The Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum

Desert Museum

letters of an elderly Connecticut Yankee transplanted by choice to a foreign land, dry and warm.

He began to observe (in print) that the most serious charge that can be brought against his old home, New England, "is not Puritanism, but February." Or as an even older saying goes, attitude is everything. Perception more shapes human behavior than experience. And nowhere moreso, than on the desert.

In my own strange wanderings of 40 years and more, desert dwellers have contributed to a mosaic of lure and lore: -W. G. (Gig) Kneeland, desert-wise newsman: "Well, homes have coolers and refrigerators now, but I remember when there was little or no ice. Water was cooled in ollas made of porous clay and hung in the shade. Perishables were kept in a desert coolera box of shelves covered with wet burlap."

-Louis R. Jurwitz, bringer of modern meteorology to Arizona: "Sure it can get hot and dry. How about 127 degrees in the shade at Parker, on July 7, 1905? Or less than half an inch of rain at Wellton for the entire year of 1928?

Frances Nutt, biographer of desert humorist Dick Wick Hall: "He said he kept a frog that carried a canteen to keep the moss on his back green. And once he wrote that it was too hot to quarrel, so the Ladies Aid Society didn't meet that week."

Dr. Herbert L. Stahnke, pioneer in the study of venomous desert animals: "Considering the great numbers of people and great numbers of poisonous creatures, the fact that so few people are stung or bitten is a testimony to the nonaggressive behavior of desert animals."

Dana Burden, dude rancher: "I have been in famous temples and cathedrals, but to me nothing is as spiritually inspiring as a desert overlook at sundown."

Ida Redbird, Native American potter in her home of wattled mud: "They are slipped with iron oxide and burnished with pebbles and fired on the ground. But it all starts with the clay I dig myself. I dig it and taste it. If it is sweet and earthy, it is good. If it is salty, it will not make good pots."

Douglas Rigby, author of Desert Happy: "Although minus the bombast of desultory human wars, war on the desert is continuous; and among plants here, where drought's the norm and often abnormally protracted, the ceaseless battling for survival often seems ferocious, and it provokes such fantastic accomplishments in endurance that studious men must marvel."

-Bottle Bob (who would answer to no other name, and who built a desert house entirely of empty wine bottles): "I live alone, me and my burros, Loco and Lobo. I deserve a pretty house."

-Goldie Richmond, miner and trapper at a trading post outside Ajo: "It was a lynx cat. It measured 42 inches from its nose to its stubby tail.... My husband pushed through a big desert hackberry, and the big cat jumped. I grabbed and choked with all my might, held on because I didn't dare let go. Finally it went limp. Do you want to see my eight-inch scar?"

-William Coxon, respected amateur archeologist: "I am convinced, through the study of inscriptions pecked into desert rock, that the North American continent was fully explored by Israelites 10,000 years ago."

-Robert Peebles, coauthor of Arizona Flora: "I look into the bloom of a hedgehog cactus and see the eye of creation."

-Charles S. Mott, of Flint, Michigan, at the time worth some $500 million: "Every year I come down here and adopt the nickname of Desert Dick and wear old clothes and visit my desert friends. They never ask me of anything, except myself. That's how desert people are."

-Peggy Kater, who in 1949 settled at the junction (named Why) of Arizona highways 85 and 86-no water, no store, no electricity, no telephone: "Why do we stay in Why? We love the beautiful sunsets, the clear smog-free air, the giant saguaros, that first cool breeze from the Gulf on a hot summer's night, and most of all, our good neighbors and friends.... Why Why? Why not?"

Over 200 species of live animals are exhibited at the Desert Museum, most in natural settings. One of the cleverest of the creatures to be seen is the prairie dog, left and inset box at right. In addition to a walk-in aviary, where four different habitats provide natural settings for 80 species of wild birds, two outdoor "Bird Circles" house such strange and fascinating desert dwellers as the red-tailed hawk and barn owl, right, above, and the turkey vulture, far right.

