saguaro – Page 2 – On the road with Jim

Gates Pass Dawn Picture of the Week

According to Google Maps, a Phoenican’s drive to Tucson takes an hour and thirty-eight minutes. That’s city hall to city hall, so the time you spend on Interstate 10 is less. It’s probably the most excruciating drive in Arizona. It used to be worse. Back during the oil embargo, when the Feds mandated a 55mph speed limit, it almost took two hours. It was a dangerous trip. The commute was so boring and depressing that people pulled to the side of the road and killed themselves rather than going on. Needless to say, I try to avoid that stretch of highway, and that’s why I haven’t been to Tucson in a decade.

After photographing in Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument last month, I became curious about Tucson’s National Park. Yes, that’s right—a National Park within the Tucson city limits (kind of). As you drive into the old pueblo from the north, there are mountains west of the freeway between Cortaro Road and Speedway Boulevard. Those mountains are the backbone of Saguaro National Park—another prime example of the Sonoran Desert diversity. I have never really visited before, so Queen Anne and I packed up the truck and headed east (or south—whichever direction I-10 goes between Arizona’s capital and its second-largest city).

Organ Pipe Cactus NM and Saguaro NP are quite different even though they share the same desert. Except for a swath of land along the roadsides, almost all of Organ Pipe is Wilderness Area, while Saguaro NP is in the middle of town. There are homes west of the park, so the bordering roads along the north and south side are heavily used by commuters. Saguaro National Park’s wilderness experience is like parking a trailer on the summit of Camelback Mountain. It’s hard to enjoy nature with all that traffic whizzing by.

We spent time exploring the roads surrounding Saguaro NP and the single dirt loop that’s still open from dawn to dusk inside the park. Like Organ Pipe, it’s lovely and very photogenic. The Tucson Mountains are at the park’s core, with Wasson Peak the tallest followed closely by Amole Peak on its western flank. As I said, there’s only one drivable loop road—with a great view from its summit—but there are beaucoups hiking trails throughout the park (if you’re into that sort of thing).

Gates Pass Dawn - Saguaro cacti grow up the side of Bushmaster Peak in dawn's early morning light. — Gates Pass Dawn – Saguaro cacti grow up the side of Bushmaster Peak in dawn’s early morning light.

I shot enough material to tell a story this month in chronological order—a day in Saguaro National Park as it were. I took this week’s featured image in the soft light of pre-dawn—the blue hour. It’s technically not from within the park but was taken from the road along the south side. Speedway Boulevard becomes Gates Pass Road as it heads west toward the Old Tucson movie set. I took this photo at the lookout from the top of Gates Pass. In the image, you can see the copious cacti growing up the slope of Bushmaster Peak—part of the Tucson Mountain Range. I named this image Gates Pass Dawn, and I hope you agree that it’s a great way to start our day of exploring Saguaro National Park.

You can see a larger version of Gates Pass Dawn on its Web Page by clicking here. Come back next week when the sun rises on another image further along the road.

Until next time — jw

Ajo Mountain Picture of the Week

I turned my calendar over this week, and that means a couple of things to me; the best is that it’s the final quarter of 2020. In an average year, the hot weather finally breaks in a couple of weeks, because there’s an Arizona law that prohibits kids from Trick-or-Treating on a hot night. Of course, nothing about this year has been normal, so I’m not holding my breath. The Queen and I are looking forward to opening the house soon, and I’m anxious to take my drone out again and resume filming.

For October’s project, I drove south into the heart of the Sonoran Desert. As I said, we live along the northern edge of the saguaro country. We have a good population here in Congress and Wickenburg, but in other parts of the state, the giant cactus thrives. To show you, I traveled south of Ajo last week and drove the Ajo Mountain Drive loop in the Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument. The road is unpaved, but a sedan will make it as long as it’s not raining.

A couple of years ago, Anne and I visited the monument for the first time. I wanted to take this loop, but we didn’t bring an off-road truck. Plus, when she saw a sign warning of smugglers and illegal aliens, she said no. The park is 10 miles from the Mexican border, and 30 miles south of the old copper mining town of Ajo (evidently the Spanish found wild garlic growing in the area, so that’s how it got the name). The road passes through the middle of the Goldwater Bombing Range, so I’d recommend not stopping along the way to pick wildflowers.

