Tucson Mountain Park, I Hardly Knew Ye

 

OUCH. 

As a young, fairly penniless graduate student at Tucson's University of Arizona, I had a job that helped make ends meet. I worked for Pima County Parks & Recreation transplanting cactus (huh?) from the impending blading of the desert for construction of the Central Arizona Project water canal to revegetate trampled areas adjacent to roads in Tucson Mountain Park. My co-worker and now good friend Dianna and I worked fairly solo, with park staff Billy and Manuel checking up on us on occasion. 

But worse were glochid hairs (photo credit)

The labor was pretty intense for two gals in their 20s: use pickaxe and shovel to dig out cactus from the canal location, truck them to the park, and re-vegetate designated areas by using above tools to break through caliche and hard crusty rock to put these things back in the ground. Spines, and worse, glochids (masses of fine but strong hairs), would embed themselves into our backs and arms and break off, requiring constant daily tweezing or endless festering.  

But we couldn't complain, really. We weren't sitting at a desk filing papers or answering telephones, we were physically active at one of the most beautiful places on Earth: Tucson Mountain Park. It was fantastic; I had a full year to observe daily changes in light and rainfall, flushes of wildflower and cactus blooms, the survival of same plants through the hot and dry months...it was breathtaking and well worth the cactus wounds and tired muscles. 

Not a bad "office"

Since then (we're talking 35 years ago, egads!), I have made several moves and landed four hours away at my current residence, far enough away from Tucson Mountain Park that it's not a regular place I visit any more. Until now, I felt that my year there gave me what I wanted to learn about that special place, that I "knew" the park, its feel, its landscape, what it wanted to teach me; that any subsequent visit would be like visiting an old friend. I'd say hello and then settle in, comfortable in familiarity.

Until now...

As luck would have it, fellow camping friends Bob and Moira (see my And Carly Too page for our Inaugural Journey and our summer Greer trip) invited us to join them at Tucson Mountain Park for several days of general enjoyment of the Sonoran desert in winter. Bruce and I couldn't say no to that, and after making reservations months in advance (it is the Year of Covid Campers after all), we met up for five days of life in Tucson Mountain Park. 

Nice view from Campsite A-18

WOW. Tucson Mountain Park, I hardly knew ye. I remembered the beauty but realized quickly that I didn't know much else, including the history and naming of features. How the park came to be is a combination of vision, leadership, entrepreneurism, hard work, and a little luck. C.B. Brown, Pima County's first agricultural agent in 1920, proposed removing the mining claims from at-the-time federal land to preserve this area he had come to appreciate for its natural beauty. Brown Mountain and the trail around it is named in his honor. Jack Kinney (of Kinney Road traversing the Park), a Pima County Supervisor at the time, helped Brown set aside and acquire both the current Park and what is now the Tucson Mountain District of Saguaro National Park. J.C. McCain (of McCain Loop Road) was Tucson Mountain Park's first park ranger. Here's a good summary of how one of the largest parks managed by a local government came to be.

Sun rising through Gates Pass

Morning walks with Carly involved PAVEMENT ONLY after
curiosity and sniffing led to a mouthful of cholla cactus

A Verdin waking up in the winter sunshine

Other colorful historic figures include Thomas Gates of Gates Pass, who constructed that pass as a shortcut to his Avra Valley mine from the city of Tucson (for $1,000!), Gilbert Ray (of Gilbert Ray Campground), the first Parks and Recreation Director (1947-1972), and Hal Gras (the namesake for the road leading to Ironwood Picnic Area), who traveled around in a Studebaker with his personal zoo, the Desert Ark, inspiring the world-renowned Arizona Sonora Desert Museum.

Hal Gras's Zoo from a Studebaker
(photo credit AZ Sonora Desert Museum)

One of our days was spent at the Desert Museum, always a fantastic place to visit. Thank you, Kerry, for your hosting and added insights as a Trustee into the history and context of this magical place!

Mexican Gray Wolf, endangered and reintroduced in my neck of the woods

Crested Caracara, a bird of the desert growing more populous in this area

Desert bighorn sheep ewe, one of three sheep at the Museum

A Spiny-tailed Iguana perching in the sun overlooking the sheep

Black Rattlesnake

Thank you for the separate enclosure from Mr. Black Rattler.
Sincerely,
Mr. Gopher Snake

Mexican Leaf Frog

Masked Bobwhite, a rare subspecies of bobwhite, in the Museum aviary.
Attempts at re-populating the species at the nearby
Buenos Aires National Wildlife Refuge continue today.

