Old Rock Bath House in Apple Valley is a step back in time. Here's why you should visit

I was recently in Apple Valley on an errand doing this and doing that when I found that I had some time to kill.

So, I pulled over safely on Outer Highway 18 and asked Mr. Google what historical places I might find there.

I’ve been all over Apple Valley. I once lived there and knew that Jedediah Smith traveled through the region.

“Jed,” I said to the bearded, unkempt explorer.

“John,” he replied.

We parted ways then, me to my apple orchard and Jedediah south along the Mojave River.

Men did not talk much in 1826.

But there is much to learn about where we reside or may have resided.

A couple of hits came up in my search: Roy Rogers's old residence, the Fairhope house, the Adobe House, and a few other famous houses in the area. I didn’t choose any of them. I wasn’t sure the owners would like a stranger wandering their front yards snapping a photo here and there.

Then, as I scrolled down to places to visit: The Old Rock Bath House seemed exciting.

After entering the location into my vehicle's GPS, I was on my way and soon was lost.

Directions seemed quite simple. The Old Rock Bath House is near Fairview Valley, not far from Zuni Road, not far from Laguna Seca Drive, east of Fairview Valley Road, along Keator Road, and not far southeast of Drip Ranch.

After bouncing on the dirt Keator Road and passing by the same remote house in the area with a lovely man waving at me each time I jumped past, I decided to stop.

“Looks like you are lost,” he said.

“Was it my expression or the fact I passed your house seven times in the past half hour?”

“And I waved each time,” he replied.

Our man-talk over, he pointed out another narrower dirt trail that led to a canyon deep into some very rocky canyons to the southeast of his property.

The kind stranger told me the road up to the site was too rough for my vehicle and meant for four-wheelers and also that I should have taken the wide dirt road off of Cahuilla Road. It would have made the trip a lot easier.

An off-road adventure to explore history

My truck is pretty good in rough areas, but I decided the gentleman was correct. Not only did the path get relatively narrow, but it wasn't easy to traverse over boulder-sized boulders. My Toyota FJ, no problem — but that stead was back in the barn, so I walked.

Getting on to summer-like temperatures, I, of course, remembered the rules of desert hiking; bring water (I didn’t), have sturdy hiking shoes (I had on a fashionable pair of Sketchers), make sure people knew where I was (I wondered if that included the stranger I had just met), and know your limits (I know when it is time to leave a bar).

A half-mile hike uphill into an unknown canyon looking for something I hadn’t known existed wouldn’t be a problem.

It wasn’t.

A little thirsty and a bit out of breath (time to work out more), I found myself staring at large stone and concrete structures where the canyon, known as Hidden Canyon, narrows into the hills to the south.

According to Rick Schmidt, Director of the Mohave Historical Society, the place has an exciting and tragic history. The canyon in the Granite Mountains of eastern Apple Valley conjured up stories of the stern old pioneers who ventured where many would not make a new life for themselves.

There had been natural springs in the nearby hills, and one such place was here where I was standing.

In an article by Schmidt in 2018 for the Mohave Muse, it is rumored that Pegleg Smith and Bill Williams used to water their stolen horses in the canyons while eluding their owners.

In 1862, the United States Congress enacted the Homestead Act, giving free land to those willing to move west.

It worked, and millions of once-vacant acres were developed by those willing to take a chance and head to the unknown to better their lives.

It was also here in this hidden cove with water that Warren Hair decided to homestead 25 acres of land in 1919. He began construction on several structures hoping to create a family oasis.

Strolling through Old West history

As I strode about the buildings, one thing stuck with me: the finely made rock stairway leading away from the largest of the structures to what appeared to be a creek at the bottom of the stairs.

No water was running, but I could imagine the creek would be flowing well from its steep grade through the canyon at certain times of the year. If someone built a dam or a reservoir, water could be contained possibly through drier parts of the year.

The remoteness of the canyon would surely be an advantage in keeping the water a secret from others who may take advantage.

According to an article from the San Bernardino Sun, dated Nov. 13, 1949, a permit to divert water was issued to Clifford Hair, the son of Warren, to use for the family’s homestead.

Looking over the remains of the structures, a heck of a lot of work was put in by both Warren and Clifford through the decades to build the various rock and cement buildings. It was rather eerie walking about the place.

A slight warm breeze seemed to assist the dragonflies in gaining altitude as I walked from building to building, wondering what it must have been like to take on such a project.

In my many travels, I have encountered places like the Old Rock Bath House, but it never tends to diminish my awe for such folks who invested such labor and time into their dreams.

It always seems to be an honor to walk where they once tread.

Clifford may have dreamed of creating a holiday resort at the location. A hidden cove where an abundance of excellent water flowed from above. What a great idea for a desert and those who may have wanted a chance to wash away the dust.

What to do with the rampaging herds?

But, from the early 1900s, cattlemen in the area had been using the water which flowed from the Isabelle Spring, now part of the Hair’s claim, to water their livestock.

It was easy to take a herd of cattle to the canyon, water them and head back to the ranch, but the cattle would tear up the trails leading to the springs.

A solution was needed to keep the property pristine. Clifford decided to fence the property off.

Apple Valley, being a small and close-knit community at the time, Clifford ran into numerous disagreements with the ranchers about fencing off such easy access to water.

But he stuck to his guns and continued with the building project.

In reading a brief article written in the San Bernardino Sun on July 30th, 1956, I learned of the mysterious death of Clifford Hair.

Clifford had gone into the canyon to work and had not been heard from for nearly a week. When investigated by his family, his body was found lying at the bottom of the creek near one of the structures he had been working on.

A single bullet hole through the heart was the cause of death.

It was known that he carried a revolver for protection against rattlesnakes. The police investigation concluded the gun had dropped and accidentally discharged, killing him.

Right through the back and into his heart.

I do not believe in conspiracy theories, but I love a good conspiracy.

A man suddenly gates off a famous watering hole for ranchers, and a later is found shot through the back.

Hmmm?

In all transparency, I have not been privy to the actual police or coroner’s report and have not read if the bullet which killed Hair was the same caliber as the gun Hair carried with him.

I’m sure a thorough job was completed to get to the bottom of the death at the time, though.

Wandering about the property, I wondered what Clifford’s last thoughts may have been on that fateful day.

‘I should have holstered my gun better’ or ‘perhaps I should not have fenced off the water.’

We will never know, but one thing is sure: Clifford Hair had a dream and continued with it to his last day in that hidden canyon, building his rock bath house.

John can be contacted at, beyersbyways@gmail.com

This article originally appeared on Victorville Daily Press: Old Rock Bath House in Apple Valley is a step back in time