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Saddle up in the Southwest (Tucson, Arizona) Author: Linda Ballou Date: 2008-11-06
Rating: Votes: 7
I must the be the luckiest cowgirl beneath a bronco
moon to spend part of my February at both the
Elkhorn Ranch southwest of Tucson, and the Flying
E Ranch northwest of Phoenix. Each winter a colorful
denizen of twittering snowbirds from around the
globe flock to Arizona's guest ranches. Many of
these migrants return to the same ranch year after
year to renew their claim on a corner of the
American West. I rode with them through haunting
desert landscapes; got my fill of home cookin';
spent an evening listening to cowboy tunes; had a
ringside seat for the Gold Rush Days parade, and
checked out the best little art museum in the
Southwest. Whether you are looking for a ranch with
more comforts than home or a retreat from
civilization, there's a guest ranch in Arizona just for
you.
“It don't get any better than this,” Chris, my wrangler
guide said as we surveyed the Altar Valley spread
out before us like an unfurled quilt framed in the
purple ridges of the Sierrita Mountains. In the
distance, Mt. Lemon stood cloaked in a frosty white
cape towering over Tucson. Behind us, crags of the
Baboquivari Range jutted into cobalt skies.
Snuggled into secluded Sabino Canyon just spitting
distance from the Mexican border, the Elkhorn
Ranch, owned and operated by the Miller family
since 1945, remains a hacienda hidden from time.
“It's like mountaineering on horseback,” exclaimed
Max, my companion for the day ride across the
chaparral, though a mesquite tunnel, up a tricky
climb on a less-trod trail to this 360-degree view.
Max, a businessman from Switzerland, was visiting
the Elkhorn with his partner Alison, an artist who
spent the day sketching the weathered windmill
behind the barn. The Elkhorn's isolation and the
guests' mutual respect for solitude makes it a
perfect place to get in touch with your creative side.
The Miller's think so, too. In January, they host a
painting seminar, and in April, a digital photo
workshop.
Temperatures this time of year hover around 65-70
degrees, but the ranch sits at 3,700 feet and the
weather can be moody. Wear layers and pack a pair
of long-johns and weatherproof gloves. On my first
morning, I woke to a patter of rain on my window that
turned to hail, then snow. Nestled like one of the
burrowing animals that live in the desert to protect
themselves from the 118-degree summers and the
sometime-freezing winters, I waited for the storm to
pass. That afternoon, I took a walk up a canyon
beside a chatty creek full of itself from the morning
rain. Glistening spikes of ocotillo stood in stark relief
against a brilliant blue sky and snow clustered at the
base of the yucca. Mourning doves lifted at my
footfall. I breathed deeply the scintillating air, as the
sun burst through slate-gray clouds creating a silver
lining on the day.
Guests congregate for meals in the Long House with
its commanding view of Altar Valley and the big
sky that flushes crimson at dawn and dusk. Grandma
has some real competition in the kitchen at the
Elkhorn. Ham with scalloped potatoes served with
crisp greens and apple-pecan pie for dessert was
my favorite meal. Breakfast is a choice of every
country combo imaginable, including buttermilk
biscuits.
Killer cookies get tucked into your lunchbox if you
want to venture out to explore nearby sites. The
Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum about an hour away
is part zoo, part botanical garden, and part museum.
It's a favored attraction, along with a drive through
the Saguaro National Forest. Nearby Kitt
Observatory offers tours for serious stargazers. A
few guests linked up for a drive into Tucson to play
golf, others ventured to Tubac, a small town with a
Spanish flavor, for an art show. But, most guests
come to ride the endless miles of trails to stunning
vistas.
I enjoyed curling up in my casita with a good book.
There are no phones or televisions in the pueblos
to distract from the desert serenade. Feeders in
your own mini-Sonoran Desert garden draw flashy
red cardinals, cocky Gambel's quail, and chirpy
black-headed sparrows. When the sun goes down,
only yipping coyotes and hooting owls are heard,
and the velvet heavens become backdrop for a
billion brilliant stars.
Wrangler Jake took Max and me for a ride on sandy
footing across the desert floor. All I had to do was
sit back and rock along in an easy lope on my
steady steed,Juarez. Jake let us do a little
trail-blazing through shimmering Teddy Bear Cholla.
It looks cuddly but, like most desert plants, has
sharp needles for defense. The Jumping Cholla
attaches to anything that comes near...its clinging
clumps sticking and spreading if threatened to be
pulled apart. The ubiquitous, hardy Prickly Pear
grows in mounds that can turn a great day into a bad
one in a hurry if you land in one. We maneuvered
our horses through the cacti, chasing jacks that
sprang in foot-high leaps ahead of us on our path.
Other local wildlife includes the mountain lion, mule
deer, wild pigs, a seldom-seen gray fox, and an
array of colorful birds.
