Hike of the Month

HIKE OF THE MONTH Brown Mountain Presents a Classic Sonoran Desert Trek

It's only a dozen days before winter solstice, but I have to glance at my wall calendar before leaving home to see what month it is in southern Arizona. The station my car radio is tuned to announces the lateafternoon temperature: 75° F. Only a few wispy clouds way down on the southern horizon blemish an otherwise seamless vault of blue. There is no wind. I'm wearing hiking shorts, Tshirt, and a floppy hat as I step toward the trailhead. In my fanny pack, I carry two quarts of water, a flashlight, nylon windbreaker, and binoculars. Always binoculars. On the Brown Mountain Trail, it's 2.4 miles from the trailhead near Gilbert Ray Campground to the Juan Santa Cruz Picnic Area adjacent to the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum.To get to the Brown Mountain Trail, go west from Tucson across Gates Pass to Kinney Road. Turn right .6 of a mile to McCain Loop Road. Turn left .3 of a mile to the parking area on the right across from Gilbert Ray Campground. Always remember to tell the rangers or a family member where you are going and when you will return, wear a hat and plenty of sunscreen, and take at least two quarts of water per person.

WHEN YOU GO

Brown Mountain is actually three low hills that roughly parallel Kinney Road in Tucson Mountain Park west of the city. The hike itself is a series of climbs and descents across the hills. It's moderately strenuous, depending on your pace. Some days I go fast. Others I sit on a rock to watch the sunset or scope black vultures, rare in these parts, wheeling overhead. As warm as it is, I'm on thelookout for snakes, even this late in the year. Sure enough, I spot one. It's a small gopher snake, maybe a foot long, sunning itself on a rock. A rattlesnake mimic, it flattens its head and shakes its tail when frightened. I step around, leaving it to warm itself unmolested. From a distance, these hills appear brown and bare. But they're not. The vegetation is classic Sonoran Desert: dense stands of saguaro, lots of paloverde, ocotillo, creosote (lower down), jojoba (higher up), cholla, barrel cactus, and ironwood. Each time I hike here, I see something as if for the first time. Today it's standing saguaro skeletons, one in particular just where the trail crosses the second dry wash and begins to climb the first hill. Ribs bleached from long exposure to the desert sun, it stands erect beside the trail. Ten feet up where its trunk is split, the remains of a bird's nest spill over its edges. At its base, as if placed there by a gardener, grow three young saguaros, a foot to two feet tall. With long-lived saguaros, "young" is a relative term. None of these immature saguaros is less than 15 years old. I pause at each hilltop to scan the horizon. Altar Valley spreads south to the Mexican border, more than 60 miles away. To the west I spot a sprinkling of telescopes atop the national observatory on Kitt Peak. On a clear day you can make a game of identifying distant peaks from up here. It takes me an hour to hike to the Juan Santa Cruz picnic ground, where I refill my water bottle before heading back. Shadows lengthen fast this time of the year, and I'm always amazed at what I see in half-light. The saguaro forest with its slanting shadows suddenly appears much thicker, and I think, "What if they had leaves?" The sun flares then drops below the horizon north of Kitt Peak just as I begin to descend toward my waiting car. At a sudden chorus of coyotes, I pause, smiling, to listen. The temperature drops, and I yank my windbreaker from my fanny pack. I quickly move downtrail ahead of the dark.