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The flight out
Our afternoon flight moves west over an unbroken layer of
clouds. But around Arkansas breaks begin to appear in the clouds below
and the sky ahead opens up. The southwest horizon is colored in
blazing rose and slate gray. Minutes later the sun is setting beyond
the nose of the plane. Beside us the Band of Venus, the
projection of the Earth’s
shadow back into the atmosphere, becomes clearly visible. It appears
as a band of blue a couple of shades darker than the sky and looks almost
like a giant storm is coming, just below a similarly projected, but
thinner line of dark sunset pink. Exactly to my left I see the point of
inflection – I’d never seen this before from ground level – where
the Earth’s shadow appears to emerge from. As sunset progresses the
shadow casts higher and I see it cast the highest ever in my experience, until it merges with the
general dark blue of the evening sky after a few more minutes -- a gift of
airplane flight.
Spring Journey
March is spring in southern Arizona and the desert is in
bloom! Nature conducts her business in dry climates almost the same way as
in wet ones. The countryside is filled with a complete set of
watercourses, just like here in Maine -- save for being mostly dry until
called on to carry the sudden massive desert downpours. Although it
is often cloudless in southern Arizona, sometimes there are scattered
cirrus. On occasion it is overcast and may or may not rain. But rain can
come, often suddenly, from rapidly moving cumulonimbus clouds, too.
The landscape is nearly covered with plants, except that they
grow in a more vertical, water-conserving way, whereas ours in Maine can
spread out laterally to make the best use of the lesser sunlight.
The expansiveness of the spring
bloom depends on a number of factors, especially the amount of rain in
early winter. In some years the wildflower display can be quite
spectacular.
A walk on the dry side
In McDowell
Sonoran Preserve we walk on a trail that soon
descends into a wash (dry, flat watercourse). The stream channels are currently
dry. I look for any signs of long-lingering
moisture, and we do actually find moss below some bushes down in the
bottomland. Wildflowers are not all in full bloom yet, but lupine,
desert poppies and other low plants and some of the cacti are in flower.
We also see small lizards and a grasshopper.
Many saguaros have round holes about 4 to 7 inches in diameter. I
never saw any birds enter the cavities in the cacti, but occasionally see
birds perched on the tops.
Grand Canyon
On the way to the Grand Canyon the habitat zone shift is dramatic and exactly
as my biologist daughter had outlined for us.
Driving north the increasing latitude also brings increased
altitude:
· Tall saguaro; desert plants; dry (1500’)
· Short saguaro; prickly pear; desert
plants; still very dry (2500’)
· Juniper, prickly pear predominantly
(3000’)
· Sagebrush; some woody plants (4000’)
· Arid again, high plateau with cattle
grazing (5000')
· Ponderosa pine; creeks with flowing
water; a transition zone (6000’)
· Thicker forests; pines; some snow (7000’)
At the Grand Canyon we get advice from the Park Information Desk
and decide that the South
Kaibab
Trail is the least icy and treacherous. Ice remains long in trails in the
South Rim because most parts are north-facing.
The Sun had penetrated enough in the highest altitudes of the
trail so that it is manageable. The trail is not quite as scary as we
had thought. The footways on the Park trails are usually fairly wide (6 or 8 feet),
decently graded,
and sloped away from the precipice. The gradualness of the
slope is to accommodate pack animals. Usually there is a solid cliff
wall
to one side to concentrate on, instead of the 2 or 3 thousand foot drop on
the other side!
In only a very few short places is there a dropoff on both
sides.
After a while we get accustomed even to that, and gain confidence. The
only really hairy part is the beginning where remnant ice, covered with mule
dung, made for delicate footwork (although I suppose the mule dung helped
too, by darkening some of the ice and speeding the melting).
We don’t descend all the way to the Colorado River –
just to Cedar Ridge, elevation 6060 feet, about 1100 feet down, where we
stop for lunch. There are hitching posts there – showing that
animals would be led or ridden later in the season. We see ravens and two Western scrub jays. My wife
sees a California condor. Though rare,
there have been releases of these giant birds into the wild from the North
Rim, and we are confident this was one of them. I identify a chickadee
by song. But it must be a western species, as its song is
noticeably slower than that of our black-capped chickadees.
Sedona and Oak
Creek Canyon
On the drive back we take the “scenic”
route, a long, mountainous descent on a spectacular road that
descends the Oak Creek Canyon, a mid-sized version of the Grand. Twisty
turns, switchbacks and steep dropoffs all add to the drama (and barely
controlled terror) of the ride down to Sedona from Flagstaff.
An interpretive sign says that flora and fauna from three
habitats can be found in the unique valley formed by this particular
canyon due to the varied altitude and soil types, and its North-South orientation: desert,
semi-temperate, and water-loving. It is almost homelike in the
bottom half of the drive, as we are surrounded by fairly tall tees and
shrubs which hug the banks of Oak Creek, freely flowing with
actual water in it! We remark that it was like a New England
gorge.
The backdrop of the city of Sedona is a group of some spectacular
red-rock mesas.