Desert Museum

All of such sentiment and sense has a home. At about the time Dr. Krutch was charming America with his true tales of "The Mouse That Never Drinks," and "The Contemplative Toad," and "What the Desert is Good For," there came into being an extraordinary institution, the ArizonaSonora Desert Museum, 14 miles on a paved road from Tucson, Arizona. Two men founded it; today it has a membership of 14,000 across the nation and around the world. Exhibiting methods originated at the Desert Museum have been adopted by numerous other zoological gardens.

"I can't think of another similar institution of its kind that has come so far, so fast, from scratch," says the current director. Dan Davis.

A long-time National Park Service ranger with specialties in archeology, Davis this day could hypnotize us with his years of service at Casa Grande, a four-story tower built by vanished peoples on the desert about A.D. 1350. Before the Hohokams disappeared their culture included 600 miles of irrigation canals (some 75-feet wide and 12-feet deep), ball courts, copper casting methods, and jewelry of turquoise and shell.

But at this moment, Davis is afire with his museum's story. Sixtyish, of mellow baritone, gently: "Nor do I know of a museum that's so influenced environmentally an entire region.

"To my mind, the success is based on interpretation.

"As practiced by the Desert Museum, interpretation grows out of at least a halfdozen guidelines. We try to tell a complete story, as related to an individual visitor. We talk to children in their language. Interpretation is revelation, and it must be relevant to what is shown or described. Interpretation can be taught as an art, which it is."

Davis speaks proudly of the Desert Museum's outreach to young people. For nearly a decade special desert exhibit vans have spread the gospel of desert goodness to tens of thousands of children. Docents in lectures at schools have reached 150,000 more. By now some young people have taken four and five field trips apiece. They have grown to become adult naturalists. Daughters of museum docents are now docents. "Propagandizing," says Dan Davis with a smile, "an entire generation as to the values of the desert."

Such accomplishment, in exactly three decades, begins with the imagination and drive of co-founder William H. Carr. While an associate curator at the American Museum of Natural History in New York, he came to believe that museums and zoos should not just display things, but educate, "as a means of helping man to recognize and assume his responsibilities toward nature in order to gain some hope of insur-ing his future."

Thus, humanist first and ecologist second, Bill Carr designed an interpretive museum for Bear Mountain State Park on the Hudson River. The goal was to bring nature to the people. The notion now seems almost a cliche, but at the time when zoos were little more than animal prisons, Carr was a revolutionary.

Ill health overtook the man in 1949. On doctor's orders, he was banished to the desert. In four centuries of Old World infiltration, the Sonoran Desert never acquired a better friend.

Ill health overtook the man in 1949. On doctor's orders, he was banished to the desert. In four centuries of Old World infiltration, the Sonoran Desert never acquired a better friend.Carr discerned no wasteland. Obviously, scant moisture fell upon most of the region known as the Sonoran Desert, reaching from the Colorado Plateau to the tip of Mexico's Baja California Peninsula. But this expanse, comprising half the area of Texas, also encircled lush islandlike uplands. Everywhere the land supported amazing forms of plant and animal life, loosed powerful if intermittent waters, shoved a shore into the Pacific Ocean, and embraced a vast desert sea, the Gulf of California.

In kinship with Van Dyke, Carr crisscrossed the Sonoran. In a single day, he drove his car from a subtropical palm canyon to a patch of Alpine tundra, climatologically equal to a journey from Mexico to Canada. He observed native fish prospering in landlocked water holes. With binoculars he watched bighorn sheep traverse near-vertical cliffs. He studied a host of ingenious insects and tuned in to a chorus of desert birds. To Bill Carr, such marvels and mysteries were deserving of a tangible, intellectual celebration. He found an angel and ally in Arthur N. Pack, an editor of Nature magazine. With his own funds and later with a grant from the American Nature Association, Pack supported planning which led Pima County to offer an abandoned adobe building on the granite slopes above Tucson.

Termite-ridden and vandalized, the structure held little promise. But its setting! Forests of cactus commingled withdesert shrubs. The panorama from the porch took in a sweeping green-gray valley flanked by six mountain ranges. Carr, Pack, a nucleus staff, and a platoon of volunteers rounded up a few representative animals and flung open the doors on Labor Day, 1952, not knowing whether anybody would show up.

