere 30 to 40 feet between something built 800 to 1,000 years ago and abandoned and something built 130 years ago and still in use and operation. It's a pretty amazing site. Also, about a half mile down canal is the spot where this South Canal is split into the Tempe Canal and the Consolidated Canal which flows to Chandler and Gilbert. I was pretty excited to see two really cool parts of the system all in one.

Also, I went out on this glorious day to check out the site of a few caches. There were two in the park and one at the split, and I was looking forward to honing my cache skills. I realized that the first cache, one located in some rocks near a bridge, was just way too visible for me to attempt on a Saturday morning because of the amount of other people/non-cachers around (also known as Muggles). There were children and their parents all around a playground (strangely titled Indian Compound Playground). I decided to look around the park first instead.

The park consists of two sections that seem to be parts of the original canal as well as a circular “orientating” trail which Boy Scouts use to learn compass and map using skills as well as a botanical garden. I decided to get a lay of the land by walking the circular path around the park first.


This lead me to the smaller of the canal spaces, what seems to have been a lateral for the Hohokam (laterals are smaller canals used to spread the water to more spaces). It ran near and parallel to the larger canal and was lush considering the areas around it. In the background are housing and palm trees.

I circled around to the playground again and decided to take a deeper walk into the real canal. This canal would lead me to the present canal, and I really wanted to be in the spot of the water, to walk in the path of the flow.






There is a marked difference between the green and brown/tan nature of the land, and with the bicycle tire marks it mostly makes me think that this land, and the burms around it, were created for sport and spectacle. The shift toward green makes me change my mind about the origin, though.





I became interested in the housing next to this spot. More curious than interested, actually. The houses looked (and later it’s slightly confirmed that they were) older and seemed to be of a more middle to upper middle class origins. The clay shingles and white stucco walls, real design and not fabricated subdivisions, made me think of the class divisions and stratification that happens because of water and the proximity of a home to water in similar ways that a persons height in a cemetery denotes social status. The higher the grave the higher the status, the closer to water the higher the status.








I started to really explore using this land, the canal space as a metaphor for this division, setting the walls of Native American canals as a wall against the new “settlers” to this land. Fences made of hundreds of years of history.











Walls and barriers and separations, hills and fences and water as a divider. Class and race and space and place all coming together over that fence, where the old canal is at your back and the water is on the other side.




And always the artifacts of what was once there, the remnants of the past. At first my mind raced, imagining these shards were pottery from some ancient civilization, then I picked one up and realized that it was probably some hikers coffee mug that had been dropped and abandoned. I’m still wondering about the story around the light bulb, though....




And after coming through the wash, this is the sign that was given to me from this place. It seemed all too fitting.




And at the other side, there was water. This is the southern tip of the South Canal, Mesa Arizona.




Canal life and power issues struck me at this point of the hike. There was even a bell (to get to later) to the left of these houses.




Pumping station, where the citizens opened up the canal for the laterals that fed the neighborhood. Not so long ago, neighbors living close to these stations opened the gates to their neighborhoods on a rotating basis. Now you’ve gotta watch out for the 40 ounce bottles.





Two different kinds of place and ownership markings.




Taken from the bridge facing north.




There was a geocache on this site, and after just a little bit of struggle I was able to find it. I won’t reveal everything, but here were the goodies.




Magnets, a dangly pink earring, and a logbook.

Taken from the bridge, this is where the canal splits. Facing south, water that goes to the right flows to Tempe and water that goes to the left flows to the Consolidated Canals and Chandler and Gilbert. This process is pretty interesting, the water splitting and flowing into two different neighborhoods.




Facing east toward the Superstition Mountains.




Facing west toward Tempe and Phoenix.




And with anything in a park, there is a plaque.




And from this plaque comes the name of this blog: Canal 3 is divided at this spot to equal Canal 6 and Canal 5. Interesting and ornate syntax and language used to denote the importance of this place.




