Destination: Spring

The seasons come and the seasons go, but their comings and goings do not change much the serene and unruffled appearance of the desert. A photograph, for instance, taken in mid-December in Saguaro National Monument would not be unlike a similar photograph taken in June, allowing, of course, for the seasonal variation in the intensity of light. Desert plants, to survive, are xerophytic (boy, how fancy can we get, slinging words around?), meaning that they are plants which are adapted to dry places and have a small water requirement. In an area where the average rainfall is from three to seven inches, plants cannot afford to take on fancy airs simply because the calendar announces the traditional divisions of the climatic merry-go-round called winter, spring, summer and autumn. If the desert ever gets volatile and frivolous it is during spring, a vague period, indeed, with no sharp lines of demarcation. Spring on the desert could be any time from February through May, depending upon the whims of the weather. In fact, if we have one of those real mild winters spring begins in January.

If one is asked, "When is the best time to visit the desert for spring's flower display?" one must, at best, answer hesitatingly and vaguely. The desert gets real showy and spruced up when the annual flowers break out in bloom after liberal winter and spring rains. But who the heck can tell whether it is going to rain? Millions and billions and trillions of wild flower seeds are scattered at this time over the broad and luxurious acres of the desert, but those seeds really know their way around. They are so designed by nature to remain dormant until they are assured of enough rainfall to produce their brilliant flowers of every color in the rainbow. Seeds mature quickly, the desert becomes a magic carpet of color, and then as quickly the blossoms fade and the wind-scattered seeds, very snugly wrapped up in their hard little shells, take it easy until the next spring when conditions are favorable for them to send forth their new blossoms. Years can pass, if the rainfall is slight and conditions unfavorable, for the annual wild flower display to delight the eyes and hearts of men.

OPPOSITE PAGE

"THE VIPER CACTUS" BY ROLAND A. HOTIN, Wilcoxia Diguetti is found near the Sonora boundary in southern Pima County and in scattered places throughout southern Arizona. The flowering time for this plant is generally in late July. The common name comes from the snake-like appearance of the slender branches.

The photograph of the Pink Easter Lily Cactus, page three this flower folio, was taken by Andree Robinson. Norton Allen is responsible for the study of the Orchid Cactus on page eight. All other flower portraits in this folio (with the exception of opposite page, credited above) are by R. C. and Claire Meyer Proctor. Mr. and Mrs. Proctor are noted for their cactus photography. Their contributions have added distinction to these pages for many years.

Destination: Spring CONTINUED

But you can always depend upon the Cactaceae, rain or shine. From February through July most of the members of Arizona's cactus family, so abundant and prominent in the desert regions of Arizona, display their showy and handsome blossoms, and nothing can so excite and please the lover of beauty or the photographer who seeks the beautiful as much as cactus flowers. With the exception of the saguaro, the largest succulent in the United States and the dominant feature of the Arizona desert landscape, most cactus plants are not particularly photogenic, but when the blossoms are put forth even the homeliest cactus plant of all presents a memorable vision of loveliness.

Joseph Wood Krutch, in his definitive study of the desert, "The Desert Year," reacts to the blossoming of the cactus plants in this fashion: "The omnipresent prickly pears, which grew thin and discouraged during the seven-month drought, grew plump again after the first real shower and are covered with the large, lemon-colored flowers which will presently give way to luscious-looking, purple fruits in incredible numbers . . .

"Other, smaller cacti are blooming, and so are the giant saguaros, at the ends of whose grotesquely curving arms there appear little circlets of creamy white flowers. The effect is modestly pretty but seems a little inadequate for so gigantic a plant, and it suggests the odd fact that in the cactus family there seems to be a strange lack of proportion between the size of the various species and the size of the blossoms they bear. The saguaro flower is smaller than that of the prickly pear; even more remarkable, many a fiveor six-inch variety, half-hidden under a shrub or a stone, bears flowers as large or larger than either. One hardly notices these plants until they bloom; and one would hardly notice the bloom on the saguaro had not the fortyor fifty-foot trunk long been the most conspicuous thing in the landscape."

