Clock Out, Click In

Dawn Hike to Wasson Peak in the Tucson Mountains

A dawn hike to Wasson Peak seemed like a good idea until I  drive down the Gates Pass switchbacks in the pre-dawn pitch dark. That's just after inching around a pre-dawn cyclist on the switchbacks going up the pass.

By the time I reach the trailhead, pitch black turns dark gray and my hiking partner Ellen arrives to begin our ascent.

Yellow wildflowers line the trail. Some bunches are asleep and closed, some half open, waiting for the light and warmth of the sun.

The sky lightens, and the sun pinks up Wasson Peak ahead.

Wasson is the highest peak in the Tucson Mountains, at about 4800 feet.   I'm a Tucson native, but never hiked to the top, and I'm excited to be doing it on a weekday morning.   Weekends are filled with book and biking events, so I'm squeezing in a mini-adventure in the middle of my work week.  Ellen and I estimate our six-mile round trip hike will take about four hours.

"It looks like it might be seven miles," says Ellen after reading a trail sign. As usual, the marker indicates different mileage and our maps from two different sources also fail to agree on exact mileage.

For the first hour and a half, we're in the shade of the valley as the King Canyon Trail follows the drainage. But we can feel the earth and rocks radiating heat from yesterday's sun.

Light skips along the  foothills below.

At last, the light hits us, and the bouquets of flowers along the trail.

We join the Sweetwater Trail and continue up, steeper and a bit rockier.  At this elevation, spikey shindaggers mingle with saguaros. Swtichbacks aplenty. And I'm distracted by all the wildflowers, so Ellen gets ahead of me on a hill.

We reach the saddle where the Hugh Norris Trail intersects and try to figure out which deer path heading left or right  is our "trail." Realizing our error, we head back down the trail a hundred yards or so, read the trail marker arrow correctly this time, and reach the spur trail to Wasson. We follow the ridge top with 360 degree views.

Sooner than expected, we're at the top! Picture Rocks flattens out below with the farm fields of Marana beyond. That's not smog in northern distance, we call it "haze." You know, dust.

Time for a peak pose:

A quick snack and we head down.  After we leave the breezy ridge, we start to feel the heat of the morning, and it's only 8:30 am! In March!  A few groups of hikers are on their way up--natives wearing floppy hats and long sleeves,  pink tourists in tank tops and shorts. Everyone is sweating.

On our way down, we notice fenced off mine shafts and more colors bursting from the trailside.

From the lower elevation of saguaros and ocotillos, we look back at Wasson Peak,  with a brilliant blue backdrop.

We see saguros from different angles on the way down and note a Cactus Wren highrise:

We're back at the car by 10 am, and I make it to work in time for my 11 am meeting. It's a fantastic start to the day,  getting plenty of fresh air and sunshine, flowers and cacti.  A fine morning of sharing trail tales and dreams with hiking partner Ellen.

 Trail Details: Start at King Canyon Trail head, dirt lot on north side of Kinney Road, just west of Desert Musuem entrance.  We went out and back, but loops are possible with Sendero Esperanza Trail or Gould Mine Trail. This route is in Tucson Mountain Park and Saguaro National Park.  Click here for a map.

Scouting the Arizona Trail: Hike and Bike

"This is dicey," says Lee who asked me to join him on a scouting trip to relocate the Arizona Trail near Patagonia.  He's describing anything from steep slopes to rock to canyon fins that end with no way down to the bottom.  His friend Jay, who has US Forest Service trailbuilding experience, joinsus to find the perfect place for a relocated AZ Trail.

Ridgetop view of Santa Rita Mountains foothills.

The trail currently travels seven boring  miles on a fire service road out of Patagonia, then  passes  through the Mt. Wrightson Wilderness for a few miles. The section is extremely steep for through-hikers and mountain bikers aren't allowed on Wilderness trails.  It's Passage #4 of the Arizona Trail in the eastern foothills of the Santa Rita Mountains. Our mission: find a route that is kind to both hikers and mountain bikers.

Jay and Lee ride mountain bikes along a cattle trail.

Lee laid a GPX track using Topofusion, and we're following it on his handheld GPS.  From the Forest Service road, we drive about a mile down a jeep trail just west of the Patagonia landfill. We optimistically start on our bikes thinking the ATV trails Lee found on aerial maps will be suitable for riding. The ridable ATV track becomes a cattle track then devolves into off-camber loose dirt. We soon stash the bikes and continue on foot, along a barbed wire ridge line. It's all Coronado National Forest, but ranchers still like to put up fences to mark their grazing rights.

