BACK ROAD ADVENTURE Ironwood Forest National Monument

you how to do it. It also tells you how to knock out a shark, too, by punching it in the nose.” Patrick went on in this vein, saying nothing more about rattlesnakes. The attention span of a 9-year-old can leave you breathless.

We have a good hike on a hot day. We expected to see bighorn sheep roaming the hills and brought binoculars to better our chances. But no luck.

With Patrick navigating and not a shark in sight, we're back in the car, and we do see lizards by the bundle, skittering through brush, and a family of cattle gathered around a stock pond.

As we ease into ever-deepening wash crossings, the saguaros to our left stand almost as thick as pine trees around Flagstaff. To me, a forest of these beauties always looks so emphatic, never unsure. They're the desert's grand masters, the unforgettable ones.

After 5 miles on Silverbell Road, the view to our left really opens, and we can look south all the way to Kitt Peak. Through binoculars, peering farther southeast to the Santa Rita Mountains, beyond the hawks riding thermals, Mount Hopkins looks like a thumb jutting up from 6,880 feet.

A sign 9.5 miles from the start of Silverbell Road announces entrance onto Ironwood Forest National Monument land. Created by President Bill Clinton in 2000, the monument puts 129,000 acres of choice Sonoran Desert under federal management, and beyond the reach of development.

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We notice that the desert inside the monument looks no different than what came before, except for a somewhat higher concentration of ironwood trees. As for future improvements to the land, the Bureau of Land Management leans toward leaving it alone.

"It's a thoroughly rustic place, and the public likes it that way," says Lorraine Buck at BLM's Tucson office. "If we do build a visitors center, it won't be for years, but the public seems to want it tied to a town, like Marana, rather than in the monument itself."

After 13.5 miles on Silverbell, the road turns right toward Marana. The 3,907-foot mountain aptly named Ragged Top, a favorite hangout of desert bighorns, appears almost immediately.

It looks like an island jutting up from the desert floor, the light playing beautifully upon it. The curious can walk to the base on the east side, and a hiking trail goes over the peak. But Buck says only the stoutest hikers should attempt it.Making the loop back to Avra Valley Road on Silverbell can be tricky. At the first stop sign after leaving the monument, turn right onto Trico Road and continue for a few hundred feet, then turn left onto Silverbell again. Five miles later, turn right at another stop sign and proceed 0.6 miles to Avra Valley Road. Then turn left and take Avra Valley Road approximately 22 miles back to 1-10.

The mileage from the starting point at Avra Valley Road and 1-10, all the way around the mine, through the monument and back to Avra Valley Road, totals 55.8 miles. But the astonishing desert views on this backcountry drive make it well worth the time. All VEHICLE REQUIREMENTS: Silverbell Road's dry wash crossings can be difficult, requiring a high-clearance vehicle. WARNING: Back road travel can be hazardous if you are not prepared for the unexpected. Whether traveling in the desert or in the high country, be aware of weather and road conditions, and make sure you and your vehicle are in top shape. Carry plenty of water. Don't travel alone, and let someone at home know where you're going and when you plan to return. Odometer readings in the story may vary by vehicle.

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION: Bureau of Land Management, Tucson office, (520) 258-7200.

Yuma's Sanguinetti House Museum Displays the Area's Rich Past

ON YUMA'S HISTORIC Madison Avenue, brilliant sunshine glints off the windows of 19th-century adobe homes, once owned by famous riverboat captains and the audacious entrepreneur, Eugene Francis Sanguinetti.

Perched above the Colorado River floodplain, these homes survived the ravages of the tempestuous river that ripped through this bustling riverfront burg in the late 1800s and early 1900s, uprooting trees and melting adobe buildings like sugar. Today the river placidly snakes past Yuma, where winter residents doublethe population every year and tales of the town's epic history await visitors at the Sanguinetti House Museum, formerly known as the Century House Museum.

On a recent afternoon, balmy 80-degree weather beckoned me outdoors, but my inquisitive nature nudged me inside the museum. Inside the old adobe structure built with stripped willow branches and river tules, all sense of time vanished as I became lost in an epic historical saga rivaling a James A. Michener novel.

The entrance's wall-sized three-dimensional map provided a quick introduction to this remarkable spot at the confluence of the Colorado and Gila rivers, once known as Yuma Crossing, where Arizona, California and Mexico meet. Dramatic tales of the area's past involve ancient Quechan Indians; famed Spanish conquistadores and missionaries, including Father Eusebio Francisco Kino; daring trappers like Kit Carson; and forty-niners en route to the California Gold Rush. The museum's approximately 5,000 artifacts some in glass display cases, others in storage tell their stories.

An exhibit called “River Yumans” details the lives of the area's first inhabitants, the Quechan Indians, before Yuma's recorded history began in 1540 with the arrival of Spanish explorer Hernando de Alarcon on a quest for Coronado's Seven Cities of Gold. Later, famous Spanish missionaries including Kino, Francisco Garces and Father Barreneche arrived on the scene, converting tribal members to Catholicism. The museum's “Tierra Incognita” display details this era with a wafer press used by itinerant priests to make communion hosts before Mass, and a ceremonial cross dangling a rosary, used by padres during religious ceremonies.

As the exhibit “Revolution 1781” reveals, Spanish and Indian cultures faced a deadly clash called the Yuma Massacre. Armed with primitive war clubs called kelyhaxwai, the Quechans rose up against Spanish soldiers brandishing pistols, swords and carbines. The Quechans miraculously won. In the museum, the names of Spanish soldiers, priests and settlers at the Yuma missions in 1781 appeared on a wall with a somber red cross next to the names of those killed in the revolt.

An adjoining room flashes forward to the 1849-1852 timeframe, when a few brave souls dared step foot here again. I became engrossed in the lives of the mountain men, the first AngloAmericans to travel here, and the U.S. Army soldiers who established Fort Yuma. A glassenclosed timeline spanning 1852-1916 housed