The Monument is the only place where you can see large stands of Organ Pipe Cactus. They’re more common south of the border, but on this side—not so much. The two columnar cacti (saguaro and organ pipe) grow side-by-side throughout the park. With the dry summer that we’ve had this year, I was pleased to see that the specimens in the monument looked healthy and watered. The rain patterns in lower Pima County are different from home, and they had a better monsoon than we did. The cacti are packed in down there—if you could ever call a desert lush, Organ Pipe would be an example.

Ajo Mountain - The volcanic peak rises above its foothills in the Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument. — Ajo Mountain – The volcanic peak rises above its foothills in the Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument.

Ajo Mountain is the name of this week’s featured image, and in it, I was trying to show two things. They are the volcanic mountain—rising above its surrounding foothills—and how many saguaros are growing per square mile. These giants also seem significantly taller than our home-boys.

You can see a larger version of Ajo Mountain on its Web Page by clicking here. Next week we’ll stop further along the drive and show you the organ pipe cactus from which the monument gets its name.

Until next time — jw

What Happened to You Picture of the Week

Arizona has a reputation for being hot—deservedly so. Especially here in the Sonoran Desert. We frequently make the weather news for hosting the highest temperature of the day—a contest in which Gila Bend and Bullhead City are always locked in battle. For some people, any press is good press.

But as I explore the back roads of our state, I’ve come to the conclusion that the heat here had to be way worse many millennia ago. I came to this conclusion because you can’t walk more than ten steps before you step in a puddle of cooled lava—basalt (cooled quickly on the surface), andesite (mixed cooling), and granite (cooled slowly beneath the surface). Not all of this volcanic activity happened at the same time of, course. Millions of years separated eras of activity. What I’m saying is that, at times, Arizona’s ground heat far exceeded our summer temperatures. It’s probably a good thing that we’re living in this era.

The reason I’m hopped-up on geology this morning is because of the next stop that Queen Anne and I made on our one lap of Harquahala Mountain trip. Near where the Eagle Eye Road intersects with the Salome Highway, a series of volcanic hills line the south side of the road. After getting out and clambering all over them, I decided that they didn’t have star power. They’re interesting, but not that interesting. During my investigation, however, I found this poor little weird saguaro. It had eight new arms growing around it’s lopped off the top—sort of like last month’s headless version. As I got closer, I saw that the new arms were growing from other truncated arms—at least a dozen of them. It was—much like a cat eats grass to settle its stomach—like a T-Rex chomped off its top, so the saguaro put out new shoots. I remember thinking, “What the hell happened to you?” Was this caused by freezing, disease, or repeated lightning strikes? I don’t know, I’ve never seen a saguaro like this.

What Happened to You-a poor little saguaro has arms growing out of damaged arms. What caused this to happen? — What Happened to You -A poor little saguaro has arms growing out of damaged arms. What caused this to happen?

I decided to capture its portrait, and, as I framed it, the hills came in play. I lined up my shot so that the sunlit saguaro was centered on the dark rocks on the outcrop. I was so impressed with how clever I was, I also shot a dead tree and palo verde in the same way, but they didn’t come out as well. I titled this shot What Happened to You, and it’s this week’s featured image.

You can see a larger version of What Happened to You on its Web Page by clicking here. I hope you enjoy viewing it. Join us next week as we finish up our trip around the Harquahala Mountains.

Until next time — jw

BTW: Queen Anne and I wish you and your loved ones Bah Humbug—and similar salutations of the season.

Saguaro at Harquahala Mountain Picture of the Week

I was researching today’s post, and I found some interesting statistics—at least they are for me—and on an online forum thread that made me smile. In case you hadn’t noticed, I like mountains. I like them big or small, a long chain of peaks or lonesome butte, snow-covered volcanoes or desert ranges. I like them because they’re not flat and they’re visually stimulating. You can gauge travel distances with them. I’d be a terrible mariner out on the sea without landmarks. When I travel through Kansas, I have to replace peaks with grain silos.

I want to learn more about what I see and photograph. I want to know the peak names, their heights, their make up, and how they formed. Most of my curiosity is satisfied with topographic maps, but the geology stuff is gobbledygook. I wish there were an easy decoder book written for simpletons like me.

The Harquahala Mountains—the subject of this month’s images—are a substantial range, one of the highest in Arizona’s southwest quadrant. I can see its distinctive round shape from my back porch. I started tagging my films with the name Harquahala Studios because it’s fun to say: HARK—qua-hala. Last week I learned that the name in the Mohave language means “water, up high” presumably from the springs on its slopes—a handy fact to know if you live in the desert.

