Take a Hike!
  by Nan Byrne

 

For your body, spirit and heightened desert appreciation - take a hike! The personal rewards can be positive and abundant! Guaranteed.

Over the years, I've trekked an almost pristine, sometimes wild and woolly trail that guides me into washes (drainages), across rising slopes (bajadas), and up, over and around good sized foothills. My path (and any trail will do, but the most rewarding avoid man's influences) serves as a portal into Mother  Nature's always dynamic, never static surrounding desert domain. Of the Sonoran Desert's six divisions, our foothills area is often rated as probably the most uniquely beautiful. This is because of its amazing diversity of plants and animals and the distinctive terrain in which they make their home. Scientifically, this division is referred to as the Sonoran Desert Arizona Uplands Scrub.

Hiking along an "Uplands Scrub" trail is an optimum platform from which to observe this desert's magical kaleidoscope of shifting seasons. Watch for their attendant color palettes, particular smells, and varied survival challenges. It's an ideal position from which to notice the amazing and uniquely customized, but often in concert, subsistence modes that all desert life has evolved for survival over the centuries. Adaptations that allow a species to live and reproduce in an often hostile habitat. Adaptations that  must at the same time adjust to maintain the tightrope of environmental balance. A most impressive assignment!

So! If you would like to take a hike, but are a bit unsure of how to "see" what you're "looking" at, or want to know something about what you're "seeing," then join me for a sampling of sightings from "my trail." 

It's late July, the sky can be overcast and threatening but has given only traces of rain. Monsoon clouds keep temperatures down, but humidity is up. We're headed towards the foothills on an old '50s jeep road that meanders up the bajada - the transition area between the hills and mountains and the flatter alluvial plains. The grade is gradual but persistent. Other than the road, the desert appears undisturbed. The vegetation is typical of Uplands Scrub, where the grandfather saguaros rise above the canopies of the scrubby desert trees - Mesquite, Palo Verdes, and Iron Wood - and Bur Sage (bursage) is a dominate ground covering shrub. These plants are recognized among the many other representatives of shrubs, cactus and herbaceous plants as the indicator plants. At this summer time of year, with exceptions of varying green shades of trees, cacti, and some shrubs revived by winter rains, the dominant desert hue is a dry brown-tan. Hardly a wildflower, shrub or cactus bloom punctuates the landscape with color. It is a season of stress; in response, desert life has activated its moisture conservation modes, awaiting relief and revival from August monsoon rains.

Look upward: a colorful exception to the drab hues are the saguaros finishing their "second" red "blooming." Not a flower, but a delicious very edible ripened ovary or fruit, split open into three or four outward curving "petals." The sucrose sweet red pulp is exposed as well as about 2,000 tiny black oily protein-rich seeds. Now, look downward: fallen "fruit flowers" litter the ground around the saguaro's main stem, offering a "good meal deal" to sustain a wide variety of desert diners, including harvester ants, wood  "pack" rats, cottontails, jackhares, many bird species, javelinas, and coyotes. With wisdom, Mother Nature adjusts the saguaro's food supply to arrive at this critical time. It serves as a transitional food source until the ripening mesquite pods and jojoba nuts drop and the next greening and flowering is activated by August storms.

Look over there at that little leaf Palo Verde tree, the one with the mature saguaro thrusting its arms through the canopy. Those round holes you see in the arms are entrances to nesting cavities pecked out by the Gila Woodpecker and Gilded Flicker. The desert tree is steadfast in its role as protector to the saguaro, but it was a bird, most likely a dove, resting on a branch, that probably "planted" the seed in its droppings to the ground and sheltering nursery below.

As we move along, doves flush from our presence throughout the hike. The characteristic squeaking noise made at liftoff and a pointed tail in flight, rather than the White Wing's rounded tail, tell us they are Mourning Doves. Three dove species reside here - the year-round resident Mourning Dove, the larger White Wing, a summer visitor from Mexico, and relative newcomer, the much smaller Inca. Next time you are watching birds quenching their thirst, notice all doves have the ability to drink water without raising their heads. Most bird species must depend upon the lifted beak and gravity to transport water down their throats.

On this road I once spied a yellowish-brown rock where none was apparent the day before. On inspection, fake rock began walking and turned into a desert tortoise carapace. Remember to resist the temptation to pick up a tortoise. As a hedge to limited water sources, reserve liquid is stockpiled in the bladder. When raised the tortoise releases water with a gush, a mechanism to startle away predators. In so doing the tortoise may escape being the main course, but without his water store his life still remains in jeopardy.