Below that name there is this description, titled divide and connect. It’s a bit hard to read, both here and in person. Here is what it says:

Division Gates: Mesa’s Great Divide
You are standing at a unique location along the Valley’s 150-mile canal system: the only place where one canal feeds several others. The South Canal (3) flows toward you from Granite Reef Dam. The Tempe Canal (6) flows west to Tempe. The Consolidated Canal (5) flows east/southeast to Chandler and Gilbert. From this strategic point, canal water flows to most of the Valley south of the Salt River.

From Manual to Remote Control
In the past, zanjeros raised and lowered the gates by hand. Many calls went back and forth between the dam tender at Granite Reef, the zanjeros and users. Zanjeros “kept you on order,” insuring delivery of the right amount of water to where and when it was needed. By 1962, remote push-button operation controlled the Dividion Gates, and since the mid 1970’s a centralized computer controls most of the SRP system.

“Things get pretty peppy after a rain....”
The Canal That Rang a Bell
Mr. And Mrs. L.H.Mayes (left, 1947) managed the Division Gates from their home just northeast of the Gates. A telemater at the Division Gates measured the height of the water in the South Canal. When it rose too high, a warning bell rand in the house. As Mrs. Mayes reported, “Things get pretty peppy after a rain or wind storm, especially if there is heavy rainfall between the Gates and Granite Reef.”




That bell was further up the canal, near the four power boxes I photographed earlier. I started thinking about water rights and issues of plenty along this place. The trees along this canal were varied and many, and included coniferous as well as deciduous trees, but there was water for all. As I thought about the story of the Mayes, though, I realized one thing. They were opening the water for the people upstream, up the canal, to make sure that they weren’t being flooded, not sending water down canal for the others in Tempe and Chandler/Gilbert to use. Oh,the power of water and who controls the knobs.




And back, almost to the park, I noticed the ramp to the canal blocked off and a few sets of discarded swim suits abandoned in the dirt. There are many uses for the water that we consume.



This sign was in the park:

Approximately 300 B.C., Prehistoric Indians entered the Salt River Valley. They developed an extensive canal system and raised corn, squash, agave and cotton.

Over 500 miles of Hohokam canals have been recorded in the Salt River Valley. Estimates suggest that the canals may have supported between 30,000 and 60,000 people with up to 100,000 acres under cultivation. Some of the canals extended over 12 miles in length. For reasons still unknown, the Hohokam abandoned their canal system and left the valley by 1450 A.D.

In 1878, Mormon Pioneers constructed their first major canal by clearing out an ancient Hohokam canal. This canal is located West of the cactus garden. The bridge to the playground spans another prehistoric canal. A third ancient canal is located just North of the playground.

The Park of the Canals preserves about 4,500 feet of ancient canals. The National Geographic Society has listed this park as an important site for Native American heritage. The American Society or Civil Engineers has awarded the Hohokam canal system an Award of Excellence in Prehistoric Engineering. This is the first time that an ancient civil engineering project has been so honored. The Park of the Canal is listed as a National Historic site.



I love how the Hohokam received an award for their engineering.

Upon returning to the park I hunted and found the other cache. Small, cute cache.




So, for the "what have you learned from this experience" point of the post. I really went into the space to experience the land, to walk both canals and see what there was to see. I knew of the history of the place, next to each other and such, but really tried to keep any preconceived notions about what I may find out of my mind so I could merely recognize and take in.

What I found was a very complex place layered with past and present, a direct attempt to keep or preserve what was there now. But, as argued by Aldo Leopold, preservation is merely an after the fact attempt to keep what is there as it is now. Layers of time, privilege, class, race, and the changing nature of place all intertwine with stories of Latino zanjeros, bell ringers, artifacts and conifers. And in my youth I would have scorned the creation of a park in such a historically rich place, but now I see it as a way of preserving and keeping that place precious. Now I only wish the playground name didn't reference both an incorrect and insensitive nomenclature or fringe religious groups. And that it wasn't made of plastic.