Besides the array of Sonoran desert critters at the Desert Museum, the park's natural display did not disappoint either:

Black-throated Sparrow

Curve-billed Thrasher

The sweet Phainopepla

A Red-tailed Hawk surveying its domain

And the hiking trails! More trails than I remember. In the years of living in Tucson, I hiked a few, but there are miles more I want to explore. Thanks to our friend Walt, who lives adjacent to the park and has threaded his way up and down and across and back on all of them, I got a taste of the joy of hiking in this phenomenal place. 

Bruce and I explored a bit of the Brown Mountain trail

Awed by these desert sentinels

Stands of Chain-fruit Cholla edged the trail,
we were stunned that mountain bikers raced through with little protective gear!

Walt pointing something out to us (Bob, Chester, Jane, and Moira)

Hiking towards the ridges in the distance

And here we are. Oh, the views!!!

Walt's love of this park is contagious, thank you, dear friend!

We weren't at Tucson Mountain Park long enough to satiate my thirst, and I need more. More of its tranquility, beauty, and peace; more walks along its trails and watching the light change from sunset to moonlight on centuries-old cacti. I am now driven to come back, again and again, because its obvious there's so much more to bring into my soul from this special place. 

Thank you Bob and Moira, for including us in your camping plans and introducing us to your friends Jane and Chester.

Thank you Walt, for your boundless love of the Park and enthusiasm for exploring every inch of it. 

Thank you Kerry, for your visits and as always your informative updates on the fascinating wildlife studies occurring in the Park, especially bobcats.

Thank you Brooke, Fran, Nancy, and Gita for taking the time to swing out to see us and visit! So great to see you all!!!

Trivia Bits:

Saguaro Cactus

More of Tucson Mountain Park resources here and here  and here

Bobcat in Tucson Urban Wildlife Study: here, here, and here

Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum

Jack Kinney of Kinney Road short bio here

Ruminations on Routines

There's something to be said about having a routine. It's a type of security blanket that provides structure to a daily lifestyle and allows one to safely let the mind wander because whatever you're physically doing is rote. How many dreams have been dreamt while brushing your teeth, pumping those legs on the elliptical, or jogging across the country?

Well, maybe not for Forrest!

Our COVID-19 global pandemic has tossed some major wrenches in people's routines. For many, this has been the last thing to worry about as the stress of lost jobs and income, separation from family, exhausting essential work, illness, and even death of loved ones entered our lives. I've heard somewhere that "we're all in the same hurricane, just in different boats," and that rings true to both Bruce and me. We're blessed to be able to play the role asked of us by others suffering much more deeply us: stay home, stay safe, don't add to the overall social burden. We've never felt so lucky to be living on a fixed income, and have vowed to be as low-key and unobtrusive as possible, offering and giving support as much as we can.

Now throw in having a 13-year-old moderately-arthritic dog, Carly, who needs a daily walk (albeit short; one mile tops). Normally, I walk the neighborhood with friends Julie and Glen. As Carly's arthritis has worsened, I would take Carly on a short walk first, and then meet up with Julie and Glen to take a longer walk. I quickly realized it was too easy to blow off Real Walk #2 after the Carly Meander #1 ("think I'm done, have fun on your walk!" texts to Julie were common).

Much easier to jump into the hot tub

One day in Julie and Glen's absence, I decided to try walking Woodland Lake Park, an oasis in the heart of Pinetop-Lakeside. A one-mile paved trail circles Woodland Lake, where families picnic, kids fish, joggers jog, walkers walk, and the mix of wildlife changes daily. Ospreys soar overhead, competing for the same fish swimming cormorants and shoreline anglers seek. Geese and ducks keep their guard up as they shuttle babies from shore to water, and birds like purple martins, Lewis's woodpeckers, western bluebirds, white-breasted nuthatches, and so many more fly within the trees and over the water, snapping up insects and seemingly flying for the sheer joy of it. I tend to avoid the park during the summer as it gets heavy on people, but it is a unique, delightful place. By going there this one time, I shook things up.