As Reader's Digest recalled later, “Cars overflowed the parking lot and spread onto the main road. The animals appeared to like it, too. When the ocelot, jaguarundi, and bobcats were released in their new homes, their appetites doubled. One night a door was left open by mistake, and several beavers went off exploring in the manner of their wild kin. By dawn they had returned. Their footprints in the desert dust revealed that they had strolled out in the moonlight, met a coyote, and then swiftly scampered back to their cage.” The rush of human visitors now totals 7 million, at an annual rate of 600,000. The guests have proven to be a loving lot. So well-mannered are the Desert Museum's visitors, likely it is the only institution of its kind which has never felt the need of hiring guards.

There are city zoos, county zoos, state zoos, large and small. By custom they draw a line around a mental man-made map. But, from the beginning, the Desert Museum assumed a concern not only for the Sonoran Desert but adjoining arid lands. Even across international boundaries.

As if the Sonoran in area and aspect were not enough. The Sonoran: 120,000 square miles, rivaling Death Valley as among the hottest and driest places in North America, the most species-rich of the four deserts of the continent. But audacious ambition could be the key. In the late 1950s, museum leaders took on the establishment, which had classified the roadrunner as a predator bird subject to year around hunting. The museum solved that injustice by having the roadrunner classified as a migratory songbird subject to federal protection. Likewise protection was extended to the shy, retiring Gila monster-first venomous animal ever to enjoy sanctuary under the law.

Such activities helped the Desert Museum to become one of the few selfsupporting natural history institutions in the country, relying entirely upon admissions, memberships, and contributions. Fondly remembered are Pearl Alexander and Mabel Swann, widowed sisters who drove an old car and lived in a small house and bequeathed the museum $600,000. That gift among others helped create and maintain what William G. Conway, then general director of the New York Zoological Society, termed “the most advanced, most sensitive exhibition of live animals on earth.”

Exhibits push realism to the extreme

Natural beauty, life, and mystery combine to give visitors to the Desert Museum an experience many life-long arid land dwellers never get. Major participants in the marvelous living outdoor world of nature are the coatimundis, left and right, relatives of the raccoon, shown here in their own simulated habitat; the elusive and magnificent bighorn sheep, far right; and the bobcat, below, right, at home in the rocks and crevices of the Small Cat Canyon. and if safe, encourage touching.The tale is told of an eight-year-old girl confronted by a towering museum ranger, who asks: “Did you touch the desert tortoise back there?”

“N-n-no, sir! Honest!”

“Wouldja like to?” invites the ranger, leading the girl to a close encounter with a docile reptile.

Elsewhere, bobcats, margays, and ocelots lounge about enclosures sculptured and planted like desert gulches. Beavers and otters occupy enclosures seen as desert rivers. Prairie dogs endlessly remodel their subterranean town. Birds of 80 species enliven a walk-through aviary. Along hiking trails flourish 300 kinds of native plants. Sometimes at night, a wild coyote will creep into the unfenced museum grounds and snap up a field mouse. To even the score, one museum bobcat occasionally escapes to hunt in the adjoining desert.

American Education chose the museum for a cover story. Sports Illustrated flatly listed the Desert Museum as one of the “five finest zoos” in the nation, with by far the best collection of North American animals. When the British Broadcasting Corporation filmed what it judged to be the world's seven best zoos, only two were named in the United States: San Diego's and the Arizona-Sonora.

And those accolades preceded the completion of the Desert Museum's latest triumph, the Stephen H. Congdon Earth Sciences Center. At a cost of $700,000, artificial caves of incredible realism honeycomb the earth. Nearly twice as many visitors went through these caves last year than saw the famous Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico.

The visitors saw: wet and dry limestone vaults complete with stalactites, stalagmites, ledges, and flows; homes of bats and rodents; dramatic presentations of the earth's creation and evolution; exhibits of precious stones and rare minerals; and evolution of myriad life forms. Adventturesome “spelunkers” are encouraged to strike off, Tom Sawyer-like, on steep, narrow detours.

