From Mayan Maiden, Rustlers Explore Mysteries of Big Park

April 10, 2026

On a brisk morning in early February, the Rustlers of the Sedona Westerners gathered to explore a favorite Big Park route beginning at the Transept Trailhead. The hike is affectionately known within the club as “Mayan Maiden,” named for the striking rock formation that resembles the profile of a Mayan woman watching over the valley. It should not be confused with “Mayan Man,” a separate formation located farther down Verde Valley School Road along the Turkey Creek Loop Trail. Both formations spark the imagination, but on this particular morning, it was the Maiden who commanded our attention.

Transept Trailhead serves as a gateway to several excellent hikes, offering access to scenic stretches of the Transept Trail and connecting routes. The only drawback is parking. With fewer than ten roadside spaces and uneven, bumpy terrain, securing a spot can be a bit of a challenge. Ironically, crossing the busy road to reach the trail proved to be the most difficult part of the day’s adventure.

The air was crisp as the group carpooled to the trailhead, but with a forecast high of 65 degrees, it was clear that layers would not last long. Jackets and knit caps were gradually shed as the morning sun climbed higher, revealing a brilliant winter sky and the warm glow of Sedona’s red rocks.

Much of the hike followed the Transept Trail, offering wide-open views of Mayan Maiden herself, the majestic presence of Cathedral Rock, and a curious historic structure tucked into the landscape: a masonry dam of uncertain origin. The dam, more than ten feet high and roughly sixty feet wide, blocks the entrance to a somewhat hidden box canyon. From a distance, it appears almost out of place, a relic from another era set quietly against the timeless red cliffs.

As the group observed the dam the obvious questions were raised: who built it, and why?

Two of the Rustlers took on the role of amateur historians, researching possible origins of the dam. The Sedona Heritage Museum offered valuable insights as did an article written by Sedona Westerner’s own George Witteman back in March 2014 for the Red Rock News. While definitive answers remain elusive on the origins of the dam, these two resources offered fascinating context. Apparently, in the early 1920s, approximately twenty families attempted to homestead in the Big Park area, which is where this hike is located, and later became known as the Village of Oak Creek. Water scarcity proved to be a formidable obstacle. By the end of World War II, only two of those families remained.

Historical homestead records list several early settlers in the area: James Roberts in 1919; William Himmler in 1929 and his brother, Harry Himmler, in 1932; Earl Pendegrass in 1930; and Nathan Allen in 1931. These individuals and their families likely worked tirelessly to secure reliable water sources, and the dam could have been part of those efforts.

Another intriguing figure connected to the region’s development is Fannie Bell Gulick, a retired Las Vegas bordello madam who purchased approximately 920 acres in Big Park and around 1,000 acres in Grasshopper Flats, later known as West Sedona, during the 1940s. Gulick hired geologist and well-driller Carl Williams to search for groundwater. They discovered excellent well water at approximately 450 feet in both locations, a breakthrough that changed the area’s prospects.

Following Gulick’s death on May 19, 1963, at the age of eighty, her Big Park holdings passed to Irving A. Jennings, Jr. In 1967, Jennings announced plans to transform the area into a planned residential and golf community, what we now know as the Village of Oak Creek. The seeds of modern development had been planted.

Still another possibility for the dam builder involves Kel Fox, who followed his father, Frederick Fox, an early 1900s homesteader in Big Park. During the 1930s and 1940s, Kel Fox and his associates undertook extensive “tank building” in the region. In ranching terminology, tanks were water-capture structures designed to collect and store runoff water for livestock. Given this history, it is entirely plausible that the masonry dam encountered on the Rustlers’ hike served as one such tank.

Whether constructed by early homesteaders desperate for water, by later land developers, or by ranchers seeking to sustain their herds, the dam stands today as a quiet testament to the determination and craftsmanship of those who tried to make a life in this arid but beautiful landscape.

For the Rustlers, the Mayan Maiden hike offered more than sweeping views and pleasant winter temperatures. It provided a glimpse into Sedona’s layered history thanks to our historians, of ambition, hardship, ingenuity, and transformation. As the group made its way back along the trail, jackets now off and cameras filled with images of red rock splendor, there was a shared appreciation not only for the scenery, but for the stories embedded within it.

Always check sedonawesterns.org for the latest hiking and membership information.