Lee and Jay hike the fence line with Mt. Wrightson in the distance.

Thanks for turning around, guys!

We walk above Stephens Canyon, searching for a good way to get north and west toward Tunnel Spring or the flume trail, both in Gardener Canyon.

"A Sweco could build this trail in no time, " says Lee. "Yes, but they're hard to find," agrees Jay. Sweco is trail building speak for a small bulldozer-like machine that can operate on mountain slopes. It's an agile trail-building machine, perfect for this rough ground.

"How about a 6," jokes Jay. He's talking about a Caterpillar 6 Bulldozer, that is far too big for this work. I learn all about Swecos and 6s and 9s during the course of the day--what they can do, how much they weigh.

"This is good," exclaims Lee when we come upon a jeep road. We follow the jeep road for awhile and check out an old CCC dam in the distance with a large pool of water behind it.

The CCC dam and tank are at the bottom of these cliffs, wiht Mt. Wrightson above. Manzanita in the foreground.

The jeep trail has lulled us off our GPX track and now we need to find a way down into Little Casa Blanca Canyon. Unfortunately, the direct path leads through an ocotillo and shindagger forest.

We're through the ocotillo, but Lee and Scott pick their way down the shindagger slope.

We cross the bottom of the canyon with its few small pools of water, and Lee heads up the other side.

Another hard rock and shindagger slope out of Little Casa Blanca Canyon.

We reach Casa Blanca Canyon and realize we're still over a mile from where Lee had hiked north from Gardener Canyon on a previous scouting trip. Time for lunch and time to rethink our goals for the day. I admit that my energy is waning. "Ok, we can go back and scout some other sections on the way back," agrees Lee.

Lee remarks that this section with its purple gray rock could be some fun slickrock for mountain bikers; however, it's fairly remote.  After lunch, we push on a little bit farther north for a better sense of where the trail should go.  Then we head back and I wonder if this will be another "hike a bike" section of the Arizona Trail--on the steep slopes in and out of Casa Blanca and Little Casa Blanca Canyons.

Jay and Lee descend into Casa Blanca Canyon with a fair amount of water flowing.

We hike out of one canyon along a horse and cattle route, and note that the Marlboro man has left his cigarette butt here.  Jay teaches Lee how to use a Clinometer to determine the slope here, it's about 10% which is at the upper end of the standard slope for a hiking and biking trail.

Lee uses a Clinometer to ascertain slope suitability for a trail.

We reach the top of the ridge and explore other possible trail connections to the forest service road. We walk down a slope, cross the sandy stream bottom, and head back up a rather steep slope. My calves, which have been asking me politely to stop for the past hour, now start screaming. "Only two more minutes," I tell them.

Lee and I reach the ridge line trail, Jay continues below, off-camber, searching for a perfect contour line for his dreamed of "bench trail." He reminds me of Spiderman, sticking to the side of the steep hill. As he remarked early in the day: "One mile of bench takes just as much time as 100 yards of switchback." Bench trails are also easier to ride.

We're all on top of the ridge line again, heading back to our bikes. We search the hills south for possible easy trail routes from the fire road.  We spent almost all day scouting on foot, or "boots on the ground is the best," as Jay puts it. "We did some good work today," agrees Lee.

On our bikes, it takes us only ten minutes to get back to the car--smooth descending through the late afternoon sun, with 360 degree views of mountain ranges and hills. A glorious ending to a productive day.

Jay and Lee happily back on their bikes.

On my drive home, I saw the full moon rise over the Rincon Mountains.

 

 

Hike to Tucson's Bridal Wreath Falls

I celebrate the new year by hiking to a waterfall in the desert. Douglas Springs Trail, on the northern edge of Saguaro National Park East, begins at the parking lot at the east end of Speedway in Tucson. We head into the rolling foothills of the Rincon Mountains, through saguaro cactus forests punctuated by cholla, prickly pear, and palo verde trees.

Two women on horses pass by on a switchback, amazingly sure-footed creatures on the rocky narrow trail.

 

Part of the trail.

A 9 am start this time of year normally means cooler weather, but I immediately regret the fleece sweatshirt and tie it around my waist. Off comes the winter "technical" long sleeve T-shirt and I'm happy in my power purple "Democracy Now" T-shirt. Thank you KXCI radio!