Resins, plastics, paints. Yet so realistic, one recent patron congratulated a museum The margay, below, is among the stars in the Desert Museum's small animal collection. An endangered species, it inhabits the forest of southern Sonora. Along with bobcats and ocelots, the margay cats occupy open-air enclosures that have the appearance of their desert homes. Herb McReynolds (Inset) Otters inhabit a glass-walled look-alike desert pool along with several beaver. Here water-sport fun is the order of the day, to the delight of young and old who view the show through glass ports below the water level. Gill Kenny/Herb McReynolds

Desert Museum

According to the curator on taking advantage "of such fine natural formations so fortuitously located on the museum grounds."

Nor is there a lack of controversy. Dr. Ingeborg Poglayen shrugs. A naturalized Austrian of later middle age, animal psychologist of world reputation, she clips off an opinion in precise modulated English: "The animals cannot argue in their own behalf. Who speaks for them? I do, for one."

Inge, at present, is in the thick of the desperate struggle to save the Mexican wolf from extinction. Once it was frequently seen in Arizona. The last was shot in 1963. Now the subspecies holds a precarious niche in the areas of Durango and Chihuahua in Mexico. Even there, the numbers have shrunk to under 50. Only 12 are in captivity and four of those at the Desert Museum.

"It is the perfect example of conflict between civilization and the natural world. Once the wolf preyed upon deer. Then came the cattle, and the wolves turned to calves. Understandably, livestock growers retaliated. There are many poor people. They should have to put up with wolves? "But won't the richness of the planet's fauna be diminished by the disappearance of such a highly specialized animal? So we try."

She tries to unravel the puzzles of the wolf rank orders, of wolf nursing habits, of wolf murder of wolf.

Some projects are easier. Many "roadside casualties" now come to the Desert Museum for emergency care and recuperation. Some permanently crippled remain. Some of them reproduce and their offspring then return to the wild. Still others, like the thick-billed parrot, defy encouragement to multiply. The museum shelters several pair, and for three years, no chicks.

"I'm stumped," Inge admits. "Is it diet, stress, proper pairing? The animals of our region can at times defy understanding. Usually it's easier to raise African lions in a downtown zoo than it is to make mates of native cats."

On a happier note, other research shows sensational results. Alarmed by steady decline of bird populations of islands in the Gulf of California, The Desert Museum and The California Academy of Science scientists joined with Mexican authorities in discussions which ultimately led to establishment of refuges. Also endangered are sea turtles of the Pacific, off the coast of Mexico. Again in cooperation with Mex-ico, the museum has conducted research to determine what can be done to save the turtles.

Such sympathy prevails on the American side, too. Animals of the desert mostly are evaders of dryness and heat, although some have devised marvelous means of coping. The desert tortoise magically appears (old-timers swear) when and where it will rain, and drinks a pint of water to last a season. The antelope ground squirrel owes its existence not so much to succulent foliage, as to a possibility of elevating its temperature during the hot part of the day. More amazing is the kan-garoo rat which satisfies its water needs by breaking down the carbohydrates of dry seeds, never taking a drink of free water from birth to death, and an espe-cially efficient kidney. The spadefoot toad waits underground in lowlands for rain to form a pond. Then the toad emerges to breed; one month after conception, functioning adults take on enough water to last a year and burrow into the mud for a long sleep.

Birds, too, hew to desert conditions. The Gila woodpecker and gilded flicker excavate well-insulated condominiums in saguaro cactuses. By teamwork, Gambel's quail decoy egg-lusting lizards. In winter and summer, the desert poorwill goes into a torpor, its breath and heart all but stopped.

"Nothing of the desert," adds Inge, "as of life everywhere, is less than miraculous."

Younger, no less enthusiastic, is Dr. Mark Dimmitt, curator of plants. Tall, brown, lean, fiercely mustachioed, 36, he speaks for several thousand species of Sonora Desert plants.

Consider:

Hers's stigma, to produce food for the insect's larva.

