MYSTERIOUS PALMS OF THE KOFAS

"They sailed away for a year and a day, To the land where the palm tree grows."

In a dark, narrow canyon in the northwest extremity of the Kofa mountains in Central Yuma county grows a tall, slender, fan-leafed palm, 40 to 50 feet in height, that is found nowhere else in the United States. It is further distinctive in that it grows nowhere else in Arizona, nor in any other part of the Kofa range. This hermit tree grows only in the shadowy canyons descending from the old Indian lookout point, Signal Peak. It is Arizona's only native palm.

Gashed deeply into the volcanic abutments of Signal Peak, with towering walls so high that from November to March the sun does not shine upon its floor, Palm Canyon conceals within its short length one of the most remarkable freaks of nature in a state that is full of strange and bizarre natural objects.

What variety or species of palm is this? From whence came it? How long has it been growing there? Under what conditions does it grow and why is it not found elsewhere in Arizona?

So many conflicting stories as to the location of these palms and as to their size, number, and species, had been told me by persons who had actually seen them that I felt here was as a mystery.

A riddle, a fog of uncertainty that need-ed clearing up and having the true facts set forth as a matter of general interest to the state.

As a preliminary move I wrote to Dr. Thornber, botanist, at the state university and was informed by him that he had heard of a "wild palm" growing somewhere in the desert mountains, but that he had never seen them nor had them classified. He asked me to secure leaf and seed and seed stem specimens and send them to him for identification. He stated that he would get together all the information he could on the subject.

Immediately thereafter, I picked up my 80-year-old desert rat friend, the "Reckless Kid," at his cabin in the Har-cuvar mountains and we drove to Quart-zite; thence 18 miles south on the Yuma road to a small home-made sign reading "Palm Canyon" and bearing a wavering arrow that pointed uncertainly toward distant Signal Peak.

Nine miles of slow and rough traveling brought us as close to the mountains as we could take the car, so at this point we disembarked, took a snap-shot photo of the mountain, and set off on foot, carrying our lunch, canteen, lightweight longhandled picks, camera, sack for specimens, etc., and in less than a mile we walked right through the face of the cliff and were in Palm Canyon.

Towering cliffs several hundred feet in height rose on both sides of us, while the bed of the canyon itself was a wreckage of rocks and boulders piled like jack-straws, making a most impressive dis-play of the power of the sudden and ter-rific cloudbursts which occur only in-frequently but with great violence in these desert mountains.

Fresh tracks and other signs of the Bighorn sheep and of wild burros were visible in many places. One could not conceive of a more favorable hideout for these sturdy, persecuted animals.

Palm Canyon is not much over a mile in length from its fan shaped head, directly under Signal Peak, to the point where it opens onto the desert, but many small lateral, knife-blade chasms cut their way down through the precipices on either side, in many cases spilling their infrequent waters in a final drop of several hundred feet into the canyon below.

It is in these side chasms, high up in the walls of the main canyon, that the mysterious palms grow, and it is only by careful scanning of the cliff face that occasional glimpses of the beautiful green of the waving fronds may be obtained.

The occasional palms that can be seen by looking up into the face of the cliff appear to be growing in rocky niches, high over head, and one would never suspect that other palms were growing up and beyond the ones in sight.

It was due to the information obtained from Mr. Eli Shelton, of Vicksburg, that I found the largest group of palms, as he had been there with a party and had obtained some very beautiful photographs.

Armed with this information, we knew just what to look for and found that what, from the canyon floor, appeared to be a mere niche high up in the north wall, with two or three palms growing in it, was actually a perfect jungle of palms of all sizes extending back into the mountain for about 200 yards.

To get into this “land where the palm tree grows,” it was necessary to climb very steeply upward about 200 feet above the canyon floor and finally lift oneself up through a perfect slot between sheer walls, with barely room enough for a man to squeeze through. At this point my barometer registered 2400 feet above sea level.

As we emerged from this slot, or narrow throat, we found ourselves looking up a steep and rough, narrow chasm, with sheer walls apparently rising to the skies and nowhere over 40 feet apart at the base but studded as far back as one could see with palms of all sizes and in all conditions of growth and decay.