We're an hour in and it must be 75 degrees already! After climbing and sweating, my long pants come off--thank goodness I remembered to pack shorts. My wiser hiking companion Lisa opted for zip-off pants.

We come to a stream and Lisa soaks her feet for further natural cooling. I assure her that the climbing is almost done, much as I assured her "there's not much climbing in this hike," earlier. How the mind forgets.

Other hikers explore the slick rocks on the stream edge, with view of Tucson beyond:

After another 20 minutes or so along the stream drainage, the trail crosses a flattish meadow with beautiful views of the Catalnia Mountains.

We head south along the Bridal Wreath Falls spur trail, through shady sections of old mesquite and Mexican Oak. Shade, love the shade. A horse whinnies and soon we come upon the horses in the back country hitiching post--hikers only the rest of the way to the falls.

Saguaro cactus finds purchase in cliff above the falls.

Soon, we're scrambling up streambed boulders with water gushing by. This is the most water I've ever seen here, thanks to early winter snow at higher elevations.  We see one horsewoman sporting chaps and salt and pepper hair barely held back by her cowboy hat. Lisa tells her that the horses didn't seem too happy being tied up, they were talking. She replies: "We needed a rest. They're making us work too hard!"

We sit in the cool shade, drinking in wonder of the waterfall that seems to burst from the sun at the top of the 50-foot cliff.

  

Bridal Wreath Falls in video action.

Other hikers are there and explore the top of the falls, we can't drag ourselves from the lovely cove.

 

Hikers above the falls.

I crawl behind the waterfall and attempt a few photos, they turn out badly. But here's a view north from the falls:

Behind the waterfall.

I remember hikes out here with my cousin Jim before he passed away. Once to the falls with his partner Ellen when we devoured Clementines on a Christmas Day hike. Another time in the spring, we hiked toward Douglas Spring Campground until a surprise spring snowstorm turned us back.

Today, New Year's Day 2012, no chance of snow. It's so hot, I  feel my forearms sizzling and I apply more sunscreen. Coming out of the waterfall cove, we pass streamside saguaro and ocotillo:

On the way back, I join Lisa for the foot soak in the glacial stream. My feet are hot, but too tender to handle the icy water for very long.

 

We see more and more hikers coming in as we descend through the ocean of saguaros.

We reach the car and devour cheese puffs, a post-hike reward that satisfies the salt craving.

Happy New Year from Tucson!

Easy Pima Canyon Hike

We hit the Pima Canyon trailhead promptly at 9:45 am, eager to take advantage of what could be the last cool weekend in Tucson.  We were bundled in jackets; the mountains, bundled in fog. A chilly April Sunday morning at 45 degrees.

  
Clouds roll over the mountains with spiny cholla in the foreground.

Way up the canyon, snow covers the peaks while ocotillo cacti bloom bright orange in the desert on the way to the canyon trail.

 

Octotillo blossoms.

We crossed the dry Pima Creek and continued on the trail up the canyon. It's been a dry winter, so not too many flowers blooming this spring. We saw some thistle and penstemon.

Thistle in the desert.

Arty blurred photo of trailside penstemon.

After Saturday's rain, the Sunday desert smelled fresh and beautiful with sage, creosote, and an unidentified vaguely minty scent.

We easily identified other hikers as locals or visitors by their hiking garb. Visitors were outfitted for safari with wide brimmed hats, SPF shirts and pants, walking sticks. Visitors limited themselves to one color: khaki. Locals dressed in jackets and even gloves, Tucsonans are not hearty when it comes to the cold. We dressed in layers and continually took them on and off through elevation changes, clouds, wind, and bright sunshine.

Snack time view, with desert trees in spring green.

We walked for about an hour, had a snack,  enjoyed the view and headed back out. We noticed some water in portions of the creek bed, but it didn't seem to be flowing. Perhaps the water has already gone underground for the summer.

Mighty saguaro.

 The trail traced the edge of the Coronado National Forest with subdivisions down the hill to our left and rocky slopes up the mountains on our right.  I inhaled deeply and zipped my jacket against the increasing wind. I am happy to be living so close to such a great trail!

Hiking Sycamore Canyon Near Tucson

Mountain lion warning signs greeted us, as is often the case in the Catalina Mountains these days, at the trailhead. "There've been sightings at Molino Basin," says Nina about the campground about two miles down the mountain from us. "Yeah, there were four of them a few weeks ago at Sabino Canyon," I add helpfully.

