Yesterday was National Get Outdoors Day, with free admission to Parker Canyon Lake, possibly the most remote of the Southern Arizona lakes which are big enough for boating. Yes, there is boating in Southern Arizona. Yesterday, in the spirit of GO Day, my friend Annie and I took a day trip that celebrated just about everything Hollywood likes about a place that most people think of as a barren desert, the Sonoran Desert.
Our first stop was Parker Canyon Lake some 40 miles south of Sonoita, a thriving ranching and horse community on Highway 83, between I-10 and the border. Highway 83 is a fine, well-maintained road as one leaves the interstate, weaving past the Santa Rita Mountains to the West and the Whetstones to the East. Highway 83 continues south from Sonoita but the road gets narrower as it winds through Sonoita and Elgin’s wineries, eventually leaving these pleasant, high-desert rolling hills to become the road you would expect in a no-man’s land of canyon, rock, dust and cattle.
Highway 83 finally winds up to a small village called Lakeside which overlooks the Lake. Parker Canyon is much smaller than Patagonia Lake, its sister lake to the north. Since Parker Canyon allows only low-speed motors, it has become a favorite of flat-water kayakers and paddlers. The lake, which offers hikers a 5-mile trail around it, is large enough to provide a challenging experience but, with the low-wake policy, it is safe enough for even inexperienced paddlers. And it is beautiful, nestled as it is into its small canyon in the foothills of the Huachucas.
To honor Get Outdoors Day, the Forest Service had invited several vendors and organizations to set up near the marina including a traveling exhibit on the reptiles and arachnids of the region. Annie and I got to handle several beautiful and non-venomous snakes of the region. Since I often see snakes on my hikes and backpacks, I like to handle them in safe surroundings in order to reduce my discomfort at seeing them crawling across my trail. After visiting the various booths, we were ready to take off on our short hike.
A warning -the first view of Parker Canyon is deceptive. Looking north where the lake extends beyond its dam, you can’t even see its many fingers. So when someone tells you the trail around it is 5 miles, you are going to be tempted not to believe it. Believe it. And although it is well-marked (mostly), the lowering water volume has left parts of the main trail far away from the actual shore and subsequently many wildcat trails over parched dry lakebed have naturally been created. We sometimes took a trail only to find that it lead to a cliff or a fishing spot. The main trail, if you manage to stay on it, winds up and down with the terrain, often in the trees above the lake and is most certainly at least 5 miles. Of course there were the usual birds and lizards one would expect along the trail, but we also saw unusual plants, huge balls of leaves bundled in spider silk and wild turkeys.
Once back to the marina, we had a choice – return the way we came or head further into the remote high desert to the south and west, eventually arriving in the outskirts of Nogales, the nearest legal border crossing. Border Patrol and Forest Service personnel we spoke to affirmed we could easily make the trip over the primitive roads in YiHa, my trusty truck, but they warned we might encounter undocumented immigrants in this wild country. We saw an imposing Border Patrol presence and absolutely no undocumenteds.
We followed 44 up and over the mountain finally arriving at an incredibly beautiful high desert plateau with prairie grass as high as my hip. For a few miles, this area is owned by us, the people of the United States, but after a few miles, the plateau becomes range with branded cows and their small calves, black and brown and glossy from the high desert feed. This is country where the road signs point to specific ranches and the roads are numbered rather than named.
Eventually, we come to our first stop, a tiny village named Locheil (named by its Scottish owners) that used to have a border gate and Border Patrol presence until the early 1980s. What is left of this once thriving ranch and mine hub are a few adobe structures, some more modern homes, a well-preserved one-room schoolhouse, and a bright white church high on the hill. No Trespassing signs abound.
Up the road from Locheil is a somewhat dubious monument honoring Franciscan Fray Marcos de Niza, said to be the first European to enter this area west of the Rockies in the 1500s. I found the derelict wind mills and some rusting farm equipment behind the monument more interesting but the village is the perfect example of the kind of environment early settlers would have claimed. Desert willow and sand proclaiming the existence of water not too far underground, low trees to provide shade and open areas perfect for a few gardens.
Next stop was Duquesne and Washington Camp, two old mining
towns which were so close together one resident reportedly declared that when “Duquesne’s
tail was stepped on, it was Washington that barked!” Washington itself shows
little of its history but is the largest settlement south of Patagonia with a number
of more modern structures, some of which are clearly inhabited. In this case, modern encompasses old mobiles and deteriorating tin sheds. We chose not to
leave the road on which we were traveling to reach the ghost remnants of
Duquesne. However we were lucky to travel past some relatively intact mining
structures which are part of the complex just a little ways up the hill from
Washington Camp on the road to Nogales, locally and conveniently named Duquesne Road.
A little further beyond the plant and off to the south we could easily see
the large Duquesne mining complex in the valley below.
Once we were past the Duquesne and Washington ghost towns,
we began winding down out of the cooler high country, coming upon the outskirts
of Nogales in just a few short miles. We stopped at Tubac (one should always at
least consider stopping at Tubac because I have a friend who owns the Deli
there and it is a good place to wash the dust of the road from your throat) for
a quick snack and cold drinks before hitting I-18 home. We baked in the sun, girding ourselves for the even hotter streets of Tucson.
On short day-trips like these, I sometimes feel smug that
Arizona has so much to offer. But in reality everywhere I have lived, from
Missouri to Colorado to Texas to Arizona to New Zealand or Montana, has similar
day trips into history and great beauty. Get Outdoor Day was just a reason to
go but the adventure of a back road, witnessing wild creatures, traveling under
a canopy of trees can be experienced any day, any place. YiHa has nearly 140,000 miles on
her and I’m convinced she loves bouncing down primitive roads as much as I do so we'll meet you down the road.
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