Picacho Peak, Sunday 12 March
It was a medium-length drive, pretty uneventful. We did as other campers have recommended and filled up our water tank at the Flying J Truck Stop on I-10. It was about 10 minutes past the park, but not a problem.
They had a water fill station easily accessed with gas pumps within reach, so while the tank was filling, Ed was able to use his RV fuel card and fill up with gas. I noticed they had a dump station there, too. Very nice!
Then we went back to the park. Since our check-in time was fairly late, 3 or 4 pm, we were somewhat worried we'd get there and have to wait. And we did--but not for the reason you'd expect. It was "Wildflower Season" at Picacho Peak, and the line of cars waiting to get in was unbelievable. A sign at the turnoff said to expect a 1-1/2 hour wait, and they weren't kidding.
It might have only been an hour. When we finally got within a few places of the entrance, a nice ranger ran up to get our info and then ran back to print our stickers. All of the cars in front of us were day use people, flower peepers. So it was a shame we had to wait at all, but the ranger explained this only happened a few days a year. It was Sunday afternoon, too, so the crowd was unusually large.
And the wildflowers were awesome! It was like a huge, overflowing garden in the desert. Flowers of many colors--orange and yellow poppy-like things, bluebonnets, purple plumes--tons of them. Everything was blooming except the cactus, which typically bloom later in the summer. Not that mattered--I never expected to see so many saguaro with their feet anchored in gorgeous colors.
Our campsite was almost as lovely as the drive up the hill. It was full of flowers there too, but not as big and showy ones. Even without water hookups, it's a great, great campground!
Our site was about halfway up the slope to Picacho Peak, with a big chunk of dark hill in front of us and a long, sloping valley down all the way to Interstate 10. After dinner we sat out on the picnic table and looked out across the valley, amazed at the constant stream of traffic on interstate going into Tucson. Plus the long long trains--two sets of tracks taking trains both east and west--cool to watch from a great distance. Endlessly fascinating.
Watching people going made me want to go on and on, to the ends of the earth. Mind you, I loved being where I was and wanted to stay a long, long time, but I wanted to be going on, too. How is that possible? Why is that possible? What is the meaning of this need to get up and move and see all the things in the world? (Not to mention feel them, hear them, touch them, smell them) Why?
Back to here and now. In those few short hours, I saw a few birds: Gila Woodpeckers, Cactus Wren, Black-Throated Sparrow, doves of some sort which I haven't taken the time to ID, and House Finch. And Ravens, of course. Love 'em. But are they Chihuahuan Raven or Common Raven? Dunno, but I'm thinking Common Raven.
Pyrhuloxia (at Rusty's)
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