Sycamore Reservoir trail begins at Gordon Hirabayashi campground on Mt. Lemmon Highway. I'm joined by humans Lisa and Nina, and dogs Sophie and Shadow. It's one of the few places in the Catalina's where dogs are allowed on the trail. We'll follow the Sycamore Reservoir Trail (#39) to the Arizona Trail west and north for a couple miles, and return the same way.

 

Sophie, the alpha dog on the trail.

Shadow says: "I 'm not a corgi, I am mutt."

Our desination is the reservoir built in the 1940s to supply water to the Catalina Federal Prison Camp on the highway to Mt. Lemmon. Inmates here included 40 Japanese-Americans, Hopi Indians, and Jehovah's Winessess who were conscientious objectors and others convicted of breaking federal immigration or tax laws. The prisoners built the Catalina Highway that was completed in 1951.

We amble along an old jeep road toward a gap in the nearby hills. We cross a stone bridge, and we're surprised to see glamour shots strewn about the shrubbery.

"Is that Fonzi," asks Nina. "No, it's John Travolta," says Lisa. "Someone must really like him." Three photos of John Travolta, lovingly encased in plastic sheaths,welcome hikers about half a mile into the hike.

 
John, in branches.

 As we approach the gap, we meet two other hikers on their way back. They chat with Nina about how far it is to this and that point, how maps are incorrect, how the GPS strapped to his walking stick is correct, knee surgery, and the like.

 

Nina, in orange,  guesstimates trail mileage for weary hikers.

We continue the mild climb up to the gap and are rewarded with an expansive view of Sycamore Basin, and a sign telling us we are on the Arizona Trail.

 

We head down the AZ Trail, then choose an older trail that forks off of it, because Nina hasn't been on the fork. There was also the old road option, which had been proposed earlier to other hikers with bad knees. Lisa and I haven't been on any of these trails, so we really don't care. Plus, the dogs already headed down the fork.

 

Nina and Lisa walking into Sycamore Basin.

At last, we reach the cool canyon and Sycamore Reservoir. Ash and Cottonwood trees change the trail climate from dry to damp. Smells of lush vegetation surround us rather than drifting by on the breeze. Morninglory blossoms have died en masse  from a couple nights of sub-freezing temperatures, but Indian paintbrush survies.

Indian paintbrush flourishes near the reservoir.

We follow the trail, now narrowed by vegetation, walking over branches and roots. I imagine a cool pool ahead for a splash, or even a dip. Instead, the fetid water behind the reservoir barely moves; there's been no rain for a long time. So I focus on the more appealing downstream side of the reservoir, where fresh spring water trickles from the cliffs.

 

Thimble Peak peeks from the south end of  Sycamore Canyon.

 

 This canyon stream eventually joins Sabino Creek.

We take a snack break on the remants of reservoir infrastructure and wonder what it looks like when there's more water here.  Nina gives her dogs some water and Lisa tempts them with carrots. They spit out the carrots. It's chilly in the shade and rested, we decide to head back. But first we explore upstream, where the water disappears underground and the AZ Trail contiues west and north to the top of the Catalina Mountains.

"Is that Wilderness of Rocks," I ask Nina who knows this territory. She's not sure, so we look at the map. We're in an open area where a couple streambeds come together. We can see the Seven Cataracts Vista Point on the Catalina Highway, but not the Cataracts. I see the more highway in mountain above, as the road switchbacks to Windy Point. "No, that's not Wildreness of Rocks," says Nina. "It's much higher up."   

Not Wildreness of Rocks, just an unnamed bouldery ridgeline.

 After assorted map consultation and mountain viewing, we turn up and out of the canyon. Two trail runners run up the sandy stream bed, looking lost. "The trail is over there, see the cairns" I point.   A breathless "thanks," and they're back on the right trail.

We're soon out of breath on the way out. It's always steeper on the way back!  The formerly dashing dogs slow to a walk. They walk ahead, then lay down to rest in the shade until we catch up.

We pass two hunters with camoflauged backpacks and floppy sun hats. I ask how long they've been backpacking. "We've been out here four days."  Of course, I didn't realize they were hunters, but Lisa later says,"Didn't you see their guns?!" So much for my obervation powers. I'm busy enjoying the sky and hills.

