ISLANDS IN THE SKY

MOUNTAIN TOP

MOUNT GRAHAM AND BABOQUIVARI RISE ABRUPTLY FROM THE DESERT FLOOR

ISLANDS

VARIETY, THE SPICE OF TRAVEL — and reason enough for my quest to define the differences between two sacred peaks. On one hand, you have Mount Graham, a 10,717-foot "sky island" in southeastern Arizona, where the Gan Mountain spirits of the Apaches are said to dwell. On the other, there's Baboquivari, the 7,730-foot mountain in south-central Arizona, where the Tohono O'odham believe the creator, l'itoi, lives. They're each dramatic uplifts of rock that ascend from the desert floor, intriguing human beings and providing sanctuary for plants and animals. The mountains capture clouds, gather rainwater and provide such diverse habitats that they serve as ecological islands in a desert sea. The two peaks also

MOUNTAINTOP ISLANDS

and numerous mammals, such as ringtail cats, mule deer and mountain lions, as well as many types of trees. In fact, the mountain boasts the oldest tree in the state, a Douglas fir that sprouted about 750 years ago.

Mount Graham bristles with history. For at least 12,000 years, indigenous people have taken advantage of the ability to change seasons by moving up and down the peak's flanks. The Apaches arrived shortly before the Spanish in the 1500s and quickly took advantage of the mountain's resources. Apache medicine men still know the secret places to harvest plants needed in their ceremonies and remedies, which is one reason they believe the Gan Mountain Spirits continue to dwell on the peak. In 1859, the U.S. Army built Fort Grant at the foot of the mountain and a hospital in a flower-graced meadow atop it to provide suffering soldiers respite from the desert heat. Near the foot of the mountain, legend has it, Billy the Kid killed his first man, a blacksmith who bullied the slightly built teenager. Legend also holds that Mexican bandits buried on the mountain and never retrieved a huge cache of gold and silver, plundered from travelers, Mexican and American settlers and churches.

The Gan are supernatural spirits connected to the people and spirits who inhabit Apache myths and legends - back in the beginning times when animals and people and entities like the wind and the sun could speak to one another and wield spiritual power. Most of the gods and spirits subspecies, including the furry-eared, pinecone-stashing Mount Graham red squirrel, an ongoing issue between scientists who built a telescope on top of the mountain and environmentalists.

Today Mount Graham, like the other sky islands, towers over the desert like an ecological ark, hosting five different life zones. The mountain shelters a high density of black bears, hundreds of varieties of birds,

MOUNTAINTOP ISLANDS

The Gan Mountain Spirits remained behind, living on the sacred peaks, keeping an eye on their chosen People, and talking in voic-es of thunder. They can still protect and guide the faithful - or make life tough on the irreverent.

Safford provides the most convenient staging ground for an exploration of the mountain, with a variety of hotels, camp-grounds and restaurants at the junction of U.S. routes 70 and 191. Safford also boasts movie theaters, bowling alleys, a commu-nity college and other accoutrements of civilization.

The journey up the mountain on the Swift Trail starts where State Route 366 heads east off U.S. 191 near Roper Lake State Park. Half a mile up the road, the Mt. Graham Market provides the last place to buy gas and supplies before heading up the graded road for which high-clearance vehicles are recommended. The road winds up the mountain as prickly pears yield to ocotillos then to agaves then to oak trees and finally to pines.

The road then meanders 35 miles across the mountaintop past Ladybug Saddle, where in summer the tree trunks sometimes turn orange with a membrane of ladybugs. Also near the top lie many trail-heads, a cluster of summer homes at 7,500 feet, the turnoff to the usually closed peak itself, numerous stunning scenic overlooks and, finally, 11-acre Riggs Lake at 8,600 feet. The trout-stocked lake, open May to mid-November, has 26 campsites, with running water and toilets, as well as a fish-ing pier for handicapped persons and a fish-cleaning station.

The trip on the Swift Trail to Riggs Lake and back covers only about 70 miles, but it takes all day and barely enough time at that. All along the road, I was diverted by brilliant green meadows, fields of flowers, gurgling creeks, quivering aspens, meandering trails, flittering birds and wind-shushed pines. Every viewpoint, trailhead, stream, meadow and glade tempted me out of my car, so it took seven hours to make it to Riggs Lake and back although theguidebook says most people do it in about four. Afternoon billows of monsoon thunderheads built up overhead but never quite delivered on their threat.

I left the mountain reluctantly. Just out-side Safford, I pulled to the side of the road to stare back at the peak. Storm clouds had hurled themselves against the mountain like breakers on a boulder. Great beams of sun poured in through the rents in the clouds, and it seemed I could hear the Gan Mountain Spirits speaking with voices of wind and thunder.

After that, I figured Baboquivari would be a letdown. Shows what I know.

The Baboquivari Mountains run along the eastern edge of the Tohono O'odham Indian Nation, a 2.8-million-acre sprawl of desert along the Arizona-Mexico border that's bigger than the state of Connecticut.

The Tohono O'odham, whose name means "desert people who have emerged from the Earth," have an ancient culture. They're not much interested as a tribe in attracting tourists to their harshly beautiful desert reservation, but as individuals, they are friendly, welcoming and willing to give detailed directions on getting just about anywhere.