The beauty and variety of Sonoran desert plants appeal to the naturalist in everyone but especially visitors to the Sonoran Desert Museum. Here 300 kinds of native species, from the great organ pipe cactus to the smallest wild flower, help visitors to recognize and appreciate the wealth and beauty of the arid regions of the Southwest. Much of it is arranged for a closeup view (opposite page) with pathways lined with native plants, and (above) animal exhibits that encourage "hands on" involvement, as with this tiny lizard.

Gill Kenny/Herb McReynolds

Desert Museum

Widely distributed, the creosote bush typifies desert adaptation. Small of leaf, it discourages evaporation, but it awaits the lightest rain shower with an extensive root system. Seldom do the bushes grow taller than a man, but it is now revealed that individual plants may be as old as the bristlecone pine, the oldest of living things.

"To me," says Mark Dimmitt, "it becomes a moral or ethical challenge as to whether we should treat with care some plant as odd as the boojum tree, that grows out of the ground like a big carrot. Or the annuals, which cover the desert with wild flowers. Or a species of certain Mexican hedgehog cactus that exists in only remnant pockets.

"An argument can be made for our own self-interest. Humanity hasn't yet proved itself, in geologic time, as say, the shark, or even the dragon fly. Three-fourths of our pharmaceuticals today are derived (Below) Beautifully painted ceramic tiles serve as identifiers for the many different bird species in the aviary, a popular and peaceful spot.

(Right) Artist Nick Wilson is responsible for the Desert Museum's prize-winning posters which dramatize the exotic and fascinating wildlife of the arid lands of the Southwest.

from plants. There's a strong possibility of some day looking to the desert for raw rubber or quantities of oils for special uses. There is a selfish reason for maintaining species diversity, both in plants and animals."

The philosophy is echoed by former museum staffer, Dr. Richard Felger. He roams the world in search of seeds, which he studies at his museum lab. He interviews desert people from Israel to Australia for insights into past uses of arid plants as sources of food. He makes a career of his favorite subject, "foods of the future from ancient plants."

On the Sonoran Desert alone, Dr. Felger points out, prehistoric peoples utilized some 450 species of plants as food. Why clear land and flood it with water and spray insecticides, when the same land potentially could yield harvests of precisely adapted native species?

"More research is needed," says he, "but the day may come when we will turn to the deserts of the world for the very food-stuffs of survival."

In furtherance of such outlooks labors Muffin Burgess of the museum's office of education. From its inception, the Desert Museum has led field trips for members and visitors, and today the program has grown to a year around curriculum. Young, pretty, and enthusiastic, Muffin is asked to run down a list of her favorite excursions into understanding.

"Oh, my," says she, rolling her eyes. "There are so many. But I really enjoy our saguaro harvest week in June. We join our friends, the Papago and Pima Indians, as they harvest the fruits of the giant cactus. They use long poles to knock down the fruit, and we have a chance to taste and learn about native foods.

"Our 'nightstalkers' time in July brings out people who want to see the desert at night, when much of it is most active. Nocturnal creatures are seen for the first time in some setups under black light.

"A program we call 'Man and the Land' is intriguing. We make a tour of various places where great change is occurring and has occurred in urban areas. We try to appreciate what has happened, so that future change might be put into perspective.

"A favorite trip of my own is to the Pinacate volcanic field in El Gran Desierto of Mexico, near the mouth of the Colorado River. That's about 5000 square miles of the most desolate land in the Sonoran Desert.

"And there's so much more-survival schools, high mountain study hikes, float trips through the Lower Grand Canyon, a tour of Sonora's northeastern Sierra. But sometimes I feel a greater reward from a simple half-day stroll leading a casual group down a desert wash. Not long ago, I was with such a group doing the 'Anatomy of an Arroyo,' and one woman blurted out, 'I've lived here 40 years and I didn't know that!'"

When there were only a few 40-year-old veterans who didn't know that, perhaps it didn't matter.