Mr. Krutch, who didn't miss a thing when he lived in the desert, writes in his book: "Nevertheless, if I had to choose one plant to express the spirit of the Sonoran Desert -one which combines oddness of form and habit with courage to flourish under seemingly impossible conditions, and which combines also the defensive fierceness of thorns with the spectacular, unexpected beauty of brilliant flowers -I think I should choose the ocotillo." Others, in other desert areas, might choose the palo verde, the mesquite or the iron wood, the crucifixion-thorn or the smoke tree, the yucca or the agave, but, if one is fortunate enough to find a little old hedgehog about as big as a small pumpkin holding proudly aloft a gigantic purple flower, then one whose destination is spring has come, at long last, happily and triumphantly to the end of the journey . . . R.C.

A MAN WHO LOVES HORSES

-Continued from page five Roy, and he took up a correspondence course to gain this knowledge. Despite the determination with which he pursued his studying against all odds, he flunked the final examination after journeying to Kansas City, Missouri, but returned six months later and won the coveted diploma of a registered pharmacist. This still is "Exhibit A" in his Phoenix establishment today.

The senior Mr. Wayland had been in Colorado soon after the Civil War, and Roy dreamed of business opportunities in the West which he often had heard his father describe. So this lad in his teens began sending employment applications to drugstores in Solomonville and Phoenix. The first reply came from Solomonville. A job awaited him. He wired his acceptance pronto. Then came an offer of a Phoenix job, a bit bewildering indeed, but, hesitating to spend another dollar of his hoarded savings on a second telegram, he let his decision to go to Solomonville stand. After purchasing a one-way ticket to Arizona, $144.00 constituted his worldly wealth, and cautiously he left half of that with his sister.

There was much tugging at the heartstrings as the only son bade his family farewell and boarded the westbound Southern Pacific train to seek his fortune. At Bowie he changed to the Gila Valley, Globe and Northern Railroad, riding to within three miles of his destination. A relative of the family, Charlie Rawlins, a former New Franklin attorney then practicing in the territory, met him with a mountain buggy and together they jogged over "green fields and pastures new" to Solomonville.

By Arizona standards this tall, lanky boy had arrived about a decade too late to be classed a pioneer, i.e., one who was born in, or came to the territory before 1891. But if the trail blazers had accomplished much in taming the new frontier before he arrived, it wasn't immediately apparent to the farm boy from Missouri who got his first look at an Arizona mining camp. There were times, of course, when he secretly questioned the soundness of his judgment in trading life in peaceful New Franklin for the drabness of the mining camp. Perhaps, it was when frost was in the air and Roy knew that "back home" the red-haw trees with their crimson berries were blending with the sumac bushes on the fringe of white oak and hickory forests, sprinkled with the black walnut trees of the country. But this young boy with grim determination decided that not even homesickness would interfere with his career as a pharmacist in Dr. Lacey's drugstore. And besides, he had purchased only a one-way ticket, and must stick it out.

He found some solace in an important purchase-a sorrell saddle horse which he named "Ribbon." This depleted his funds to the extent of $20, plus another $5 for a second-hand western saddle. But it was worth it, for he was mighty proud to ride what he thought to be the finest steed in the community. Out of his meager earnings, he saved another $20 and made his first bank deposit in the Gila Valley Bank. Thus, he became one of the first depositors in what is better known today as the Valley National Bank, the largest banking chain in the Rocky Mountain States.His horse and his bankbook became Roy's proudest possessions.

A year passed, and Dr. Lacey's assistant grew a bit restless. Deciding to look over opportunities elsewhere, he pulled up stakes and traveled from Gallup, New Mexico, to Bakersfield, California, visiting Douglas, Flagstaff, Prescott and lastly Phoenix. An unusually interesting opportunity as clerk in the Territorial Legislature presented itself to him through the auspices of Major Kelley, a well-known and respected citizen of Arizona. Before this session closed in 1903, Roy was instrumental in getting the territory's first Pharmacy Law adopted.