But wait a second, I have hiked this trail before! I see stone pillars that used to support water supply pipes and recall a Christmas Day hike with my family here about seven years ago.My 80-year-old dad had wisely rested and waited for us at the top of the gap instead of descending into the basin. That day, we hiked in an inch or so of snow, and determined it was too cold to make it to the reservoir.  I remember beautiful blue skies, brilliant white snow, and cold wet socks.

At last, we're through the gap and on the descent back to the parking area. We spend a few moments with John Travolta, and the hunters catch up. "These pictures were here four days ago," they say. "I kinda want to take this home," says one hunter holding a picture. We continue on, so we don't know if he kept his trail souvenier.

We've hiked about six miles in three and a half hours in the cool sunshine of a Catalina Mountain autumn day, tired out Nina's dogs for her, and made plans to hike together again soon.

 

No mountain lions on our trail today!

 

Sedona Hike and Bike

Red dirt isn't any softer than beige dirt I learn when a juniper tree grabs my handlebar and flings me to the ground below Courthouse Butte near Sedona, Arizona.

 
Courthouse Butte looms over junipers and pinons.

Up to that moment, I enjoyed the easy trail, the red cliffs framed against the brilliant blue sky, wildflowers, and surprise cacti beneath the pines.

 
Hedgehog cactus displays fuchsia flowers

 
White flowers of daisy variety and not so soft red dirt.

I ride assorted trails between Courthouse Butte and Bell Rock, including the Bell Rock Pathway which feels like a city sidewalk busy sidewalk with all the vortexing tourists from around the world.

 
Bell Rock Pathway and Tourist Superhighway

Bell Rock is a vortex that has "masculine electrical energy" according to the helpful Sedona Vortex Map given to us at the hotel. We stay near the Airport Rock vortex, but don't feel too much of anything except fear that we will run over meandering hikers on the shoulderless road up Airport Hill.

 
Vortices aplenty in Sedona.

Bell Rock with the edge of Courhouse Butte on the right.

 
Lovely yellow flowers pop up everywhere in Sedona.

After riding around Bell Rock, I choose the Llama Trail over the Baby Bell trail, and I'm happy to be alone and headed into the pines. I cross slickrock areas, dry creeks, and ride on rocky trails into the shade. I see the back of Courthouse Butte and gaze north across the valley to other beautiful rock formations around Sedona, including the massive Cathedral Rock.

HIKING

Scenic and shady, the  HT Trail Loop hike transports us from the agony of the freeway to the peaceful beauty of the high desert on our first afternoon in Sedona. It's an easy hike that could also be part of an extended mountain bike ride in the Bell Rock Area.

On another hot afternoon, we headed north to Oak Creek Canyon with about a million other people and found the access parking lot closed. Determined, we drove north and parked on the side of the road behind other cars, and asked some teenagers how to get to the creek. "Oh! you just go through this tunnel right here, and climb down to a great swimming hole." Teenagers always know. After climbing down the near vertical cliff, we found a beautiful place to take a dip in Oak Creek's ice cold water, then lounge in the sun.

The final day in Sedona, we explored Brins Mesa Trail which took us high above Sedona and over the ridge to see nothing but wilderness. On the way back, we saw Mitten Rock.

 
Brins Mesa Trail view of Mitten Rock.

Breezes cooled us on top of the mesa, but soon we headed back down into the heat and the familiar desert flora. An excellent weekend of biking, hiking, and splashing!

 

Crawdad Canyon Hike in Patagonia, AZ

On a Saturday hike, I don’t see the promised water, “all I see is damp sand,” I say to Meg.  Meg claims “there was water here last month.”  We’re hiking in a drainage off of Temporal Canyon just west of the Patagonia landfill, and east of the Mt. Wrightson Wilderness. As people who have lived in Arizona for quite a few years, you’d think we’d know that water wets some streams only briefly. 

 
Thistle, but we're not in Scotland. 

The amateur botanists among us discuss flower phyla attempting to identify unknowns.

 
Botanists identify flowers. 

“Hey, a poppy,” I remark.

 
Poppies, just like the Wizard of Oz. 

 
Datura, or maybe some flower that looks like Datura. 

I'm happy to be among desert wildflowers and walking with friends in a new place. We pass beneath ash trees and Mexican oaks, and  a gray hawk rides the sky above.  We find Meg’s promised water, and follow the wash upstream. A certain NOLS graduate among us briefly expresses concern that we are not on a jeep road or a trail, that we need to be careful and not get lost, and we remind her that we can follow the stream back.

I’m a little ahead of the group and I see something unexpected in the stream.

 
Don't these things live in the ocean?