But people keep coming to the desert, in accelerating numbers. At statehood in 1912, the population of Phoenix reached 22,000, and the class graduating from the one high school consisted of 31 boys and 17 girls. "Main 6" sufficed as the telephone number of the cold storage plant. The sharpest banker in town forecast that "by the year 2000, Phoenix could well be a city of 100,000." By 1955 Phoenix still was small: 155,000 people in 29 square miles. Today the city nudges a million. Tucson similarly has grown. Development and recreation reach into the desert, leading a thoughtful writer to ask his fellow residents and visitors, "Can the desert survive you?"

William H. Carr lives on, as spritely director emeritus of his Desert Museum. In his book, Pebbles in Your Shoes, he refers to his museum as "my beloved child." At it's birth he said, "The idea we are thinking here is outdoor conservation education as typified by the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum... education employed as a means of helping man to recognize and assume his responsibilities toward Nature in order to gain some hope of assuring his future. The time for widespread implementation of this kind of endeavor is now; before man succeeds in totally defiling his habitat and making it unlivable."

For as Dr. Krutch (first secretary of the Desert Museum) lectured in The Desert Year, the arid land reveals that "...courage is admirable even in a cactus; that an abundance of good things is perfectly compatible with a scarcity of others; that life everywhere is precarious, man everywhere small."

To humans who are tired, worried, or discouraged, I bequeath the silence, majesty, and peace of our great American desert...

To those who walk the trails, I bequeath the early morning voices of the birds and the glory of the flowered desert in springtime... ... the world so needs these things.

Bookshelf

by Mary Lu Moore Inquiries about any of these titles should be directed to the book publisher not ARIZONA HIGHWAYS.

MOUNTAIN ISLANDS AND DESERT SEAS: A NATURAL HISTORY OF THE U.S.-MEXICAN BORDERLANDS. By

Frederick R. Gehlbach. Texas A&M University Press, Drawer C, College Station, TX 77843. 1982. 298 p. $19.95, hardcover.

The natural diversity of the southwestern Borderlands is unparalleled. Through the words of the author, we tramp the canyons, lowlands, woodlands, and mountains, noting with his eyes all the subtle changes in vegetation, animal life, and geology. Plant communities and various birds and animals take on personalities of their own. A naturalist by profession, Dr. Gehlbach has travelled most of the area on foot or on horseback. Thus, nearly all that he recounts he has experienced firsthand, particularly in the habitats he cherishes most. He recalls the dynamic history of man in the Borderlands region and encounters the legacy of man's past and present negligence. Without belaboring the issue, the author warns that availability of water is the ultimately limiting source of man's activities in the desert. He leaves his readers with some sobering philosophic observations of his assessments and with his outlook and recommendations for the future. In sum this volume is one man's perceptive, educated, personal account of his encounter with the natural (and sometimes unnatural) environment which he strives to understand and then interpret to others. The well-written text is supported bycolor photographs, many black-and-white illustrations, three aerial maps, and a meticulous index. This is deeply reward-ing reading for those even mildly inter-ested in the environment and the region from the mouth of the Rio Grande toCalifornia's Imperial Valley.

MAMMALS OF THE SOUTHWEST: By E. Lendell Cockrum. University of Ari-

Arizona Press, Box 3398, Tucson, AZ 85722. 1982. 176 р. $11.95, hardcover; $5.95, softcover.

The inspiration for this comprehensive, authoritative guidebook came from penand-ink drawings by the late SandyTruett. She provided the sensitive, trueto-life illustrations, and Dr. Cockrum, an internationally known authority on desert biology and ecology, supplied the data. Arrangement is by biological order, then by family within each order. For all 80 entries there are: common and scientific names; identifying features; English and metric measurements; habitat; life habits; related species, if any; one of Truett's line drawings; and a map showing geographic distribution in the area of Arizona, New Mexico, southern Utah and Colorado, West Texas, and northern Mexico. The author provides a list of suggested readings and a convenient index to species. This handy pocket-sized resource will serve the needs of those wishing to identify and learn about the varied species of mammals in Arizona and the Greater Southwest.