With his abiding interest in pharmacy, he became assistant manager of the Arizona Copper Company's drugstore at Clifton, Arizona. In the nine years which followed he gained "a world of experience" in his chosen profession. The drugstore was the center of business activity in the bustling mining camp, and he was called upon to provide antidotes for scorpion stings and rattlesnake bites, and togive varied first aid treatment to the injured. In short, as he says today, "everything that could happen to a pharmacist happened to me there in that community."

To enter into the social life of this mining town, it was necessary to have some means of conveyance. So he purchased a big black horse, "Democrat," and a $35 mule called "Rastus." It was a 50-mile jaunt to Solomonville, but Roy rode this sure-footed mule over the mountains to attend dances on the week-ends. In a full dress suit, tails, top hat and all, he went a-courtin', plodding along for hours going and coming over the mountain trails. He may have been a bit sleepy-eyed when he reported for work bright and early on Monday morning, but he was on the job nevertheless.

In 1912, two years before Arizona gained statehood, young Wayland came back to Phoenix to form a partnership with Andrew Miller and purchase the "Lovett and Owl Drug Companies." Subsequently, he sold his interest at a profit. With this capital and a bank loan of $3,000, on which he paid the going rate of 10% interest, he acquired a drugstore of his own at Central Avenue and Washington Street in Phoenix, which for many years was known as "Wayland's Central Pharmacy."

During the years he worked for the Arizona Copper Company drugstore at Clifton, rising to the post of manager, Wayland had kept up his contract with the Gila Valley Bank and Trust Company, in which he had made his first deposit. Without being the least aware, he had attracted the attention of the bank's president, Charles E. Mills, while Mr. Mills was general manager of the Detroit Copper Mining Company at Morenci. Wayland hadn't the slightest notion that Charles E. Mills was watching his Phoenix venture; in fact, he had assumed the silent and reticent bank president didn't really like him.

Therefore, when a few hundred dollars was needed for the expansion of the Phoenix store, it was with considerable trepidation that Wayland went to the Valley Bank and applied for another loan. He was asked, "Didn't you know you have a $30,000 line of credit with this bank?" It was then he learned that Charles E. Mills, without even in-forming him, had given instructions some time previously that "if ever that young fellow, Wayland, needs credit in this bank, he is to receive up to $30,000."

There is little doubt that the unexpected line of credit of which Wayland made good use was another step in his subsequent rise to leadership in finance and business. It is said the incident was typical of Bank President Mills, who had an uncanny way of selecting ability, extending a helping hand and keeping his counsel well. Yet, when Wayland tried to express his appreciation and gratitude, Mills merely grunted. What Mr. Mills might have hoped, but hardly could have dreamed, was that Wayland would succeed him on the bank's board of directors upon his death in 1929, and that eventually the young pharmacist would hold Mills' position as chairman of the board.

But dreams of success for the business to which he "had hitched his star," dreams of the kind of horses he someday hoped to own, were still a distant goal for young Wayland, the drugstore owner. Yet in less than a score of years his store in the heart of the Phoenix business district became the city's leading pharmacy, and he also acquired a chain of stores which he eventually sold to Walgreens in 1929.

By then the acknowledged business leader of the Arizona capital city, Wayland was approaching the age when many men are considering plans for retiring, but on the contrary, he was ready to turn his attention to another career-namely, banking. Upon his election as a director of the Valley National Bank, Roy proposed a 12-story structure as the bank's new headquarters, envisioning, too, the need for a large downtown medical center. He had the doctors signed as tenants before plans for the structure were finished, and named it the "Professional Building." The Phoenix skyline was altered considerably by the erection of this beautiful, well-planned structure, and it was also a great boon in relieving unemployment in the bitter depression period of the time.

The Valley Bank moved into its spanking new building in February, 1932, from its old quarters at 30 West Adams

Street. Roy Wayland, in the interim, had become a vice president. Even a new building couldn't solve the problems which faced all banks in those trying years. A change of leadership was deemed necessary and Roy was one of the institution's officials who persuaded Walter R. Bimson, then associated with Harris Trust Company of Chicago, to become president of the Valley Bank and Trust Company. With a new building and a new president, the bank became known as the Valley National Bank in 1935, and launched forth on a prosperous new era.

