The desert glowed in the soft early morning light of the day. Each spine of the Cholla cactus was highlighted with a chartreuse glow that bordered on neon. Not to be out done by the beauty of the Cholla, the Creosote Bush seeds were little kernels of fuzzy white among the yellow green leaves popping up here and there. Long eared jack rabbits lounged in the lengthy shadows of the Saguaro cactus while flocks of Gambel Quail scratched at the dusty ground around the base of Ocotillos while hummingbirds hovered at the red flowers above.  Lizards darted across the path blending in so well with the rocks and gravel that only their movement announced their presence. As we  shuffled down the dusty trail, my eyes took all this in.  The air dry and quickly going from warm to hot filled our lungs. Our destination loomed ahead of us as we took step after step, searching for the spur trail up to the praying hands but not beyond or so we thought.  We were told of the large rocky cairn at the top of the spur and we headed that direction. Closer and closer we came to the large group of rocks sticking up like hands pressed upwards together and realized that the trail went further and further still.  At the base we stopped in the shade to have lunch, marveling at the fact we were the only ones in this secluded spot and felt lucky. By this time though still early in the day, the desert had lost it’s glow and now as I looked into the sky, it deepened to an endless blue. I tried to imagine it with hundreds of stars and inky black but the blue was overwhelming and contrasted with the orangish red of the rocks. We pasted the hands, wondering what was around the bend, the next little rise but this trail wasn’t on the map. Would it loop around? Did we have enough water, both unanswered and unable to determine we turned back down the spur trail to hook up to the main loop.  Keeping to the west side of the stubby hills we made our way back pausing near tan ocotillo and saguaro cactus to photograph the colors of the flowers when this beautiful little hummingbird decided to make it’s appearance in the frame of the camera. Not even noon and we had explored trail in this amazing area. 

With myy camera in my lap, we drove down Carefree Highway, I scanned each side for possible sightings of wild burros. I probably should refer to them as feral burros as they are not native to area but introduced in the 1600s and later used as pack animals for miners before either being turned loose or escaping into the desert. Their grey and light brown coats, and white under bellies help them blend in with their surroundings.  Though the signs warning of possible burro crossings  I didn’t really expect to see any and then under a saguaro were two little burros in the distance.  We stopped so that I could jump out to photograph them.  I wanted a closer photo but if this was what I could get I’d be happy. We continued on towards Lake Pleasant in hopes of a more personal opportunity.  As we skirted the lake we came around a jack as the males are called.  Pulling right up to him, I rolled down my window. He leaned in plucking the apple from my hand,  Obviously use to hand outs.  He moved slow, not fearful, not in a hurry.  Just plodded and looked.  Were there others nearby?  I wasn’t comfortable with the cars and trucks passing along the highway and so we left this jack grazing on scrub at the edge of the highway. We topped the rise overlooking the lake thinking we had seen our little burros.  Turning around we retraced our course through gullies and washes, up and down little hills until I yelled stop.  There in the distance was a group of burros.  Three of them to be exact.  I hoped out with my camera and walked closer, trying to be wary of snakes as I made my way towards this little family group. I could hear braying in the distance, it seemed as if this area was suddenly alive with burros calling to each other. The sun was low in the sky and the burros had started to make their way towards their watering holes. I carefully and slowly approached this little group trying to line up the light and the burros. They stopped eating and just watched, wary but not too concerned. As I moved a bit closer, one of the larger ones, a Jennie strategically placed herself between the littlest one and me.  Burros aren’t skittish, they assess a situation before running away and are known to fight as much as scatter.  I snapped a few more photos before slowing backing away to return to our jeep.  Meanwhile the braying continued in the distance.  Satisfied I was ready to return back to our home base when I noticed another small small group right next to the gravel road.  John quickly pulled over and I again jumped out.  The light was perfectly soft and pink, the prickly pear in the foreground and the burros watching me with their soft brown eyes through long lashes seemed iconic.  I couldn’t help but chuck a half apple to keep them there and interested. A few clicks and they were ready for me to be on my way.  I had my fill of burros. Happy and content with the experience we returned to our home base with something on my must do list checked off.