HORNED LIZARDS: UNIQUE REPTILES OF WESTERN NORTH AMERICA. By

Wade Sherbrooke. Southwest Parks and Monuments Assn., P.O. Box 1562, Globe, AZ 85501. 1981. 48 p. $8.95 plus $1.50 mailing.

The "horny toad" has been a beloved desert dweller since prehistoric times. Its adaptability to temperature and terrain is truly amazing. The horned lizard's complete life history, geographical distribution of species, and role in the life and art of man are eloquently detailed in a highly readable narrative and in vivid color photographs, maps, and diagrams. There is a list of related readings and a chart of horned lizard species found in U.S. National Park Service areas. Thanks to Sherbrooke, a graduate zoologist and arid lands specialist, the seven species of horned lizards in the western United States take on significance and personality as we follow them through their lives in the arid regions of the West.

DEATH VALLEY: THE STORY BEHIND THE SCENERY. By William D. Clark.

KC Publications, P.O. Box 14883, Las Vegas, NV 89114. 1980 rev. ed. 48 p. $7.95, hardcover; $3.00, softcover.

Death Valley: awesome in its vistas, beautiful in its landforms and spring flowers, devastating in its searing summer heat. These moods and more are captured in the magnificent color photography used so effectively throughout the book. The interesting and authoritative text surveys the Valley's vivid geological formations, surprisingly wide variety of plants and animals, unusual mining history, and, of course, "Death Valley Scotty" and his castle. The publication is flawed only by lack of mention of the remarkable F.M. "Borax" Smith, whose mining and railroad endeavors opened up Death Valley and made "Twenty Mule Team Borax" household words. For those who seek to know and understand this incredible desert monument, Clark's account is a must.

Reviewed by Judson Farquar

INTERNATIONAL WATER USE RELATIONS ALONG THE SONORAN DESERT BORDERLANDS. By Milton H.

Jamail and Scott J. Ullery. (Arid Lands Resource Information Paper No. 14.) Office of Arid Lands Studies, University of Arizona, 845 N. Park Ave., Tucson, AZ 85719. 1979. 139 p. $10.00, softcover.

In the Sonoran Desert there are no more crucial issues than those of availability of water, its quality, and its use. In an important major document on these vital subjects, the authors examine U.S.-Mexican water policies and relations and the attendant difficulties of resolving problems and conflicts arising from the artificial boundary which cuts across mountains and rivers irrespective of river basins. Thoroughly reviewed are various ramifications of water policies, stark realities of competition for water use on both sides of the international border, severe pollution-including appalling sewage disposal problems, conflict over groundwater sources, and increasing lack of sufficient water for all people and needs. Jamail and Ullery also note the significant influence of political considerations which overshadow sound water management. There are an exhaustive computerized bibliography, photos, a map, keyword and author indexes, and many additional references. Here is a substantial contribution to understanding a key problem which menaces the entire arid Southwest, and which so far has eluded binational solution.

Yours Sincerely

Comments and questions from around the state, the nation, and the world.

Dear Editor, Thank you very much for your article about General Crook's Trail. We had already planned a camping trip to Woods Canyon Lake and when we read about the trail, decided to make it part of our trip. We travelled 40 miles along FH300. The sights were magnificent, and we felt a thrill seeing parts of the original trail. It was almost as if we had been transported back in time 100 years. Your magazine was like a tour guide for us. We plan to take another camping trip to Lake Powell and will be taking the April, 1982, Arizona Highways magazine with us. Thank you for bringing out all the good in our state. We are proud to live here.

Michelle & Bill Kolbe Glendale, AZ Dear Editor, When the July issue of Arizona Highways was delivered by the postman all activity, as usual, came to a halt until it was perused from cover to cover. In continuing perfection year after year, the July, 1982 issue stands out as super-perfect. The history in this issue (history which is amazing and very interesting) makes the story of General George Crook and how he got along with the Indians a story of which every American can be very proud. And, of course, the Cooley part of the story is very important. We will hope to have more history-including the Cooleys -in future issues.

