Early November, 2009 - We left Havasu Springs Resort knowing exactly where we were
heading for a change: White Tanks Regional Park on the west side of Phoenix. This is a
pretty park and campground set smack in the middle of some of the nicest Sonoran Desert
there is. We couldn't help but smile as the saguaro cactuses greeted us with arms held high.
The overall climate in central Arizona's Sonoran Desert
doesn't feel much different than the Mojave Desert of
Nevada, California and northwestern Arizona, but what a
difference in vegetation. It is lush and vibrant, filled with
unusual plant life, singing birds and hopping bunnies.
The central figure in this desert is the saguaro cactus, and they give the area its charm.
Each one is unique, striking a pose with arms raised that suggests an almost reverent spirit.
These precious and protected plants define the landscape, and as we drove into the park we
felt like we were coming home.
We woke up the next morning to find that one
section of the campground had been taken over
by a raft of tiny, ancient trailers. Their owners, all
women, were gathered around a campfire, and
we learned that this was a rally of the group
"Sisters on the Fly."
Priscilla, one of the first members of the
group, invited me into her 1948 Pleasure
Craft trailer (unfortunately I never got a
photo). The woodwork was beautiful, but it
was the antique refrigerator with its
heavy external latch that caught my eye.
"That's what sold me on this trailer," she
said. "That and this stove here." Both
appliances were original, and Priscilla
was too. What a great gathering of
ladies and buggies.
With their sporty air of
independence, laced with
a touch of sass, these
gals seemed to have a
great weekend together.
I later checked out their website, www.sistersonthefly.com, and
thoroughly enjoyed their "Caravan Trailers" link. It is a gallery of photos
of their members' fantastic vintage trailers, many featuring wonderful
and humorous paint jobs. Started ten years by two sisters, the club has
grown to over 1000 members. What fun.
We left White Tanks to spend a little time at Bartlett Lake. On the
way out we passed the sad sight of what happens to saguaro
cactuses when developers do their thing. In order to build a new
library, something that will enhance the human community
immensely, the lovely Sonoran Desert abutting the park must be
cleared. In the process, the cholla cactus, mesquite, and
creosote bushes get mowed down without a thought. The
saguaros, however, are protected and endangered, so they get
moved to a holding pen for later transplanting. Seeing all these
fun little personalities standing in a jail cell, arms up, awaiting an
unknown fate, always makes my heart ache. It happens all over
central Arizona all the time, but that doesn't make it any easier to
witness. It is unfortunate that the most lush and gorgeous of our
American deserts has also turned out to be such a popular place
to live. There are thousands of square miles of barren Mojave desert, but the beautiful Sonoran desert that is unique to Arizona
and northern Mexico has been systematically dismantled in Arizona for the last century in order to make way for the urban sprawl
of Phoenix and Tucson. If only those cities had been founded in a place that didn't lose its unique beauty when bulldozed.
The road to Bartlett Lake is one of the area's most scenic. The
lake pops into view as you round a bend, and grows larger and
larger as you descend towards it.
Taking many bike rides along the roads that wind through this part
of the Tonto National Forest over the next few days, I kept holding
us both up by stopping to get photos.
This rich desert landscape is
otherworldly, although it is alive with
animal activity. The prickly plants of
all shapes and sizes ring out with the
unique calls and rustlings of the
Gambel's quails, curve-billed
thrashers, cactus wrens and gila
woodpeckers.
Teddy bear chollas look so cuddly I
always find myself stomping into the
desert to get a closer look, only to find
myself sitting with a pair of pliers later,
yanking their long thick thorns out of
the soles of my shoes.
There is dispersed camping along the
lake's shores, and because the lake
was being drained to an unusually low level during our visit, to allow for
dam repairs, the choice of campsites was immense.
We rode down to
the Yellow Cliffs
and circled back to
our campsite. This
area is layered in
memories for us,
as we used to ride
our bikes out here
frequently to "get
in some miles" and
get away from the
city, Mark used to bring his kids here
to swim, and we spent some happy
nights here in our popup as well.
Shortly after we pulled into our campsite, we heard an
incessant meowing. A little black and white kitty suddenly
came over to us and started rubbing herself on our legs.
Where did she come from? The nearest house is
in a huge masterplanned community of mansions
14 miles away. There was no way this little cat had
come that far. Her coat was still clean and she was
perfect coyote snacking size. We guessed she had
been abandoned or had snuck out of someone's
car during a visit to the lake in the last day or two.
We gave her some tuna, and watched her lustily
chow down and lick the can clean. She promptly
adopted our top front step as her own and spent
the afternoon watching the world through half-
closed eyes from that vantage
point. We couldn't keep her and kept racking our brains to come up with a
friend in the area who might need a cat these days. None came to mind.
But at that moment a US Forest Service truck pulled up and two young fellows
jumped out. They were on the hot-shot forest fire crew for Tonto National
Forest and were busy trimming trees while waiting for the next forest fire to
break out. They took one look at the little kitten and fell in love too. "Our
station cat was really old and he just died," one of them said. "We need a new
station cat!" How cool is that. The guys said they still had a stack of cat food
back at the station too. The kitty hung out in the shade near the fire fighters
for the rest of the day, and they whisked her off to the station once their shift
ended. Truly one of the best stray cat stories I've ever seen.
We've been to Bartlett Lake countless times but had
never explored its back roads that wind behind the
dam. After a steep climb we got a great view of the
lake and then descended to the river beyond the dam
where there are small campsites.
We even got out on the
kayak and had a chance to
get up close and personal,
checking out the exposed
shoreline. A blue heron was
patiently fishing nearby.
One Saturday morning we got a glimpse of our
old lives as the Bicycle Haus bike team arrived
from Scottsdale, flying down the final
screaming descent towards the lake. We rode
with them back up to the ranger's station,
some 14 miles from the lake, and were glad
we didn't have another 30 miles to go after that
to get to the starting point like they did.
Instead, we wandered along the
roads at a slow pace, taking
leisurely photos of our dear friends,
the saguaros.
In the backs of our minds we were mulling over what to do once the winter
weather started to arrive. We didn't know just yet, but new and different
kinds of adventures were in store for us on the Caribbean island of