I found it enjoyable, peaceful, and relaxing. Two needs were met as well: 1) Carly gets a decent one-miler in with lots of sniffing and exploring; and 2) a longer walk for me is a given, since I'm there and can't rationalize leaving until I circle around a couple extra times (while Carly lounges in the shaded car). It was bit of a shake-up at first for all involved when I started going back a few times each week. My daily connection with Julie changed to every other day, an adjustment for both of us. Bruce, in charge of breakfast in our household, had to shift its timing to allow for my early departure to the park and also for my near two-hour absence from the house and our morning chores. So this change not only affected me -- and Carly -- but others as well. I guess it's a certainty that uncertain times force change in some form. This tiny example showed me that embracing change, which all of us involved did, is much easier than fighting it. It's good practice for whatever more serious changes might be in store for us in the future, right?

A typical sight! 

In the beginning, it was a bit tough to take the extra time to pack up the dog, her walking gear, little bottle of water, and other paraphernalia into the car, and drive 12 minutes (yes, I timed it) to the park, rather than simply walk out the front door and venture down our road. But I persevered, and now I find that I look forward to our morning park walks.

It's nice enough to see the "early" crowd of walkers on a regular basis, as we nod "hello" as we pass each other. However, the biggest reward is observing the near-daily changes in wildlife activity as late winter turned to spring, and spring to summer. One day there were 8 ospreys flying overhead, fishing. The next day, none. But then a few came back, and usually there are at least one or two every morning. One day there are 20 cormorants, the next day only a couple. Where'd the others go, I wonder? Migrating through? I located two Lewis's woodpecker nest cavities after seeing adults swoop in to feed their young. One time, a Lewis's was foraging along the muddy shoreline picking out bugs like a sandpiper; I had never seen that behavior before. And look at those goslings! They've grown so much in the last few days! A few weeks into this new routine, I brought my camera, took some photos, and I was hooked! Looking for that great picture forced me to sharpen my observation skills, and that's only enhanced my experiences at this wondrous piece of the world.

A Double-crested Cormorant, one of many, perch on a branch to dry off feathers.
Look at that blue eye!

Lewis's Woodpecker acting as expected

Lewis's Woodpecker acting unexpectedly like a sandpiper, picking out bugs in the water.

One of many ospreys waiting for the right moment to nab a fish.

I always enjoy watching both purple martins and violet-green swallows zoom into multiple holes in a standing dead tree out on the shoreline. I thought I got a decent photo of the most common, a violet-green swallow, only to find out when I worked on my photos at home, it was the less common tree swallow, cool! Killdeer skitter along the shoreline and great blue herons solemnly stare into the water no doubt mentally visualizing fish to appear. I happened to catch one heron that had caught an enormous bullhead; I have no idea how it would ever consume it. I now look forward to whatever each visit may bring. I've amassed a very nice portfolio of halfway-decent photos of Woodland Lake Park's wild creatures, and more can be found here.

Surprise, it's a tree swallow!

Hen mallard with ducklings.

Awwww, geez.

At least three Canada goose families have made Woodland part of their feeding grounds.
I'm very curious as to where they're nesting!

Great Blue Heron conjuring up a fish.

And one with an actual fish. How does that thing get down that skinny neck???

Killdeer, a plover that is named from its sharp "kill-DEER!" whistle.

Ah, got that purple iridescence on this Purple Martin.
So often these beauties just look black in photographs.

So is this new reality changing your routines? For the most part, I have opened my eyes and heart to absorb a different world. It's not scary, it's not stressful. It's just change. Sometimes, while there are benefits of sticking to a routine, there are also benefits to shaking things up. New sights and sounds expand the brain, and I for one am okay with that. I now wonder: what's next???

An American Coot feeds its fledgling

A backlit cormorant on a stump.

The balancing act of one of many drake Mallards.

One Eared Grebe has been hanging around at the lake for several days.
Its red eye and sideburns are challenging to capture in sunlight.

A Turkey Vulture taking a break from seeking dead things to eat.

A Lewis's Woodpecker takes off just as I clicked the shutter.

Not all beauty at the park lies in birds.
The red of these cactus blooms in this dry, high-elevation forest just pop!