A woman who owns a cattle ranch nearby told me, “I
have visited every guest ranch around Tucson. I
come here every winter to see old friends and ride
the most varied and beautiful trails on the best
horses around.”
Even though rides in the enchanting country at the
Elkhorn filled my adventure bill, I did hear from
some muscles that I haven't talked to in a long time.
When I pulled into the Flying E Ranch (a four-hour
drive later) and spied the inviting pool and spa
overlooking thousands of acres of rolling desert, an
audible sigh slipped frommy lips.
After checking into my comfy cabin, I rushed to the
hot, bubbling waters beneath cloudless blue skies.
Lulled by the melody of the cactus wren while weary
muscles melted away, my thoughts drifted to the
pioneers who first settled here in what can be a
hostile land.
A black volcanic saddle called Vulture Peak
dominates the landscape. Henry Wickenburg gave
it this name because when he discovered a
fifteen-foot vein of gold about twelve miles south of
the Flying E it was one of the scrappy scavengers
that led him to the site. Vulture Mine turned out to be
one of the richest deposits in Arizona...over a billion
modern-day dollars came out of the mine from
1866-1872. Where there is gold, there are folks who
want to get at it without doing the work. The old
stagecoach road for gold deliveries to Phoenix
cuts across the ranch land. A monument at the gate
of the Flying E marks the spot of an unsolved gold
heist. Legend has it that Apaches killed the outlaws
that robbed the stage and all those aboard the stage
save two. Supposedly, they then left behind the ore
they had no use for. The search for the missing
treasure goes on.
The riches here for me are rides on well-groomed
trails through cowboy country, the chance to spot a
little wildlife and to make new friends along the way.
Days at the ranch end with happy hour in the saloon
that adjourns to the rustic main lodge for a
full-service, sit-down dinner with all the trimmings.
The relaxed, convivial environment of the ranch is
great for a solo traveler or extended families. A
three-day minimum stay means lots of comings and
goings during a typical week-long stay. I chatted
with a frisky 88-year-old who had just arrived with her
daughter and granddaughter from the Northwest. The
equestrienne sitting next to me had just flown in from
across the pond to revisit the West's wide-open
spaces. A strolling cowboy serenaded us while we
enjoyed a succulent prime rib dinner topped off with
peach cobbler. Ray Caldwell is a living library of
western songs dating back to the early 1800s. His
rendition of “Wildfire” left me misty; and his “Cattle
Call” is enough to calm any herd.
The stately Saguaro cactus standing guard at the
entrance of the Flying E was here when Vi and her
husband George Wellik circled overhead looking
for a place to land their plane. Vi wanted to create a
ranch with resort-like amenities that would be a
comfortable place for weekend wranglers to put their
boots up. They chose this spot in 1949, and Vi
remained gracious hostess of the Flying E until
2004. Today the elder Saguaro is a high-rise for
chirping birds that greet guests to the 20,000-acre
dude ranch with pool, spa, sauna, and workout
room. The barn, lodge, cabins, and manicured
grounds are all lovingly maintained by Andrea and
Steve Taylor ...just the way Vi wanted them to be.
I awoke to the clamor of hooves as the wranglers
brought the horses in for the day's rides. Morning
and afternoon two-hour rides range from an
easy-going-walk-trot-scenic to hold-onto-your-hat
lopes. Undulating trails through rock formations
tinctured with lichen stir the imagination. Many of the
same cacti I saw south of Tucson are here, and in
addition are the Palos Verdes trees, and an
abundance of Creosote bush. One afternoon each
week is dedicated to team penning, and on Sunday
mornings the chuck wagon is rolled out for an
authentic cookout on the breakfast ride.
Pleasures to be had in nearby Wickenburg include
the Desert Cabballeros Western Museum,
housing western art and a neat mineral collection. A
birding hotspot, the Hassayampa River Preserve, is
laced with trails though a riparian ecology unique to
the region. Hikes up Vulture Peak and into Box
Canyon where the Hassayampa flows year round,
are worth the effort.
The day I arrived in Wickenburg, the 60th annual
Gold Rush Days celebration was in full swing. That
calls for a rodeo, a dance in the community center,
and the descent of thousands of equine visitors
upon the town. Guests of the Flying E have front-row
seats for the procession of cowboys, Indians,
mountain men, the sheriff's posse, and dance hall
girls. One young man wearing a jaunty, red kerchief
jumped off of his pony, ran over, and got down on
one knee before his sweetheart who was standing
next to me. He looked up at her with all the hope
and innocence of youth, popped open a box
bearing a bright shiny ring, and asked her to marry
him. She responded with a shudder of disbelief then
jumped into his waiting arms. The romance of the
West is alive and well out Wickenburg way.
I hope to come back to Arizona in the spring when
the cottonwoods, willows, and sycamores that line
the creeks are leafed out, and the desert is bursting
with blooms. Until then I have the Flying E brand on
my boot to remind me what a lucky cowgirl I am.
