A Thing of Beauty

"A thing of beauty is a joy forever," so starts John Keats's long poem Endymion. Keats himself was part of that era of appreciating beauty, particularly classical beauty and that found in nature. The pursuit of beauty of the Romantic poets, though not flawless, was at least more pure than that of the aesthetes. I don't think Oscar Wilde appreciated the types of things John Keats appreciated. Keats, at least, could appreciate a good nature walk.

You know, I've wandered through the McDowell Sonoran Preserve plenty of times in my day. But it took many visits before I happened to look to the side at the Gateway Trailhead and see a small stone, like a gravestone, with those very same Keats words carved on it: "A thing of beauty is a joy forever." Fitting words for a nature preserve, a section of land deliberately set aside for the preservation of its beauty. Keats probably never saw a saguaro or a creosote or an ocotillo. So perhaps it's a little random to include a John Keats quote in the Sonoran Desert. But I, for one, do not mind bringing some of the, let's call it, classical perspective into how we approach the desert today. 

Keats wrote his "Ode to a Nightingale" in a completely different natural setting than the one in which I live. Yet I can sit and listen to the mourning doves and watch the quail go by in a similar state--the sort of melancholy ecstasy that he so well describes. I'm an advocate for enjoying whatever it is that you're able to enjoy where you are. Not that I wouldn't enjoy a trip to England. But I don't believe that beauty is so limited that I can only find it in certain places. 

Like that Keats stone at the trailhead. I only had to take a look, to let my eye linger, to not rush by in order to see it. Don't rush by the hidden odes to English poets. Don't rush by the patch of late summer wildflowers. Don't rush by the extended greenery of the landscape after rain. Don't rush by the tortoise walking the edge of the path. Don't rush by the sparkle of starlight. Don't rush by the fingernail of the moon. Don't rush by the perfect shape of each leaf of that cultivated shrub on that cultivated landscape surrounding that city building. 

For, after all, "a thing of beauty is a joy forever." The city building will not last. The cultivated landscape and shrub won't, either. But the shape of that leaf, crafted by the best designer, will not fade. There will be another leaf on another plant somewhere that will be its match, still crafted in such perfection. Even statues and vases that have been beloved for generations, well, sometimes they are destroyed. The memory of their loveliness sometimes does pass away. And so it is that the loveliness that continues to increase, as Keats describes it, I would say is that found in nature. It is nature that we can keep turning to with joy and awe. And its loveliness increases as our appreciation increases. Stay and linger and breathe it in. 

To Reach the Top

In the middle of the McDowell Sonoran Preserve, Tom's Thumb has long caught my interest. Before I even realized it was a place to which one could hike, I would stare at it while passing by on the freeway. The granite boulders, from that distance, make it look like the ruins of an ancient tower--especially given that the rest of the mountain, from that view, has no granite boulders. So those stand out as if they were brought in versus being part of the mountain. 

Hiking still is a newer thing to me. I'm still figuring out what my ability level is--and how that matches up to trail descriptions. Tom's Thumb I thought was out of my range. But not so. There are two ways to get there, the longer way through the Gateway Trailhead and the shorter way through the Tom's Thumb Trailhead. At around four miles, the latter is a similar length to the Gateway Loop, with which I've come to be very familiar. So a couple of weeks ago when the weather was nice and cool, I decided it was time to seize the moment and go.

Terrain-wise, the look is more similar to nearby Pinnacle Peak. The backside of McDowell Sonoran (where the Tom's Thumb Trailhead is) has more of those granite boulders, whereas the Gateway side is more about sharp, dark, volcanic rock. From the parking lot, the Thumb looked so close, like I could reach it in twenty minutes (since this side starts off at a higher elevation). But of course the trail doesn't go straight up and distances look closer than what it takes to travel them by foot, so it took me about an hour and ten minutes to get to the top.

