Daytrip into Sonora

More pics here:

http://good-times.webshots.com/album/569107046joZoBM

It was a fun day in northern Sonora exploring the headwaters of the San Pedro River and its three tributaries near the Arizona border. We didn't get to all five lakes, though, as we ran out of daylight. We will be back!

I wasn't nervous at all about entering Mexico this time.

We met once again at the Bisbee Burger King, appointed the drivers and followed Mike back into Naco.

Mexican soldiers picked my vehicle for a quick search of the back area.

The first excitement was getting on Highway 2 south of Naco, a narrow, two-laned shoulderless road with no room for error. Skyislands abounded in all directions. The grasses were especially dry around here.

We weren''t on the road for long. We followed Mike into a private ranch that was also home to an abandoned tequila distillery. The village of Ejido Cuauhtemoc was to the west. Here we chatted with the landowners to gather permission to enter, paid our $4 per car entrance and explored the first damned-up lake off the San Pedro river, Lago el Cuauhtemoc.

This lake wasn't much. It looked more like a large stockpond. Cows stood off the side of the road staring at us. Everywhere were cow patties of gargantuan proportions. Mike climbed up a small hill, Kevin walked around the hill, and Tone and I hiked up a nearby hill to get a panoramic view of the area.

We stayed no more than 40 minutes at this site.

We continued our drive west, near the international border, skirting San Jose Peak from the south. Plastic litter was visible in all directions here.

"When families have a choice between paying money to get rid of the trash or to put food on their table, they will chose the food" explained Dutch, my co-pilot on this trip. That made perfect sense to me.

The San Pedro River came back into view. Here we stopped for a quick lunch. The cottonwoods looked yellower here than in Hereford, a mere ten miles to the north in Arizona. A harrier flew low over the grass in search of a meal.

"The last time we were here we saw three taxis drop off eight people from each car at the border" said Betsy.

The half moon was now rising from the east.

We drove through the small village of San Pedro on our way to the second site. Here we stopped at the cemetery, walked along the San Pedro river, and resumed our trip.

We had plenty of opportunities to photograph sleeping dogs (Sonoran or snoring dogs?) and free-pecking chickens in the streets. Houses had Christmas displays in their yards. Bud Lite (yuck!) cans littered some of the yards.

The mystery of Mike's sandals was finally explained here: before we forded the river, he waded in the water with his sandals to determine where we could best ford the river. Having sandals on is more practical than wearing heavy boots with socks. He wore his sandals all day.

The most unusual cottonwood grew here off the riverbank. It looked like a tree with two legs to better hold it up.

The Huachuca Mountains and San Jose Peak were never far from our view. Several trees west of the river were crowded with what Dutch quickly identified as yellow-headed blackbirds as he studied the flock through binoculars. (I could not tell with my own eyes what species of bird was in the tree) Dutch moved from Connecticut to Arizona ten years ago. He and his wife have been avid birders for over 30 years.

We continued west across grasslands. The next village we drove through, Jose Maria Morelos, had a white-stucco chapel in the middle of town. Here we stopped to go inside. Horses walked freely along the road. Children played basketball and old men wandered the streets. Several full-sized pick-ups drove north. Trash littered the dirt roads in all directions. Living ocotillo fences were the primary means of boundary marking here.

The second lake, La Nutrias, was more scenic than the first, with more giant cottonwoods along the riverbanks. More cows lingered here, some refusing to clear the way for us. We were never far from the careful views of cows in all directions. They reluctantly made way for us but never lost sight of us, either.

We crossed a spillway and followed the dam across to the southern shore of the reservoir. Plastic bottles and water-logged snags littered the shore.

Frontal storm clouds floated in from the southwest, greying the sky and cooling off the temperatures. This must be the storm that is forecasted to hit Tucson Sunday evening with rain.

"I don't think we have time to explore the next stop" said Mike, but shortly after that he saw two ranchers approach us, who later showed him the best way to drive to San Rafael reservoir, where a damn and more trees lay. I am glad we got to this site, as the sun was starting to set and the colors became dramatic.

Birds were now coming out. Blue herons flew close over the lake. Long-billed dowitchers pecked in the water. And in the distance to our south we could hear cows screaming.

"Sounds like they are getting butchered" said Kevin.

"The cows sound like they are being separated from their calves and are crying for them" said Dutch.

"Smells like hair is buring" said Mike later. "They are probably getting branded!" The cows never stopped screaming during the sunset, adding a bit of discomfort to an otherwise gorgeous view of the southern mountains.

Tone, Dutch, Mike and I wandered off to the half of the lake to take photos while Betsy and Kevin stayed behind to watch the sunset. I didn't have much sunlight left for good photographs. The Huachucas were now turning a dark red.

"I could come back here and camp!" said Tone. It was indeed peaceful here. Even the water was calm.

From here we lost daylight, but managed to drive further in a southeasterly direction on a very bumpy dirt road into Cananea. Going south to this town was faster in the dark, rather than retreating the way we came. I could see lighted hillside homes and silhouettes of nearby mountains. Cananea looked like a town worth exploring again, in the daytime.

From Cananea we got on Highway 2 and drove north back to Naco. This highway was the worst experience of the day. It was curvy, hilly and packed with southbound truck traffic. Some of the cars were driving partially on our side of the lane, giving us very little room to get out of the way. Anyone of us could have ended down a grassy ditch with no quick way out. Some of the impatient drivers passed us within inches of our rear bumpers. Some of the headlights were blinding.

I was relieved to get on the access road towar Naco, but now I was hearing a plastic sound dragging against my left front tire. What was that sound? I didn't hit anything in a pothole, did I?

The seafood restaurant from last month was closed. "I know another place we can try" said Mike.

"Let's do it!" I responded.

We stopped at the first open restaurant, Asadero Arturo's on Main Street. There were no menus, just signs on the wall describing the various grill dishes. I thought I ordered Alhambre asada and ended up with a hot plate of marinaded steak fillets. The meat was good but that's all that was on the plate. I don't even remember the last time I ate that much meat in one sitting.

The dish even came with what the guys described as "weenies:" grilled sausage strips. The server forgot to get my frijoles chisos until Mike reminded him. Even those frijoles were just OK.

It was here over dinner where both Mike and Dutch confessed to some uncomfortable moments in Mexico.

"I was robbed at knife point by a policeman in Sinaloa. He demanded $100 from us. I do not like Sinaloa."

"We had a couple held up at gun point while birding in Mexico" added Dutch.

Our last mission was a stop at the El Indio shop for cigarettes and tequila. I picked up another carton of Malboro Lights for Kevin. I learned the three types of tequila: blanco (fair), reposado (="aged" and good) and anejo (excellent, meaning aged over a year). I had been buying Cuervo, which is rated as merely good.

Entering back into Arizona was easy. The agent even accepted my expired passport as identification with my driver's license and other photo ID. Dutch only had a driver's license, which slowed us down a bit.

Mike behind me had his car searched.

We finally made it to Bisbee after 9pm. I made it home 30 minutes later to three very excited dogs. Sammy, as usual, sniffed my crotch to make sure it was me.