The easy way to explore the Baboquivari Mountains is to drive up to Kitt Peak, where in 1958 the University of Arizona built a telescope in the clear air at the 6,900-foot summit. Visitors take a short, self-guided tour or a 90-minute guided tour. Located 50 miles southwest of Tucson off State Route 86, the route up to the telescope continues after the pavement ends as a well-graded road that leads to a picnic area and a mile or so beyond.

But most of the Baboquivari Mountains remain rugged wilderness, with no roads and only a few trails. Several dirt roads climb the lower slopes of the mountain from the eastern, non-reservation side, coming off State Route 286. I decided to try to approach Baboquivari Peak itself from the reservation side. State 86 passes the turnoff to Kitt Peak and heads west to Sells, the administrative center and largest town on the reservation, about 58 miles southwest of Tucson. The springs near Sells have made the area a gathering place for human beings for thousands of years. A few modest restaurants like the Papago Cafe and small stores sell handcrafted Tohono O'odham baskets. The Baboquivari District office in Topawa offers permits for backcountry driving and hiking to the peak, which generally cost $5 for day travel and $10 for overnight camping.

I got into a long conversation with a nice fellow at the gas station who gave me directions to the trailhead below Baboquivari Peak. So I headed south on paved Indian Route 19 to a sign directing me onto un-paved but well-graded Indian Route 10. I ambled down Indian 10 through the sculp-tural landscape bristling with paloverde trees and ocotillo and saguaro cactuses for

MOUNTAINTOP ISLANDS

about 7 miles until the road forked. The left fork jogged north to the village of Pitoikam, while the decidedly more rutted right fork led straight on toward the domineering rock upthrust of Baboquivari Peak. After about 4 more miles of dirt road, I reached a campground and trailhead alongside a small stream.

The campground has tables, toilets, water and a soothing gathering of trees, plus a friendly caretaker. I could see the place where l'itoi lives when he comes to visit. Storytellers relate different versions of the creation myths and the role of the peak itself. One story holds that the peak once formed the umbilical cord connecting heaven to Earth, allowing people and spirits to pass freely back and forth. However, the cord eventually broke, leaving just the stump of its connection in the striking form of Baboquivari Peak. The Tohono O'odham call it Waw Kiwulik, which means "rock drawn in at the middle."

Somewhere on the rugged slopes above the trailhead waits the cave of l'itoi, who the Tohono O'odham believe created humans, deer, fire, bald-headed buzzards and much trouble before retiring into the Earth. Now he grants children good luck, provides medicine men with healing powers and sends dreams. People still make solemn pilgrimages to the cave, bringing small gifts to leave at the entrance to l'itoi's labyrinth. But the location of the cave remains a secret, so I decided to hike to the peak. The trail threads its way up the steep slopes several thousand feet to a long, open ridge, but it ends at the base of the massive cone of granite that constitutes the peak itself, which can be safely climbed only with ropes and technical gear.

Hiking toward the peak seemed like a pilgrimage. In the traditional Tohono O'odham culture, people undertake purifying journeys in hopes they will be rewarded by a dream that imparts a song with spiritual power. The song will then give them something to offer others, perhaps the power to find lost things or heal snakebites or predict events or provide the strength to finish a race without tiring.

WHEN YOU GO

Location: Mount Graham, 185 miles miles southeast of Phoenix; Baboquivari Peak, 160 miles south of Phoenix.

Travel Advisory: Always be respectful of Tohono O'odham Nation members, their land and their privacy. Summer temperatures regularly exceed 110 degrees. Carry a gallon of water per person per day.

Additional Information: Coronado National Forest's Safford Ranger District, (520) 428-4150; Tohono O'odham Nation's Baboquivari district office, (520) 383-2366/3808.

I set off up the mountain on a lightly traveled trail that I sometimes lost amidst the shrubs, catclaw and grass. The trail rose relentlessly, offering progressively more impressive views. On a good day at the top, you can see the Sea of Cortes. I climbed steadily for hours, rapidly depleting my water supply, marveling at the views and noting the steady change in the vegetation as I climbed out of the lower Sonoran Desert into the upper Sonoran, and on into oak scrub. During one break, I used mypocketknife to trim the thorns from around the lush red fruit of a prickly pear and was astonished at the sweet taste. Low on water, daylight and climbing gear, I came finally to the massive granite base of the crowning monolith. I stood at the top of the world as l'itoi must still do now and then, admiring his handiwork. Overhead, a pair pair of huge, graceful, vulturelike caracas circled, strange creations of l'itoi no doubt marking my position in case I didn't make it down.

Then I turned and descended Babo-quivari, just as reluctant as I had been to leave Mount Graham and equally ready to believe that I had spent the day on sacred, albeit very different, ground.

Peter Aleshire also wrote the following story on the Heart of Rocks. George Stocking of Phoenix enjoyed his first visit to the Pinalenos. In the Baboquivari range, however, he made an unfortunate decision to bushwhack through a mesquite thicket to avoid a 20-minute descent and suffered multiple lacerations and a shredded T-shirt.