Butch Cassidys mother, Ann Gillies, was born in Scotland. At the age of 9, her father put his family on a ship and immigrated to the United States. From Boston, the Gillies family traveled west on a train to the end of the tracks in Iowa City, Iowa. In the March issue of this magazine, we followed the trail they used to cross Iowa and reach the settlement called Winter Quarters. They were members of the Mormon Church and were on their way to the Salt Lake Valley.

We left Phoenix on a warm spring weekend and headed east through the historic town of Miami, Arizona. This area has long been copper-rich country and the commercial mine operation here has a storied past that extends back to 1915. We traveled past the town and the open pit mine areas to Highway 188 North. We were headed into the Sierra Ancha area, a high-desert part of the state that is extremely rugged.

We have followed the Mormon Trail from Nauvoo, Illinois, to Winter Quarters, Nebraska, in the past two issues of this magazine. In 1846, Brigham Young and his followers used that part of the trail while on their way to settle the Salt Lake Valley in Utah. They chose to spend the winter in Winter Quarters and finish their journey in 1847. The trail continued to be used in following years by others who traveled to the valley. By 1856, the trail was well defined and a timetable for travel was established using Winter Quarters as a starting point. Four groups chose to ignore the warnings of others who said it was too late in the year to continue. Those four groups became a part of what history has recorded as the Handcart Disaster of 1856. Butch Cassidy’s grandparents and the girl who eventually became his mother were in one of those groups. This story covers their arrival in the U.S. and their journey to Winter Quarters.

The first story in this series began in Nauvoo, Illinois, and followed backcountry roads 167 miles to Garden Grove, Iowa (see the Jan. ’13 issue of this magazine). This story picks up the trail in Garden Grove and continues on backcountry roads across Iowa to Winter Quarters, Nebraska, where Mormon pioneers spent the winter of 1846 into 1847. Out of the 155 miles we traveled for this section, approximately 100 miles were on unpaved roads.

It’s amazing how long it can take to scratch a particular itch. The Anza Borrego mud caves came onto my proverbial radar screen about a decade ago while reading a hiking and exploring Web page.

The planned trip was put on the backburner for many reasons, but one was that the mud caves are in a corner of the Anza Borrego Desert State Park that I don’t often visit. It takes longer to get to and it’s more remote once you show up. Other destinations were easier propositions.

While doing some research into the ancestry of Butch Cassidy, we came across the ship records for all four of his grandparents. In 1856, the Parker family from England and the Gillies Family from Scotland were members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. There is nothing to indicate they knew each other.

There's no official desert season in the Mojave, but the months from October to May are the most pleasant ones. Daytime temperatures range from balmy to chilly and the nights are crisp. By contrast, June, July, August, and September are mostly toasty and unpleasant.

Grass! Nothing but miles and miles of rolling hills covered with grass. We were in the midst of a monstrously large national forest and yet we were adrift in an almost endless ocean of grass. It was one more of the many surprises that awaited us in the Gila of southwestern New Mexico.

It was a warm day in September when Happy Jack pointed west out of Page, Arizona, and said, "I wanna go there." He looked at Lone Writer and Sundance, waiting for a response.

The “trail where they cried” is spelled in Cherokee as “Nunahi-duna-dlo-hilu-i.” It is better known in history books as the Trail of Tears. Andrew Jackson was elected president of the United States in 1828. He said, “…No state could achieve proper culture, civilization, and progress, as long as Indians remained within its boundaries.” His plan involved the removal of all Indians from the eastern United States. He suggested relocating them west of the Mississippi River on lands that were recently acquired in the Louisiana Purchase. The Indian Removal Act of 1830 put his plan in motion.

Last time, we pontificated about Bishop, California’s possible status as the ultimate base camp for adventure. This time we’d like to drive the point further home.

Bishop, California, just might be the ultimate base camp. Situated between the Sierra Nevada range to the west and the White Mountains to the east, Bishop’s locale on the floor of the Owens Valley allows the town to largely escape winter’s snows, thus providing a year-round exploration epicenter.

The first wagon train to leave Independence, Missouri, and head west by way of the Oregon Trail was in 1836. At that time, the trail had been improved for wagon travel to Fort Hall, Idaho. Anyone wishing to travel beyond that point had to leave their wagons behind. The trail all the way to the Pacific Ocean had been used for many years on foot and on horseback but not in a wagon.

We don’t know about you, but the reason we got into off-roading was the adventure it promised. You know, the proverbial "call of the wild."