Those were busy years, too, for Roy, who had opened the "Wayland's Prescription Pharmacy," the first of its kind in Arizona, on the ground floor of the new Professional Building. Then, in 1934, on leave of absence from the bank, he became head of Home Owners Loan Corporation for the state. In that capacity, he was instrumental in saving a large number of homes from foreclosure. On his return to his bank position, he organized its FHA Title I and Title II departments, with the assistance of Ralph E. Bruneau.They were called "the Ysabellas," after the queen who sent along a golden stallion and five mares with the first settlers of Mexico. In a few years, then, golden coats were glinting among the herds that roamed ranges to the north, and it was in early California that they picked up their name of Palomino, possibly from some outstanding figure of the era associated with them. One of the stories concerning the origin of their name is that a general of the cavalry named "Palomino" accompanied Spanish soldiers into Southern California, riding a Palomino with a beautiful white mane and tail to set off its coat of gold.

To own fine horses had long been a secret ambition, so he began with the tops in American Saddle Bred show horses -the golden-colored Palomino. Here was a horse to which a man could point with pride, for the ideal Palomino resembles pure gold-a newly minted gold coin being designated the standard color. Homer wrote of "the golden horses with fair manes," and Genghis Khan prized them. They flourished in Spain, presumably introduced by the Moors in their Arabian herds, and in Columbus' time were honored as the royal horses.

"The true Palomino," says Wayland, "should have no dapples, no black hairs. Some go through a stage of dapples during early development, or at certain times of the year when they are shedding. Sunlight affects the golden coat and most of them have better coats if kept in stalls which are not too bright.

"The mane and tail should be pure white, as this is an important attraction-and you rarely see a Palomino with a roached tail and mane.

"The Palomino may have a light or dark skin and the light-skinned horse will have amber or hazel eyes. The hide of the light-skinned is thinner than that of the dark-skinned, and the veins are nearer the surface. The light-skinned are not as numerous as the dark-skinned, and appear most frequently among horses of American Saddle Bred blood.

"Palomino is the coloring that occurs relatively and frequently among horses of many strains-coloring that sets off more beautifully than perhaps any other the darkness of saddle leather and the sparkle of silver mountings. It is beauty that has found Palominos prized down through the ages."

Just owning a few beautiful Palominos wasn't Roy Wayland's idea of how best to show his affection for horses. Within a few years he became one of Arizona's leading breeders of Palominos. One of his greatest thrills came when his five-gaited "Sun King," being shown at the Pomona, California show, placed second to "Midnight Star"-the horse which had been world champion for five years. These two strikingly beautiful horses had to be worked three times before the judges could reach a decision as to which should have first place. His famed "Cream of Wheat," shown throughout the Southwest and on the Pacific Coast, never was defeated. Today "Cream of Wheat, Jr." and "Golden Chance" are being shown among top Palominos in shows over the West.

Wayland's fondness for riding prompted him to organize the Maricopa County Sheriff's Posse, and to participate in annual rides ranging from an outing of a few days to a full week. He is a member of the Desert Caballeros, who ride into the desert and the mountains near Wickenburg; and of the Rancheros Visitadores of Santa Barbara, California, who ride each year for a week over the indescribably beautiful landscape of that area.

All this activity, as well as a fling at breeding of registered Hereford cattle, was accomplished by a man still active in banking and the pharmacy business. In addition, he became interested in Phoenix' Hotel Westward Ho and ably represented the owners of that enterprise for six years until it was sold by the Hecksher Estate. He became an authority on hotel management and was known from coast to coast by satisfied guests of the hostelry who returned each year to renew their association with him. He served as president of the Arizona Hotel Association and was its national representative.

He is a director and member of the executive committee of the Arizona Public Service Company; vice president of the Lincoln-Mercury Motor Company; vice president and director of the Read Mullan Motor Company; Arizona's only member of the RFC Advisory Board; member of the Civic Center Management Board; chairman of the University of Arizona's War Memorial Building Committee; director and life member of the Boy Scouts of