There is also a hillside traversed by our trail, where a Gila monster lizard occasionally shows off his vivid orange and black "beware-of-me" colors.

Both of these reptiles are seldom seen, as they are content to stay in the insulated safety of their burrows venturing out in optimum temperatures for sustenance and mate locating.

When chancing upon one of the uncommon or more secretive desert residents, consider the sighting a special privilege. Be ever alert to experience these unexpected treats.

The road is long behind us as the trail makes a steep hillside climb, then turns to continue rounding the north side of a substantial hill. Watch your step; there is a steep drop to a wide, dry, wash below. Drainages are fascinating from many perspectives and are vital players in the health and well-being of desert wildlife. They serve as the highways and byways in important animal movement corridors. Across the wash another big hill shows its south side. Notice that jojoba shrubs are abundantly lush and comfortable on our cooler north-facing slopes, and that looking north we see saguaro march with number and strength on the warmer south-facing slopes. Desert vegetation is choosy regarding living conditions. Northeast and southwest make a critical difference in survival techniques and germination sites are affected by the intensity and duration of the sun's rays.

Moving on through a pass in the big hills, we're traveling a high, open ridgeline. The vistas are wide and lovely but look also in front of your feet. Don't miss the track and sign stories left by other travelers in the  ever-changing composition of the soil's surface. There are many bird bathtub hollows indented into soft silty places formed by "dusting feathers clean." Gambel's Quail are enthusiastic bathers! The cloven-hoofed marks are signature signs of both the Mule Deer and Javelina (collared peccaries); only a keen eye can tell the difference, but stride length is a clue. There are slithers of lizards' tails (or maybe a snake) and the miniature chicken footprints primarily of ground dwelling birds - again, Gambel's Quail. Should a trail go under the snag of a dead tree, the size and quantity of droppings on the ground belie a favorite perch of a big bird. It could be a hunting platform for the Great Horned Owl. Sometimes, wily coyote will show himself across the trail, but we know from his "dog" paw prints and scat, now loaded with the season's "in" food, saguaro seeds, that he's a trail regular. In other seasons, his scat will show fur and various vegetative traces. A food fussy, coyote is not - one of the reasons he is such a successful survivor. 

The trail takes us off the gradual descent into another smaller, narrower drainage. A sudden loud racket interrupting the quietude is startling! The sound directs our attention to seeing a Mule Deer doe (no points, no rack) that saw us first. Stealth, is not a deer concern when "fright and flight" are triggered. Remain perfectly still. After its initial dash, a deer will stop and turn to look back for the bogeyman, an opportunity to enjoy and admire the animal's graceful beauty.

Other animals, mostly rodent family members, scatter more quietly from intrusion. Desert cottontail rabbits flash a white tail to trick a predator into pouncing at their rear allowing the head a frontal escape route. Bigger blacktailed Jackrabbits prefer the plants in washes where their fast dash is less impeded. These Jacks are a separate genus from rabbits; therefore, "Jackhare" is a more accurate moniker. That chipmunk-appearing critter dashing for cover - fluffy tail held high - is the Harris Antelope ground squirrel. Note that his white body stripe does not continue onto his head as does the chipmunk's. 

It is usually cooler walking in a drainage. Cooler air sinks and shade is offered by larger trees (growing here because it's a more reliable water source), mostly Mesquite and blue Palo Verdes, and shadows are cast on cliffs and hillsides. However, be mindful, a rocky wash is prime snake habitat. Rocks and abundant washside vegetation offer desirable shelter and protection from soaring temperatures. The multitude of rodent holes (mostly mice and ground squirrels) indicate good hunting. No matter the season, remember to place your hands and feet only where your eyes have registered an "all clear" signal. 

Our loop is almost complete as we continue down from the foothills. The wash broadens, and the familiar look of bursage-covered flats punctuated with saguaro, trees, ocotillo, and the rooftops of civilization returns. Our sampling of sightings from my trail is ending. But look! Waiting for us - in the middle of the path - a small, delicate, perfect owl's feather! A rare find! It is soft to touch and beautiful to see with its creamy background crossed with muted brownish bars. The edges are "feathered" and because of these downy edges owls can fly silently.

This is a very special parting gift, a reward, for today. For tomorrow, an invitation to "take another hike." A gift of summons and challenge to learn more about what can be seen, heard, smelled and appreciated stepping through Mother Nature's portal into the ever-changing Arizona Sonoran Uplands Scrub.