I Googled “Arizona Mountains” this morning and found it listed in the 5,000-6,000 foot elevation group. To find the exact answer that I wanted would have required more research, spreadsheets, and an effort that cut into my nap, so I gave up. But I saw another question in the list that piqued my curiosity. “Which state is most mountainous?” What’s your guess? Set aside Alaska because they don’t play fair. Is it Colorado, California, or Montana? In the discussion, some people were arguing that it’s West Virginia, which is in the Appalachians, and the highest peak is under 5,000 feet—hardly a mountain. They explained that the little state has the lowest percentage of flat-land, so it’s all mountains, therefore the most mountainous.

The answer wasn’t Colorado; California has 500 more named peaks, and Montana is two-thirds prairie that the locals call West Dakota. The response surprised me, but since I read it on the internet, it must be true. Being entirely comprised of the Great Basin Desert with north-south running ranges, Nevada has the most named peaks in the lower forty-eight. They’re not the highest, but there’s a gob of them.

Saguaro at Harquahala Mountains-A line of saguaro looking like telephone poles lead your eye to the massive mountain south of Aguila, Arizona.

This week’s featured image is called Saguaros at Harquahala Mountain, and I shot it south of Aguila, a few miles south of the Eagle Eye Peaks in last week’s post. What made me stop to take this image was the line of saguaros that looked like a row of telephone poles. They create what’s called a leading-line—a perspective tool that brings your eye into the massive mountain. The clouds and the small Palo Verde tree work to keep your attention in the picture’s center—if it works right, your eye moves in a clockwise circle.

You can see a larger version of Saguaro at Harquahala Mountain on its Web Page by clicking here. I hope you enjoy viewing it. Join us next week as we continue our lap around the Harquahala Mountains, and remind me to stay out of the flooded washes.

Until next time — jw

Crested Saguaro Picture of the Week

Queen Anne and I left The Boulders—the subject of last week’s post—continuing west, and within a mile, we reached the side road to Cochran. It goes north to the ghost town on the Gila Riverbank. Unfortunately, nothing remains except a few foundations and several beehive ovens used to produce coal for the mines. However, the ovens are on the north side of the river, and there isn’t a crossing short of wading through quicksand. I want to reshoot them, but the trail coming in from the north is too much of a challenge for Archie.

The other notable thing about the Cochran intersection is that the Florence-Kelvin Highway becomes paved. That meant we could roll down the windows and pick up the pace, although I’ve never heard of anyone who has ever been in a hurry to get to Florence. The long, straight road follows the gentle western-facing slope into town, and you can’t help but notice how the vegetation packs the desert. Groves of saguaro, cholla, prickly pear, staghorn, and ocotillo make it treacherous to hike cross-country, but there were still cattle out there picking at sparse patches of grass.

The day was late, and there were no impressive mountains around, so I’d given up on photography and was paying attention to the road when I saw something in my periphery that made me skid to a stop.

“What is it? What did you see?” Anne said, waking from her slumber.

“I’ve seen pictures of these, but I’ve never seen one in person. I got to get me a photo,” I was excited and up in the pipes. I grabbed the camera and walked a short distance from the road. Among the dozens of saguaro standing around like they were at a cocktail party was my first crested saguaro. In the evening sun, aglow looked like it had put on a shawl and got a fresh hairdo like it knew I was coming to take its portrait.

Crested Saguaro - My first sighting of a crested saguaro out in the wilds of Pinal County. — Crested Saguaro – My first sighting of a crested saguaro out in the wilds of Pinal County.

Crested saguaros are rare, and no one has a conclusive answer for what happens. Some biologists say lightning strikes, while others guess freezing or genetic mutation. According to the Saguaro National Park Web page, of the thousands of cacti there, only 25 crested ones have been identified. Like humans and snowflakes, the saguaros are unique individuals. I could build a career by photographing them, but better photographers than I have already done that. However, you can bet I’ll collect every crested saguaro I see, like baseball cards.

~~Click here to see a larger version of Crested Saguaro on its Web Page~~. I hope you enjoy viewing it. As you know, Thursday is Thanksgiving, so Queen Anne and I will be surprising a lucky Deneys somewhere in Arizona. If we have too much fun, next week’s post might be late. We’ll be writing about a new road we’ve traveled, so it’ll be worth the wait.