Oh, we hate that feeling. The feeling one gets when the uphill tire is tight against the sheer rock face but raised as it runs over the rocks and silt left behind from the last storm. Why is it that these dugways always tilt to the outside? The downhill tire? The downhill tire is the one that is less than a tread width from dropping over the edge into the great red "nothing" below. Ah…the pucker of Piute Pass. It was great to be back! There is nothing like red dirt and adrenaline to make one truly appreciate the Utah back country.

Big Bear, California, can't lay claim to having the most scenic trails in existence. That honor is beset by the likes of the San Juan Mountains in Colorado. Big Bear can't say its trails are the toughest around, either. That honor is owned by routes such as the Hammer trails in nearby Johnson Valley.

Lone Writer and Happy Jack were relaxing on the banks of the Green River a few miles south of a community called La Barge, Wyoming. They had been exploring back roads along the Oregon Trail, but ran out of tracks at the river crossing.

Butch Cassidy and Elzy Lay walked into the Montpelier Bank to make a withdrawal while Bob Meeks waited outside with the horses. The day was August 13. The 13th deposit of the day had just been completed. The amount of the deposit was $13. The time was 3:13 pm. The bank teller who was shoved up against the wall by Elsie Lay said 13 was the cause of it all.

For 50 years, the Tierra Del Sol 4 Wheel Drive Club of San Diego has been inviting off-roaders to Ocotillo Wells SVRA for a weekend of 'wheeling. Starting out as a smallish group of Jeeps tackling the desert terrain the event has grown by leaps and bounds and attracts thousands of enthusiasts who return year after year.

It is now becoming a rite of passage of winter to take a 4x4 up into the snow to explore some mountain trail or usually inaccessible destination. In the past I have towed a trailer and camped, as I did last year in the San Juan Mountains of southern Colorado and five years ago towing a 24-foot Airstream in these very same Cascade Mountains of central Oregon.

Butch Cassidy was at his hideout in Powder Springs, Wyoming, when he received a handwritten note from his long-time friend, Matt Warner. The note read, "Butch, we're goners if we don't get some money quick to hire lawyers." (We got that quote from a book titled, The Last of the Bandit Riders, narrated by Matt Warner).

We had embarked on a personal celebratory journey upon returning to the USA after a yearlong hiatus in China, and had taken to calling it the "Return to Dirt" tour. Marshall, Tomichi, and Napoleon passes had already appeared in our rearview mirror and we had three more backcountry jewels left on our planned itinerary. Now we were cruising the dirt of Forest Road 742 across Taylor Park in central Colorado. The Elk Mountains form the northern rampart of the Taylor Park area and we were headed directly toward the imposing range.

Colonel John Gibbon's surprise attack on the Nez Perce camp in Big Hole, Montana, on August 9, 1877, did not produce the desired result. His U.S. Army soldiers killed many women, children, and elderly, in addition to some warriors, but he was driven back and pinned down by sharp shooters. By nightfall of the 10th, all surviving Nez Perce were gone and the battle was over (this is part four of the Nez Perce Trail series).

Dirt! I needed dirt under my wheels! It had been far too long since I had enjoyed the dirt and rocks of an unimproved road.

An incredible year of working in the People’s Republic of China had provided plenty of adventure, but of an entirely different sort. Living in a 17-floor apartment in a city of 6-million people didn’t provide opportunity to lock in the hubs, turn off the pavement, and explore the backcountry that I so love.

Now I was back home in the United States and had some time off to enjoy. It was September and the Colorado mountains beckoned. It was high time for a return to the dirt. A map was spread out and possibilities considered. This was to be a point-to-point camping trip where we would camp wherever we happened to be when evening approached. Pavement was to be avoided and high-country routes with challenge got extra consideration. A route that minimized pavement and maximized high mountain passes was selected. I packed the truck with several days’ worth of food and our gear, and we were off.

The war between the U.S. Army and the Nez Perce Native Americans became fully engaged beginning with the White Bird battle on June 17, 1877 (this is Part III of the series that began in the March issue of this magazine). The Nez Perce were made up of bands led by five different chiefs who refused to move onto the reservation with boundaries defined by the Army.

They won that first battle but they knew they were outnumbered and outgunned. The war could not end in their favor. Warriors in the band drew the attention of the soldiers by attacking them from every possible position. In the meantime, the rest of the band moved across the Camas Prairie as fast as 800 men, women, and children could travel while herding 2,000 animals.

The Army caught up with them again near Kamiah, Idaho. Another battle took place but casualties were low. When the fighting subsided, General Howard’s men were on the west side of the Clearwater River, but the Nez Perce crossed to the east side. Once again, a raging river acted as a boundary between the two forces. The Nez Perce knew where the safe crossings were located and the Army did not. While the soldiers searched for a crossing, the Nez Perce headed east and entered the Lolo Trail.