THE SOARING SANTA RITAS.

THE SOARING STORY AND PHOTOGRAPHS

South of Tucson a lofty mountain range slants upwards to clustered summits dominated by a graceful pointed peak against the sky. They can be seen from every part of the city, deep blue at midday, purple in the setting sun, black under the high-piled thunder clouds of summer, or tipped with the white of winter snows. These are the Santa Rita Mountains, historically, botanically, zoologically and climatically one of the most interesting areas in Arizona. Like giant beacons, these peaks loom above the ancient north-south route from Mexico and 'round their feet early Southwestern history was made. Spanish conquistadores in shining armor and black-robed Jesuit priests saw them nearly three centuries ago and presumably named them Sierra de Santa Rita. The first Indian missions in Arizona were planted near their base and the state's earliest white settlement was established at their west foot. The first gold and silver came from Santa Rita mines, the first sawmill cut Santa Rita timber, the first printing press turned out the first newspaper in the shadow of these peaks, and the first cattle grazed their slopes. They were also for centuries a stronghold of the savage, warlike Apaches and two Santa Rita summits commemorate pioneers killed by Indians. In fact, no other mountains in Arizona are so intimately associated with the early history of the state. But though the restless tide of human affairs has risen ever higher around the base of the Santa Ritas, man has as yet done little to alter the wild grandeur of these impressive mountains. Steep, rugged and scoured by deep canyons, they still offer a retreat from the everyday tensions of politics, cold wars, juvenile delinquency, and making a living. So nature lovers and outdoors enthusiasts can go there and enjoy a piece of original America left much as God made it. However, we modern explorers of a soft generation seldom object to lodges, comfortable beds, steak dinners, improved campgrounds and graded trails in our bit of wilderness, so the fact that all these can be found is no cause for complaint.

Rimming the Santa Cruz Valley with a great wall, twenty-five miles long and ten miles wide, the Santa Ritas sweep up to summits nearly 7,000 feet above the river. Like the Santa Catalinas, Huachucas, Chiricahuas and a half dozen other isolated mountain ranges, they are one of southeastern Arizona's surprising “Sky Islands.” For they rise sharply from the surrounding deserts and treeless grasslands into a cool northern climate and carry on their high shoulders a green oasis of oak, pine, fir and aspen forests, flower-spread meadows and little cascading streams. In fact, on the Santa Ritas are four of the seven North American life zones and a climb from base to top shows all the differences in climate, vegetation and animal life that you would encounter in a 2,000-mile trip northward.

SANTA RITAS

But in this stimulating island in the sky there is more variety than just altitudinal differences. Here, too, plants, birds and animals from Mexico, the Rocky Mountains and the Pacific Coast meet and mingle with numerous local species found nowhere else. The sharp-eyed visitor to the Santa Ritas may catch a glimpse of the tough, bristling peccary or wild hog, the strange, longnosed, tropical coati mundi or the rare and restricted Catalina gray squirrel, and in the past even the ocelot and jaguar were occasionally seen.

However, it is as an outstanding bird locality that the Santa Ritas are best known. Each spring birders from all parts of the country arrive with binoculars, field manuals and notebooks to spend strenuous days spotting birds up the canyons and over the mountaintops. Dr. Herbert Brandt in his sumptuous book, Arizona and Its Bird Life, lists 142 species that nest in the Santa Ritas, and at least 170 of the continent's 650 full species of breeding birds raise their young within sight of these soaring peaks. In the remote canyons live the exotic Richmond becard, the gorgeous, rainbow-hued, copperytailed trogon, wild turkeys, and at intervals of several years, thick-billed parrots stray north of the Mexican border for short visits. Naturalists will find this unique mountain range a treasure-house for study and exploration.

Tucsonians are indeed fortunate to have such a unique mountain range nearby. For the Santa Ritas are practically a suburban playground. They are easily reached in an hour or so by taking U. S. Highway 89 south to Continental, 25 miles, and turning left on a 12-mile graded dirt road. The latter leaves the irrigated green farmlands along the Santa Cruz River and makes directly for the rugged peaks outlined on the south-eastern horizon. It ascends the gentle valley slope through desert to the base of the mountains. There, cactus, yucca, mesquite and creosote bush suddenly give way to oak and juniper, and the road plunges into a deep, narrow valley enclosed between steep pine-clad walls, rising to rocky ridges 2,000 to 4,000 feet above. The road winds upwards, following the musical little stream through verdant archways of oaks, sycamores and cottonwoods. Numerous summer cottages are passed, tucked away among the trees, and in a delightful sylvan location is a rustic lodge where meals and accommodations are available. The road ends in a wooded cove, 5,300 feet elevation. This is the end of the line for motorists, but commodious improved campgrounds here make good headquarters for exploring the mountains beyond by trail, afoot or horseback.