Andy removes it for further examination.

 

 
Hello little crawdad!

Andy returns the crawdad to its home, a home that could dry up any week now.

In another stream, we check out a swimming lizard (alas, no lizard photo, but it was there, I swear!).

 
Hikers discuss swimming lizard. 

We are back on an old jeep road and follow it to the ridge top and a mine shaft.  “What was mined here?” I ask a local. “All kinds of things,” she responds.   A little copper, a little silver, everything is  mixed together in these rocky hills.

 

 
Prickly pear reclaims old mine shaft.  

We gaze across the valley to Red Mountain in the east and try to pick out buildings we know in Patagonia. We walk back through the cool of the canyon, enjoy chocolate among the penstemon, then trudge up the hill to the heat of Temporal Road and our cars.

 
Penstemon in the luscious shade.

We  christen the walk: “Crawdad Canyon Hike.”

 
 

 

Thursday Night Sunset/Moonshadow Hike

I join tourists and Saguaro National Park rangers one late afternoon for an easy sunset hike in the Tucson Mountain District part of the Park.    

 
Saguaro arms droop due to loss of moisture.

Prickly pear cacti compose the foreground; the moon is

in the sky above purple woman's head.

The volunteer ranger gives me a refresher course on many cacti and trees during the first hour or so of the hike along the bajada. The bajada is a gradual slope created over time by water depositing rock and sand on the sides of mountains. People in other places call these alluvial fans. But here, it’s a bajada.

 

 
Bajada view, with prickly pears and saguaros.

 

 
The Arizona state tree is the Palo Verde. Who needs leaves when

your branches and trunk can photosynthesize? 

 

The Ironwood Tree's wood is so heavy that it sinks in water. 

 

Chain fruit cholla is also called "jumping cholla" because it breaks

off easily. It is hard to detach from hands, shoes, and other apparel. 

 

  
Buckthorn cholla is also sharpish.

 

Some of the tourists have been here before, and enjoy displaying their knowledge, “This is a good example of cactus boot.” A cactus boot is a place where the saguaro woodpecker carves out its house in cactus.  To self-medicate, the saguaro oozes a special sap around the hole to create a “boot,” protection against the elements, and against all the other birds and insects that come dwell in the boot after the woodpecker departs.

 

Owl in a sagauro boot (photo from Symphonies of the Desert website). 

 

 
Flickers (birds) ate around the flesh of this saguaro,

no amount of sap could repair the damage. 

 

We leave the bajada and start climbing switchbacks. Our volunteer ranger, and former geology professor, excitedly tells us about the differences between granite and lava.  It all looks pretty much the same to me, different shades of gray and brown. My eyes glaze over. Then he mentions that the green moss we see on the side of these rocks was brown just one month ago. We’ve had quite a bit of rain lately, and the spindly ocotillos sprout bright green leaves, and this moss has been resurrected. In fact, when this moss is brown, you can splash some water on it and it turns green instantly. Thus the name: Resurrection Moss.

  
Resurrection Moss is greener than it appears in this picture. 

 

At a switchback overlook, he points out Twin Peaks off in the distance. But there is only one peak, the other peak was mined for limestone, thanks to the Portland Cement Company. When they started on the other peak, the company discovered that it was a harder type of rock that broke their drills. Serves them right.  A fault line ran between the peaks, so the composition was completely different.  The rock of the second peak was lava. Oh, we’re back to lava again. We continue hiking up the switchbacks.

 
Hedgehog cactus growing on rocky slope.

 

We reach our sunset view destination and settle down for a blaze of orange, pink, and purple, with just the right amount of wispy clouds. We snack, we drink, and chat a bit.

 
Sunset.

 

Ten degrees north and a few minutes later.  

 

We start to head down, and it seems like it’s getting really dark, really quickly. I have my headlamp at the ready, but no one else seems to need illumination. We walk down the switchbacks, but it doesn’t get that much darker. Surprisingly, twilight changes not to black, but to a bright moonlight. The moon rises high enough to cast shadows of us on the side of the trail. No one turns on a flashlight.

The moon gets brighter and brighter, and my mood is better and better.  I hear coyotes, I see Orion in the sky and beautiful saguaros in the moonlight. I’ve ambled a little over three miles with no other goal except to watch the sun set. I feel at home and happy.

 

Saguaro National Park East (Rincon Mountain District) and West (Tucson Mountain District) host evening hikes through March; for information, visit Guided Programs.