saguaro – Page 3 – On the road with Jim

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

Pair of Threes

I’m all alone this week because Queen Anne has gone home to her sister’s because they made Christmas cookies this week, and Anne goes where the sugar is. For me, it’s good news and bad news. The good news is that the bleeding from my ears has stopped since the yelling ceased. The bad news is that I don’t have a copy editor this week, so this will be a short post. I don’t know how to spell all the big words she uses. She’s coming home on Thursday so things will be back to normal then. Pray for me.

Meanwhile back at the mines—or more specifically, San Domingo Wash where Anderson Mill is.

Back in the days when everybody used film—that’s the cellulose stuff you put in cameras to capture images before we used electrons—I was a stingy shooter. Because each frame cost a buck (sheet film was five-times that), I wouldn’t waste my money on something I wasn’t sure was good. Now that electrons are cheap (and the prices keep falling), I’ll snap just about anything that catches my eye. Often that shot turns out to be junk, but one out of a thousand deserves a second look. That’s how this week’s featured image happened.

Pair of Threes -Three saguaro along the ridge overlooking the San Domingo Wash where the Anderson Mill is. The three wispy clouds make up the pair.

If you’re the kind of person that lingers on every word that I write, you’ll recall that in my previous posts that the Anderson Mill structure is several stories tall and that the brothers welded it together as needed. In the short time that Fred and I were there, I wanted to poke around the different levels. Now, there are steel-treed stairs, but most of them didn’t have handrails. So I walked the truck paths that snaked up the hillside. It was at one of the switchbacks that I looked up and saw three saguaros along the ridge. Without thinking, I snapped the camera shutter and then dismissed it. When I saw that image on the computer, I knew I could use it because the clouds made the photo. I call this image Pair of Threes.

You can see a larger version of Pair of Threes on its Web Page by clicking here. I hope you enjoy viewing this week’s post and come back next week when we’ll show another featured image from San Domingo Wash.

Until next time — jw

BTW: Anne’s flight comes in after 11 pm. If you were a good friend, you’d pick her up … and keep her.