The Santa Ritas are within a detached section of Coronado National Forest and the United States Forest Service maintains the Madera Canyon road, the campgrounds and many miles of graded trails. Most popular is the trail to the glass-sided forest fire lookout station Atop Mount Wrightson, 9,432 feet altitude, the Santa Ritas' highest peak. If you don't feel that you can trust your own two legs to carry you 6 miles and up 6,000 feet, it might be well to hire four others at the lodge. But whether you climb Mount Wrightson on foot or on a horse, it is one of Arizona's most spectacular one-day mountain trips and is well worth doing.

The trail leaves the road-end campgrounds and ascends the steep forested upper end of Madera Canyon. Through the trees are glimpses of Mount Wrightson's bare, rocky cone rising incredibly high above. The head of the canyon is reached at a pass, 6,000 feet elevation, where a view southward suddenly opens down Josephine Canyon and across miles of wrinkled hills into Mexico. Here a trail to the west branches to Mount Hopkins, 3 miles, officially 8,072 feet, but actually 500 feet higher. From its summit is an extensive panorama over the Santa Cruz Valley, a mile below, and westward to rows of high desert mountains on the distant horizon.

From the pass, the trail to Mount Wrightson turns east and tackles the steep, cliff-topped main ridge of the Santa Ritas. The way zigzags up through fine open stands of Arizona pine, five-needled cousin of the ubiquitous ponderosa, and threads sun-dappled groves of white-stemmed aspens, their leaves constantly whispering in the breeze. These airy slopes are a favorite haunt of the white-tailed deer and usually several groups can be seen peacefully browsing beneath the pines. It is estimated that there are a million and a quarter board feet of growing timber on the upper slopes of the Santa Ritas. An Oregon sawmill could gulp it all in less than a week and whine for more. However, the value of these isolated skyland forests above the deserts of southeastern Arizona is not economic, but rather recreational and inspirational. They should be preserved intact and guarded as a priceless natural heritage to be enjoyed for all time.

the Santa Ritas. The way zigzags up through fine open stands of Arizona pine, five-needled cousin of the ubiquitous ponderosa, and threads sun-dappled groves of white-stemmed aspens, their leaves constantly whispering in the breeze. These airy slopes are a favorite haunt of the white-tailed deer and usually several groups can be seen peacefully browsing beneath the pines. It is estimated that there are a million and a quarter board feet of growing timber on the upper slopes of the Santa Ritas. An Oregon sawmill could gulp it all in less than a week and whine for more. However, the value of these isolated skyland forests above the deserts of southeastern Arizona is not economic, but rather recreational and inspirational. They should be preserved intact and guarded as a priceless natural heritage to be enjoyed for all time.

After passing a welcome cold spring bubbling out below the precipitous face of Mount Wrightson, the trail corkscrews up a narrow cleft in the summit cliffs and comes out on the main ridge of the Santa Ritas at 8,750 feet elevation. Here, another trail takes off down the east side of the mountains and passes a second spring and a Forest Service patrol cabin about a quarter mile below the top. A detour is recommended, as it would be difficult to find a more charming retreat than this picturesque log building hidden away among the sheltering pines of a peaceful, sequestered, mountaintop valley.

There is also a very scenic 9-mile trail leading north along the lofty ridge of the Santa Ritas. It traverses pine woods, aspen groves and grassy meadows just below the highest summits, and gives widespread views out over the country below. After crossing Florida Pass, the trail descends the long defile of Florida Canyon, first through a fine forest of Douglas firs, then pine and juniper, and finally down open, oak-dotted slopes to the headquarters of the Santa Rita Experimental Range, near Madera Canyon at the west base of the mountains.

From the divide, the main trail now turns south and scales the final peak of Mount Wrightson, which rises in a sharp, barren cone, 700 feet above the ridge. In places hewn out of solid rock and bolstered here and there by masonry walls, the dizzy route turns and twists