All the little look-points offer great views, though the extra few steps it takes to get to them can be reluctantly traversed when you're on the uphill. The trail was much smoother than the Gateway Loop, which has those aforementioned sharp rocks. But here of course the smooth gravel was also much steeper. Yet there's grace in that: because it's steep you can go as fast or slow as you like. And you know what, even though Pinnacle Peak is a shorter little route, I preferred Tom's Thumb (among other reasons) because it doesn't have steps. We people with shorter legs prefer to take small steps up the steep slopes than to have to be stepping so high onto pre-made steps. 

It was a pleasure to be able to see things I'd seen only in pictures and to get closer and closer to the treasured Thumb. Close to the top, this lion-profile boulder reminded me of the Cave of Wonders in Aladdin. 

There's a certain power in having stared at something for a long time and then finally trying it and realizing it's well within your ability, after all. This was a beautiful hike, and each McDowell Sonoran trailhead has such different terrain and views that it's well worth exploring them all. To step out and see possibility and to step out and have the most pressing thing on your mind be the physical steps that you are taking--that's quite enjoyable and refreshing. 

What Was Before

At the McDowell Sonoran Preserve, the Gateway Loop Trail will take you on a four and a half mile, moderately difficult circle around the nearest peak. The rocks are great; the saguaros are great; the teddy bear chollas are great; the ocotillo are great. And so are the fresh air and exercise. But you know the thing about simple trails? Sometimes they have secrets hidden in plain sight.

You won't find it on the trail maps, but Google Maps shows a little spot marked Old Mission Fort just off of the main trail. If you turned left to get onto the loop trail, then you can turn left at the second to last turnoff--that is, the Crossover Trail. If you turned right, then it'll be a right turn at the second turnoff. Turn the corner from the Crossover Trail and there you will find the light ruins of a near-forgotten building.

Museums take time and money and commitment. And, well, there also has to be the need and want for a particular museum in a particular spot. So sometimes old buildings get museums. Sometimes they just end up as near-forgotten ruins hidden in plain sight (or of course also sometimes hidden deeply). You could take the main loop trail a thousand times and never know this was here. 

It isn't the most terribly exciting to view. Just some blocks marking a basic foundation and size and shape. But it's enough for the imagination and enough for conversation. Who built it and when? How many times did it change ownership? Who lived here last? What did it look like in its prime? How many other buildings were nearby? 

Trying to research the place online doesn't bring up much. As the name suggests, it appears to have at one point been connected to the fort and at one point to have been a mission and also to have been a private residence related to the mine. If anyone knows of any books that reference it, I would certainly be interested. But beyond the specifics of who lived or worked in this building, it's simply nice to have a bit of a reminder of the past. A hundred years or so is such a short time ago, and yet still it sets the mind to thinking.

The paths we walk have been walked before by different feet. Some things were much the same and some things were quite different. It's just something to ponder: my life is just one life in a great big history of lives. 

(And just a reminder, take nothing but pictures and leave nothing but footprints. And stay on the trail. If preservation doesn't matter to you, at least remember that rattlesnakes are not a myth.)

Gila Monster Crossing

As I was meandering along, suddenly I noticed that there was a Gila monster a couple or few feet from me. It cared not for my presence; it was simply walking across the path. So I walked on, on the opposite side of the path from the (adorable) venomous lizard. 

What a delight to see such critters. Lizards are a favorite of mine because of my bearded dragon at home (or perhaps I have a bearded dragon at home because lizards are a favorite of mine). So though a Gila monster is much larger than a bearded dragon, I delighted in the shape of its limbs as it stepped slowly forward. It seemed bigger and chunkier than the ones in captivity that are usually curled up asleep in their enclosures. And that's the gist of it, isn't it?

Have I been the Gila monster curled up in captivity? So now as I am struck by the lizard out in its true home, I think of myself stretching out, reaching out, stepping out. 

The breeze feels nice on a sunny day. Gentle inclines seem to matter little after you've passed the steepest ones. Ocotillo fill up with leaves after rain and lift their limbs up to the sun.

And maybe, just maybe you might catch some early ocotillo blossoms, the bright red tips on the green octopus limbs. So go on, walk across the metaphorical path, just like the Gila monster did. 

Gateway Loop Trail - McDowell Sonoran Preserve.