Lost Dutchman
State Park
We camp in Lost Dutchman State Park one night. It is
named for a successful gold miner from the Netherlands who eventually
disappeared, along with all knowledge of the location of his big
find. The place is full of mystery. For our evening walk we
make it up part way up the slope of the red-rock Superstition Mountains in
the Tonto National Forest behind and adjacent to the state park. They
virtually shine in the pre-sunset alpenglow. Big rock formations
with imaginative names, e.g. Praying Hands, Green Rock, and Flatiron look
down on us.
Returning later we are rewarded by the celestial sights.
Despite the great light-loom from metro Phoenix, we see five visible
planets: Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn. The late evening
desert quiet is welcome after the noise of the city.
Peralta Trail
The hike in Tonto National Forest up to
Fremont Saddle (3640') in the Superstition Mountains, is a very lovely desert experience, and a
highlight of the trip, despite the record-breaking late March temperatures (about
93° even up high). The bottom half of the trail follows Peralta
Creek. The flora along it are
fascinating. It is incongruous to see running water in the
desert trailside. We are grateful that this mountain stream offers occasional and welcome cooling
splashes. Halfway up, its flow disappears below the surface. On the way we hear crickets, see
a family of partridges – or similar birds – crossing the trail, and see
water-striders in the pools of the creek.
An unanticipated benefit of this trip is that I finally get to see back
roads and a sample of the back country, a side of Arizona that I had been seeking.
Boyce Thompson Arboretum
State Park
We visit an elaborate arboretum
near Superior, Arizona which offers a great walk, and the sight of many,
many labeled species of trees, shrubs, and cacti, all in their various
respective environments. The highlight is the second half of
the walk where we descend among rocks to a creek and enter
a desert riparian environment both planted and unplanted.
Catalina State
Park
One night we camp in a beautiful park at the foot of the
Santa Catalina Mountains. We hear
crickets, just a few, singing slowly, about 2 chirps per second.
Following the rule of subtracting 45 from the number of chirps per
minute, it comes pretty close to the actual temperature of
73°! We see a bat fly over, the second seen on this trip, and
are glad to have her catching the few mosquitoes around. An owl calls softly "Hoo-hoo.
Hoo-hoo-hoo-hoot?"
In the morning we climb up into the Coronado
National Forest, home of mountain sheep and mountain lions. We
see neither, but encounter lizards who seem genuinely curious about us and
do not flee at our approach. (They are not poisonous). On the Romero
Trail we go way up and encounter pools in a high mountain stream -- a good place to stop for refreshment.
After we leave the Park we head down to Tucson. Along
the way we see big irrigated fields, some
already vivid green with a low dense crop. We're told it could be
soy or cotton. Other fields are tilled but are still bare earth. In
other places there are plantations of trees, each about 20'-30'
high, in neat rows. I guess that they are nut trees and a local person confirms they are most likely pecans.
Some stories
Here is my initial and lasting impression from our
first morning: it is the birds! The sound of birds, plentiful
and rich, is unexpected, but so welcome. My notion of the desert
was that it is totally silent, but I am happily proved
wrong. That morning I see a black bird of the shape, color and
size of a crow, but his calls and songs are all musical and uncrowlike.
It is a magpie! Also there are mourning doves, chipping sparrows,
and mocking birds. We hear a call or song that was familiar to
me from
the bird song tapes, but I couldn’t quite place it. My daughter
identifies it as a woodpecker, probably a flicker...
In the early evening
while we are camped in Catalina State Park an emergency vehicle's siren is
heard wailing in the distance. Soon another, but puzzling sirenlike sound
is heard from the woods behind us. After a couple of minutes the
vehicle is closer on the distant highway and again sounds the siren, which
is much more audible. It is answered by yips, howls and wails. Now
I'm catching on to what is happening. One last time, much clearer and
louder the siren goes by. It is hilariously answered by what appears
to be two separated packs of coyotes having a rip-roaring old time. A
yowling party erupts that lasts a couple of minutes...
The palm trees seen growing in
the cities are all non-native transplants! I am reminded of the stereotypical
desert oasis scene, and that makes it seem more credible: they need
heat AND water.
Dialects
The mockingbirds look like mockingbirds, and sing like
mockingbirds (giving the customary 3 or more repetitions of each song
phrase that distinguishes them from other imitator birds). But their
songs are almost all different from the ones in Maine. I guess they
are sort of avian tape recorders, and thus are rendering the birds'
version of the local hit songs!
A vision of the past
We visit Casa Grande
Ruins National Monument. There are remains of two- and four-story
wattle and adobe buildings. They are not cliff dwellings, but
self-standing structures in the middle of the desert. The occupants
left suddenly around 1400 AD. Archaeology shows they had a thriving
community life and grew bountiful
crops of squash, beans and other legumes. They had dug wells to
depths no greater than 10 or 12 feet, where they found reliable water in
those days. Now the water table is 100 feet or more down! Climate
change? The modern drawdown from Arizona's great and thirsty
cities?
Back home
It's odd to say, but when I returned to Maine and thought about all the
new and curious things I had seen and heard, the feeling of strangeness
mostly subsided and I was left with a sense of familiarity. It was
as if Arizona would welcome me back.
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