Until next time — jw

Headless Saguaro Picture of the Week

Headless Saguaro - An unusual saguaro that lost its trunk and has six arms instead. I wonder how that could have happened. — Headless Saguaro – An unusual saguaro that lost its trunk and instead has six arms. I wonder how that could have happened.

Several decades ago, there was a miner that lived in a cabin in the desert foothills east of Mesa, Arizona. He was raising three children on his own because the wife took sick with influenza and died. The children were terrified of him because he liked to hide his head under his coat, sneak up behind them, and frighten them with a shriek. “I am the headless horseman, and I’ve come to take you away!” They would always run screaming to the cabin and hide under the bed. He was mean.

One Halloween, there was a knock on the door. When the miner answered it, he was staring into the eyes of an evil witch—his mother-in-law (been there). Because he knew he had done wrong, and realized it was the start of a war of which he wanted no part. He pushed her aside and set off for the town bar. “They’re your charge now,” he yelled back at her as a dream of a new life flashed through his brain.

As he walked away, the children, curious about the commotion, peeked from the bedroom. When they saw it was their grandma, they ran and clung to her skirt. They talked over one another about how mean father had been since mom died. Then, in turn, they each told stories on him. These grievances enraged grandma, and she rose up to a towering height, her skin turned green, and her eyes glowed red—for, after all, she was an actual witch. Because the miner already had a head start, she needed a wand to cast a spell. She searched the kitchen until she found a box of plastic straws. After grabbing one, she ran to the door where she could barely make out the miner’s figure at the far end of the valley. She knew she was clutching at straws, but the witch raised her makeshift wand to the sky and began a dreadful curse. “Since you enjoy the road, your feet will be forever planted there! You will have a pair of arms for each of your babies, but will never get to hold them! Because you conjured a headless horseman to frighten the children, you will lose the empty one you have! You will grow spines to go with your prickly disposition, and your skin will turn green!”

And that’s how Dave—the headless saguaro—came to be at this spot along the Florence-Kelvin Highway. He’ll probably stay here for another couple of centuries, providing a home for Gila Woodpeckers and Pigmy Owls. Dave’s only worries now are housing developers or being struck by lightning a second time. And what about the kids? Oh, grandma moved in and fattened them up with lots of sugar and spice before she shoved them into the oven and baked them into gingerbread cookies for Santa to eat on Christmas Eve. What did you think was going to happen? I told you she was a witch.

You can see a larger version of Headless Saguaro on its Web Page by clicking here. I hope you enjoy viewing it. Next week, we’ll continue along the Florence-Kelvin Highway, and I’ll show some more of the natural beauty we found along the way.

Until next time — jw

Saguaro Climbers Picture of the Week

You can tell a story in several ways. You can start with details and pull back to reveal the whole, you can take the long-shot and move in for the close-up, or you can jump back and forth. I find the third option hard to pull off well, so I avoid it. I see the skydiver method the easiest—jump out of the plane at 20 thousand feet and then move in closer for details. It’s self-limiting because I have to make my point before the ground interrupts my story.

When I visit a new place like this month’s topic—KofA Wildlife Refuge—it makes sense for me to take mountain pictures and then work closer, because a story isn’t complete without details. Interesting things are happening in the cracks. Literally, like in the case with this week’s featured image.

Saguaro Climbers – three saguaros slowly make their way to the summit.

I photographed this scene along the Palm Canyon Trail. Unlike the palms, this side canyon was better suited for the lens I was carrying, so it was easier to compose. Instead of the palms that I was after, it’s just three common (to the Sonoran Desert) saguaros in a steep ravine. It’s the light of sundown that makes the image work. It emphasizes the canyon’s depth without being so harsh that it blacks out details.

I usually title my photos with descriptive titles, so I don’t have to be imaginative, but in this case, I didn’t. While I processed it—with the aid of my Medicare supplied drugs—I visualized the saguaros as mountain climbers trudging their way to a summit. I called it Saguaro Climbers. That’s crazy because we all know that saguaros can’t climb—don’t we?

As usual, you can see a larger version of Saguaro Climbers on its Web Page by clicking here. I hope you enjoy viewing this week’s post and next week when we’ll show another featured image from the KofA Wildlife Refuge.

Until next time — jw