 

The beauty of this place had me grabbing my camera as we made our way along the path much to John’s chagrin.  Passed by people twice our age and a runner who was on his fourth lap of up and back may have been disheartening for him. And yet I was determined to be present and notice the little details of this hike. Though we had two choices at the beginning of the hike, the 7 1/2 mile loop around the rocky outcropping or the climb to wind cave. We chose the most popular one, little did we know at the time that there was more to wind cave than the cave itself.  Aptly named Wind Cave, we had a nice breeze as we climbed to the cave area.  As we neared the cave, the path split with a sign warning hikers that they could continue “at their own risk” as if hiking wasn’t that already.  We followed the arrow to the cave which was pleasantly shaded and full of people chatting, enjoying the view of the valley below.  As we sat and enjoyed our lunch, along came the inhabitants of the cave, darting between rocks and the occasional branch, peaking out of crevices.  Soon they were running up to our shoes, clearly wanting what was in our hands, streaking across our backpacks.   Hoping for a handout, we place a cracker on a rock and one brave little chipmunk darted forward to nibble it’s treasure before scooting back to safety.  Emboldened by the chipmunks a ground squirrel made it’s lumbering appearance clearly well fed with it’s round tummy.  It peaked over the rocks wanting more of a delivery service than a go get it service.  The crowds had diminished by this point and more chipmunks crept out of hiding.  The inquisitive creatures explored every area looking for crumbs left behind by groups of hikers.  As the hikers left, the presences of voices departed and the sounds of the desert returned along with the hummingbirds who made little homes in the cracks of the cave. Having watched enough of the rodents antics but not ready to return we decided to “hike at our own risk” and turned the corner to continue south along the rim of the rocky outcropping.  Here we discovered a trail marked with blue dots leading up and over the cave to the ridge of this group of rocks. Treated by 360 degree views it was worth the scramble up.  Meeting only on other group at the top. We paused, trying to pick out the different landforms and identify the Superstition Mountains and the Tonto National Forest.  This spot lent itself to panoramic photos. Photos taken we headed down the trail again following the blue dots. Taking a wrong turn, back tracking and finally making our way to the cave we could see the parking area at the trailhead had thinned out quite a bit.  All along the path down the desert animals reappeared especially the humming birds.  The flitted here and there, clashing with other humming birds as they disputed their territory with the ocotillo and saguaro flowers.  We met less and less groups of people making their way up. Each time coming into contact with people, we noticed the disappearance of the humming birds. If we were quiet they would make their appearance, buzzing right over our heads. The sun now quite high in the sky shown down finally coming to rest upon the lichen on the rocks bringing that muted color to life.  The ground animals had bedded down by now and lizards no longer ran across the path, but camouflaged themselves on the rocks soaking up the heat of the day. We took their cue and made for our car and home base to wash off the dirt of the trail and soak in the pool until the desert cooled enough for the next adventure of the day.




















 

 Not too far from the desert botanical gardens is papagos park.  This is one that fills up as soon as it opens in the morning. After driving past the entrance at least four times because I couldn’t understand Google maps, we finally found it and a coveted parking spot to boot.  I was mildly disappointed in this park due to the hype there was about it.  I think if I was riding a bike or running this would have been a great “trail” run/ride.  I say that loosely due to the fact that you can see one end of the park to the other, except for the large rocks on one end of the park.  However, once  on the other side of the park and into the crevices of the rock formation we came upon the hummingbirds.  We were still and quiet and soon the area was alive with the hummingbirds flitting from bush to bush and chasing each other off.  Apparently they are very territorial.  As soon as someone would come along blaring music as they walked or loudly talking, the humming birds disappeared and no one would ever have know they were there. I would stand next to a bush and listening for the humming of wings and the tiny little squawks.  Trying quickly to focus on them before they darted and streaked to another bush or another bird. It was amazing to watch and I had to tear myself away to finish the walk around the park.