Saturday, February 16, 2019
The trip out of Tucson and over to Why, Arizona took us west
across the large Tohono O'Odham Reservation. The scenic drive travels
through hills with literally thousands of iconic Saguaro cacti. The
cacti are named o'odham for a legend of a small child being taken
into the earth after his mother neglected him, and sprouting up as a
Saguaro cactus. O'odham means both person and Saguaro cactus. The
other thing that caught our eye along the mostly straight road, were
the many roadside memorials to people who has lost their lives on
that road. Not one we'd want to drive at night.
At Why, we stopped for fuel at the Why Not Travel Store. It was a
busy place as customers stopped on their way to and from Organ Pipe,
and also from Puerto Penasco, or Rocky Point, the resort town in
Mexico on the Sea of California. It is only about 60 miles from the
park. Once again as we drove the last stretch south to the park, we
were hoping we would have no problems getting in. We were last in the
park four years ago and the large campground was mostly empty. In
2002? a ranger had been murdered by a drug cartel who had crossed
over the border. Parts of the park had just been reopened when we
were there, and new law enforcement rangers had been hired. There had
been a lot of extra publicity about the virtues of the park since our
visit, so we weren't sure what to expect.
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| Decorative Fountain |
The campground has now gone to reservations and was mostly maxed
out when we got there. We were told to look for a site with a green
tag that said one night and avoid the yellow tags, which meant
reserved. We drove around and around the large campground and finally
found one or two green labeled tags. Once we snagged a spot, we went
online and reserved three more nights in another available site. We
would need to move in the morning. Not a big deal considering that
there are no hookups in the campground. We basically drove across the
driveway.
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| Organ Pipe campsite |
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| Our campsite "roommate" - a Curved-Bill Thrasher |
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| The view toward Mexico |
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| Bona Fide Organ Pipe Cactus |
The campground is lovely with a long range view into wild Mexico.
It is a national monument but also designated an International
Biosphere area. It has been set aside as the only area in the United
States comprising the Sonoran Desert, which has organ pipe cactus.
The rain this year has really greened it up and we saw wildflowers
that we haven't seen before in the Sonoran Desert. It really is a
spectacular park and now that it is considered safe, visitors have
returned.
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| Cholla cacti were fruiting everywhere! |
The only real problem we had was that it has been unusually cold
in the Southwest this year. The solar panels charge up the battery
during the day, and with all the curtains and blinds open, it gets
quite warm inside on a sunny day from passive solar heating. At night
we button up all the curtains and blinds, but running the propane
furnace which uses electricity to power the blower, pulls down the
battery fast. We have been bundling up in the evening, and during the
night, and running the furnace in the morning to warm it up. As the
sun hits the panels, it gives the battery some more energy. Our last
morning at Organ Pipe outside it was 31 degrees, and inside it was 35
degrees! Takes us back to our tent camping days!
During our days we took some walks and soaked up the beauty. One
day we packed a lunch and drove the 41 mile gravel road that requires
a 4-wheel-drive vehicle. It travels through a remote area of the
park. We only saw a half-dozen other cars that day. We stopped for
lunch at an old mine, and later spent some time hiking around the
Quitobaquito Spring area, where tiny pupfish live. This particular
fish is only found in a few places, including Death Valley and each
isolated group is distinctly different from the others. They survive
in extreme environments.
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| Checking out old mine shafts |
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| Catching a Jumping Cholla before it jumped! |
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| Rescue station for desert travelers |
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| The trail to Quitobaquito Springs |
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| The Quitobaquito Springs pool |
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| Following the springs upstream |
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| The inside of a dead Saguaro |
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| Quitobaquito Springs Pupfish - maybe 1-inch long |
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| Mexican Leafcutter Ants at work |
The parking area for the spring is right along the border fence
with Mexico. After spending the day in the isolated quiet of the
park, we were surprised to see Mexico Highway 2 on the other side of
the border and watched and heard the noisy semi-trucks and buses
whizzing by! We took photos of ourselves at the border fence and then
started driving along the last stretch of park road that follows the
fences.
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| The border road and minimal fence |
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| Kathleen at the Border "Wall" |
The day was getting long, and as we drove along the border, I
commented to Greg that the only evidence of the Border Patrol we had
seen in the park was a high camera-truck way north of us that was
aimed at the long flat playa running through the park and down into
Mexico, and two large blue water tanks with flags to identify them.
We guessed that there was an agreement to have a scarce presence in
order to allow visitors a more pristine desert wilderness experience.
It was a contrast to so many other areas along the border and further
inland where the Border Patrol's presence is very obvious.
Just as I finished my comments, we crested a small rise and in
front of us were a dozen illegal border crossers and four Border
Patrol vehicles and agents. We stopped and waited a short distance
away on the gravel road. The journalist in me stirred up and I
quickly snapped a few photos, which I decided later not to share. It
feels too exploitative. As we watched, a white dog with a box in its
mouth, maybe of foodstuffs, walked back across the road toward the
border, its protruding breasts and large nipples swinging as if it
has recently had puppies. A little boy followed her, his parents too
frightened of the agents to go after him. He was too young to
understand what was happening. We watched for a few minutes until the
agents saw us and motioned us to pass. Greg slowly drove us past and
we noticed that it appeared to be young parents with a few small
children and the rest were young enough to be unaccompanied minors,
mostly boys. The parents looked at us as we passed. I could look into
their eyes. There was fear and uncertainty. No one in the group was
dressed for the unseasonably cold weather and nightfall was coming.
It tore at my heart to see the mother's face and not know where she
was coming from, and what circumstances had driven her to risk this
illegal entry for her children.
It haunts me that I will never know what happened to that group. I
pray that the family wasn't separated. Were the youth that were alone
sent to Tornillo, the huge tent city for teens? We drove past the
town in West Texas earlier in our trip traveling along I-10, and
strained to see the tents so close to the border, but couldn't. I
thought about them all evening. I woke up dreaming of border crossers
that night. I, a white woman of privilege, will never know the
circumstances that would drive a mother to risk or the courage it
takes, to act upon that decision. I had the luck of being born in
this country, she didn't. We watch so much media coverage of the
situation at our southern border, and at times we begin to feel numb
to it. I've imagined that traveling in the Southwest might expose us
to the people we see on television. There are certainly plenty of
warning signs to be aware of smugglers, but after seeing so many, you
ignore the signs. I never expected to come face to face with the very
people we had been warned about. I never expected to look into a
strange mother's eyes and connect with that universal need to protect
our children.
We drove on, and passed a large van coming to scoop them up. “At
least they'll be indoors tonight”, I consoled myself. Greg and I
were silent most of the way back to camp.