Frank E. Cooley, Jr. Fort Thomas, KY Dear Editor, A couple of years ago, my son, who lives in Phoenix, enhanced my life with a Christmas gift subscription to your outstandingly beautiful magazine. As an avid outdoorsman, I look forward to each month's copy, and read it from cover to cover. I am only let down when I reach the last page and realize that I must wait a month for the next issue. Your July, 1982, issue was superb, and I feasted my eyes on every detail of each picture. Hurry with my next copy.

James Frazer Flandreau, S. D.

Dear Editor, The selection of articles (July, 1982) on the historic General Crook Trail were superlative. Located in one of the most beautiful areas of the state, it's ironic that the trail hasn't received more exposure since 1976. Having traveled most of the trail by horse, covered wagon, or pickup, I believe that some of the Crook personality still exists on the trail. The past presence of the General's dominant personality and decisive command leaves an impression that all the ghosts haven't left the trail yet. My American History classes (last spring) invited Mr. Bowman to accompany us on horseback and covered wagon along the historic trail. The western intrigue and historic flavor he added to our trek was similarly duplicated in your July issue. Naturally, "there's nothing like the real thing," but for those unable to actually experience the trail, Mr. Bowman and your staff did an outstanding job of portraying it.

R.L. Kastelic Scottsdale, AZ Dear Editor, I can't find words to praise your magazine highly enough. Your writers and photographers are superb... marvelous. I feel as if I am there when I read the articles and enjoy the beautiful pictures. I am a city person, but love to live (in my mind) on the ranches of Arizona. One article which moved me to tears of joy was in your July, 1982, issue. It was "The Green, Green Grass of Home" by Joan Baéza and photos by Wayne Davis-about the Wilhelm family. I could close my eyes and see it all. Thanks for the many years of pleasure I have received from Arizona Highways.

Mary E. Kemper Lakewood, CO Dear Editor, The articles concerning General Crook's Trail in the July issue are especially thrilling for us. General Crook was my hus-

Barbara Thoma Dayton, Ohio

Dear Editor, We had most of our two week June vacation planned when the "Welcome to Flagstaff Country" issue of Arizona Highways came. We were going to spend some time in New Mexico but really hadn't decided how we would get there. After reading the June issue detailing all the places in Flagstaff to visit, our route was established. We visited both Meteor and Sunset craters. We spent time at the Coconino Center for the Arts, Pioneer Historical Society Museum, The Museum of Northern Arizona, and, while on the campus of Northern Arizona, we saw the J. Lawrence Walkup Skydome. It all boils down to one thing: spending just a few days in Flagstaff is not hardly enough. We are already talking of our next trip there.

Bob & Barbara Conner Bellflower, CA Dear Editor, From a temporarily transplanted Arizonan, a belated thank you for your beautiful March, 1982, issue with the outstanding pictures of Arizona in bloom. After a soggy winter and spring, the Alpine wild flowers are in bloom but can't hold a candle to the ones we love and remember well from the desert. By sharing our treasured copies of Arizona Highways with Swiss friends, they are learning that there's more to the United States than New York, Las Vegas, San Francisco, and Dallas. Prepare for tourists!

Jane F. Blaisdell Zurich, Switzerland Dear Editor, Our family just returned home after a three-week stay in upstate Arizona. It is 1:45 a.m., and I find myself delightedly flipping pages of past Arizona Highways when I should be sleeping! There are things I'll never forget-the special magic of the sycamore's bark done in pastel tints on white, the fragrance of the velvet mesquite, the majestic rustle of the Verde River cottonwoods, or the "feeling" of the Grand Canyon. And then the human things like Tlaquepaque in Sedona and the World's Oldest Rodeo at Prescott, and fascinating Indian ruins with strange sounding names like Tuzigoot and Wupatki. What a joy it will be to share all I've seen and learned with my school children here in Missouri. Your magazine will help me do that.

Norma Marshall Grain Valley, ΜΟ

Ray Manley

Your spirit is a part of widening space. For you have lived content Encompassed with its silence and its quietWhere changing patterns flow along horizon's rim To sweep in all-pervading beauty On and on.