Travel Journals: Tucson - Writing, Reading, Hiking

Weather Moving In

TUCSON - HIKING, READING, WRITING

That's what Sheila and I declared to be our goals for our time in Arizona. I think we've done a pretty good job of achieving them. For good measure we combined them with a fair amount of socializing. (I have met a lot of Sheila's friends here and had a great time getting to know them.)

READING & WRITING

I'll be brief. We did a lot of both. See?

Doing my daily writing. Or was I playing Wordle?

Getting in some reading in harsh conditions

Multi-tasking: Sun Worshiping & Reading

HIKING

Trail maps and guides give hikers a lot of good information - trail length, type (loop or straight in and out), terrain, average time. Over our many years of hiking, we always marveled at the number of times we completed hikes in less than the average time. I mean, we were in good shape but would not describe ourselves as strong hikers. They must determine these times for the casual, inexperienced hiker, we always said with a touch of humor. And for old people, we added.

This year I have become a below average hiker. (I say this also with a touch of amusement.) Old Father Time has caught up with me. After all those years of below average times, I am now hiking toward the mean. I'm still hiking all sorts of terrain, but doing it with much more care.

A word about trekking poles. My good friend, John, introduced me to poles many years ago. After one hike with borrowed poles, I bought my own. The pressure they take off one's knees and hips is hard to ignore. Also, as I've aged my balance isn't what it used to be. I used to skip rock to rock over streams and handle rocky ascents and descents with ease. Now I need my poles to steady me, but I can still do it. I have said for a long time that I would not still be hiking without trekking poles. This is true. It is also true that I am grateful to still be a hiker.

And hiking we've done. A lot. Our old knees (and a hip) have hollered, "STOP," but we haven't listened. We trek on, climbing, descending, moving forward through the desert. We've consulted the doctors. (Don't hike so far, one told me.) Lots of Aleve and Ibuprofin, CBD cream (not quite a miracle drug, but close), ice and heat have helped. We keep hiking.


Sinan, Me, Sheila, Pat, Saguaro at Sweetwater Preserve

DESERT MEDITATION

Sun warms my back.
Breeze cools my face.
Trekking poles ease the burden
on my knees and hips
as I travel the rocky trail.

The easy wind, my breathing, the songs of birds,
A pair of fighter jets streaking overhead, wings an arm’s length apart,
unwelcome interlopers.
The crunch of my feet on gravel to the rhythm of
my trekking poles,
Tap tap tap left right left.

Sky an impossible shade of blue, like
summer days in the
northern wilderness where
I’ve traveled countless journeys in
a wooden canoe.
Vanishing pleasures.

Canyon floor below, peaks above and everywhere
Desert growth,
Mesquite, palo verde, ironwood and
Cactus - cholla, barrel, prickly pear
and some I still can’t name,- and
Saguaro - Desert Royalty -
Towering above all the rest,
and me.
An infinity of saguaro.

On one trail (Was it Brown Mountain?), so many saguaro
crowd the trail that
I feel as if I am walking in their magical embrace.

Deer graze among palo verde.
A lone coyote crosses the trail,
Unaware of my presence, or
uncaring.

I stop and turn in a complete circle.
My camera dangles by my side, unnecessary.
I take in this moment, meant for my eyes only.
Ten thousand saguaros, the hills, the trail stretching before me,
a lone cumulus cloud drifting above, advance scout for
the legions advancing from the west.

Gold! Sabino Canyon

Cottonwoods, A Sure Sign of Water Nearby, Sabino Canyon

Skies clearing after a morning rain

On the trail, Brown Mountain, Saguaro National Park

In the embrace of saguaros

Rock Wren Trail

A Forest of Saguaros, Brown Mountain

SONG AND DRUM

"One of my favorite past times is to go out into the Saguaro Monument, pick a trail and just walk into the sacred desert. Hearing the sounds, the silence, a hawk's wings above, the sound of wind moving through saguaro needles has its own special song. Suddenly, during monsoon, I hear the drumming of thunder in the distance, Thunder Beings, announcing their arrival. Initially, feeling some fear, I notice that my heart is responding with its own drumbeat.

This is the spirit of oneness, of healing, of pure joy. I am honored."

- Julia Arriola, Indigenous Scholar and artist.

...And a little bit of this and that to wrap it up for today.

* I like to hike and to take photos in the morning and evening, when shadows are long and accentuate differences and contrasts.

Gates Pass

Dawn arrives.

Teddy Bear Cholla (not cuddly!)

Gates Pass (from our patio)

*Teddy bear cholla are also called jumping cholla. Don't get too close to this one. They don't really jump, but the lightest of feather touches and its spines will hitch a ride on you.

* A wedge of swans. A murder of crows. An unkindness of ravens. And now... A rhumba of rattlesnakes.