The tallest ones, from 40 to 50 feet in height, were mostly in the last stages of growth, and were thinning and dying at the tops.

Young trees with their fronds still hanging to the ground were interspersed among their elders, while the extremely steep and boulder strewn chasm bed was a mass of logs, dead leaves and seed stems, which, with the sheen of the waving green fronds confronting the eye, gave very much the appearance of a miniature tropical jungle.

We worked our way slowly up through this jungle for about 200 yards to a point where the palms thinned out to nothing, and where the chasm ended in a sheer rock wall that was unscalable. In that short distance there were approximately 55 palm trees of all ages and sizes, the tallest approximately 50 feet in height, with a diameter of twenty inches, and the smallest mere babies.

One of the fallen logs we measured was 36 feet in length, but as part of the butt was gone we estimated that it had easily measured 50 feet from the base to the top of the fronds when it was at full growth.

The securing of good photographs was extremely difficult, as the sky was overcast with clouds, and the slope of the chasm was so steep that if one pointed the camera up the gulch, and held it anywhere near level, all that could be seen in the finder were the boles, while only the tops showed when pointing down gulch. It was therefore necessary to take all pictures with a good deal of up or down tilt to the camera, which plainly shows in the results.

That this jungle had been visited by “white men” was evidenced by the injurious and unsightly carving of initials on several of the large palms, and someone's sense of “fun” had been satisfied by setting fire to the downhanging fronds of a small tree. No other signs of fire were visible, which was rather remarkable, considering the amount of dry litter covering the ground.

The tallest of these palms give indications of great age, which may be judged to some extent by the growth rings that are clearly discernible in the photographs, and which indicate wet and dry periods that may occasionally have been of several years duration. It therefore seems conservative to place the age of some of these palms at between 250 and 400 years, especially when it is considered that the area in which they grow is in a region of five-inch rainfall, or less; that there is no permanent water or moisture about their roots and that the soil in which they are rooted is composed of scanty gravel and decomposed rock and boulders.

How they originated in this area will never be positively known, but, since this type of palm produces a seed about one eighth by one-quarter of an inch in size which could be easily swallowed and carried by birds, they may have been introduced in this manner. It is also known that the Indians have used these seeds as food and, in consequence, they may have been brought in by wandering bands from Mexico or elsewhere in ages past.

As to the variety, I learned from Dr. Thornber on my return to Phoenix that about 1927 Dr. O. F. Cook of the U. S. Department of Plant Industry visited this canyon and made an exhaustive study of the palms with the result that he pronounced them to be a new species and gave them the name Washingtonia Arizonica, or Arizona Palm.

As is usual when new discoveries are made, some botanists disagree with Dr. Cook, maintaining that our Arizonica is merely a descendant of the southern California palm (Washingtonia filifera) brought here “by Indians or early travelers.” Dr. Thornber and I had considerable correspondence regarding these palms and the following extracts from his letters clearly show his conclusions: The discovery of palms in mountain canyons in Yuma county came to my attention about 1925 or 1926. Prospectors brought specimens of a piece of leaf and a few seeds. The discovery was interesting and novel in that it was the first real verification of an old story that 'wild palms had been found in mountain canyons' in western Arizona.

“I talked with Dr. O. F. Cook later concerning the Arizona palm and he expressed the opinion that they represented a new species.

“The leaf of the Arizona palm you sent me last winter is the first one of this species that I have seen and is quite different from the leaf of the California fan palm in the greatly enlarged ligule which occurs at the base of the blade of the leaf at the union of the leaf stalk, or petiole, and the blade.

“We are quite willing to admit that this is a new species of palm and that it is entitled to be called by a new name -Arizonica.

“I think your statement to the effect that these palms have been growing in this Canyon for 1,000 years or more is very conservative, and I think you might be justified in saying that they have been growing in this canyon for several thousand years.” Palm Canyon is now included within the Kofa Game Range, recently created by presidential proclamation, and as there is evidence that these palms are beginning to die out through lack of soil and moisture, it is hoped that something will be done to perpetuate Arizona's only Native Palms in their native habitat..