Camping with Cacti by the Light of the Full Moon – A Challenge in the Desert

Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument © 2013 Bo Mackison

“Every challenge you encounter in life is a fork in the road. You have the choice to choose which way to go – backward, forward, breakdown or breakthrough.”  ~ Ifeanyi Enoch Onuoha

I love the desert.

This was a surprise to me when I first visited the Southwest.

I had driven through a part of the Mojave Desert on a family vacation many years ago, and I do not remember my reaction, negative or positive. So it came as a surprise to me when I visited Arizona and the Sonoran Desert in 2008 and had an immediate, visceral connection with this arid landscape.

I felt as if I had finally found my home.

The first time I lived in the desert for any length of time, it was a challenge on all counts. It was the first time I lived away from my husband and family for an extended time. I had lived a protected life for many years, and challenging myself to come to Arizona, alone, was a big deal. I was responsible for taking care of everything.

I succeeded, but it was difficult. There were times I found myself crying in frustration, angry that doing the grocery shopping or filling the car with gas were such obstacles. I was anxious when I had to drive after dark or when I got lost in a strange part of the city. I struggled to accomplish the daily routines I believed everyone else did with ease.

My second winter in Arizona, I learned to not only live by myself, but thrive while doing so. I explored southern Arizona, traveling the back roads and byways. I found my footing.

The third year was more difficult. I stayed longer and I had fewer visits from family and friends. But again I did quite well, and when it was time to return to the Midwest, I drove cross-country, solo. Another milestone, hard-earned, but I was proud that I was gradually accomplishing more and more.

This year, my fourth year, I was pleased that I was once again thriving in Arizona.  (I had the added advantage of extended visits from Sherpa every month, which was a great bonus.)

And then . . . I decided to go primitive camping in Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument, a three-hour drive from my Arizona home.

Camping with Cacti

Camping with Cacti © 2014 Bo Mackison

“Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing.”
~ Helen Keller

The day I drove to Organ Pipe was a perfect desert day – moderate temperatures, deep blue skies, calm weather.

I dictated brief scraps of travel tidbits into my phone recorder as I drove, and then stopped at a roadside cafe for lunch before entering the park. I was in no hurry – I had the whole afternoon and evening for setting up camp and exploring, and tomorrow too.

I spent an hour enjoying a home cooked meal and writing in my journal.

By the time I left, the temperature had soared into the 90s and the wind had picked up. Neither heat nor high winds had been forecast, so this was unexpected, but not particularly unusual. I signed in at the campground, found an isolated site, and pitched my tent amidst saguaro and organ pipe cacti.

The winds made setting up the tent a challenge, and it didn’t help that I had forgotten my mallet back in Tucson. I still set up the tent, using a rock to pound in the stakes, but I ended up with cut hands from the sharp edges of the rock.

I did remember the first aid kit, and bandages, and that was a good thing.

Then off I went to explore with camera in hand. By the time I returned to camp to prepare my dinner, the winds had quieted, and the evening was immeasurably pleasant.

After the sun set, the skies were dark and it was a treat to take in the night skies.

Every star shimmered and danced in its glory. And then the moon rose – a full moon. Large as a saucer, brilliant with a few wispy clouds drifting across her face. The desert was awash with moonlight, nearly as light as on a stormy day. It was a moment to treasure.

But then, as if an early morning alarm clock had shrieked and blinked wildly, the desert awoke. The desert life joined in the noise making. Coyotes howled, birds squawked, dark furry things ambled along the dirt road, slithery sounds emerged from the tall grasses.

None of these sounds are new to me. I walk the desert several times a week. But it seemed totally different in the eerily moonlit desert. It wasn’t quite light enough to see well, but my hearing took on a well-tuned acuity. Suddenly I heard anything, and everything.

There was only one reasonable alternative I could think of  — zip myself into my tent and call it a night. I briefly considered pulling up camp and driving home. Too far. I also considered screaming that the desert was coming to life and I was afraid, but that seemed quite unreasonable. Plus I figured it would attract the wrong kind of attention. Nor did I want to succumb to a panic attack in the light of the silvery moon? No way.

So I zipped myself into my tiny tent and willed myself to get drowsy and fall into a blissful sleep.

That did not happen. I did not fall asleep until it was nearly time to get up. That is the unfortunate news.

But there were a lot of positives, too. I stayed (mostly) calm throughout the long night, drowsing a bit, then waking up to the moonlit desert and momentarily thinking the sun was rising. Disappointed? Yes. But still calm and in control.

I now have first hand proof that meditation and deep breathing are indeed helpful, even when a desert creature is rubbing against the ropes that stake the tent into the earth. Even when the tent is wobbling a bit.  And I can also practice meditation and calming while armed with a hiking stick – just in case the tent wobbling gets out of control.

Early Morning Coffee in the Desert

Early Morning Coffee in the Desert © 2013 Bo Mackison

There’s always a story. It’s all stories, really.
The sun coming up every day is a story. Everything’s got a story in it.
Change the story, change the world. ~ Terry Pratchett

Did I mention that the sun did rise through a haze of low clouds, and burst onto the desert scene, a white blaze?

Or that I crawled out of the tent, all in one piece, and immediately set up my backpacker stove to heat water for coffee?

Or that a cup of French press coffee after a long, wakeful night is one of the best morning gifts I can imagine?

Or that I was pretty darned pleased with myself for surviving an uneventful night in the desert, even if I did let myself get freaked out by the full-moon-night-concert-in-the-desert?

Or that I still love the desert?

Yes, indeed!

Towards Nonexistence

Organ Pipe Cactus

A Tumble of Cactus © 2013 Bo Mackison

”Like homeopathic medicine, the essence of wabi-sabi is apportioned in small doses. As the dose decreases, the effect becomes more potent, more profound. The closer things get to nonexistence, the more exquisite and evocative they become. Consequently to experience wabi-sabi means you have to slow way down, be patient, and look very closely.”
~ Leonard Koren in Wabi-Sabi for Artists, Designers, Poets & Philosophers

I took dozens of photographs of organ pipe cacti last week. It was a major preoccupation while I was camping at Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument. I found a few specimens that were perfect to the discerning eye – not an easy feat when a cactus typically stands  8 to 10 feet high, the older ones reach heights twice that size. Each has eight to fifteen stems, though some of the ancient giants have twenty or more.

It was not the symmetrically formed, unscathed cacti that captured most of my attention. I loved the cacti that had character, the ones marked with scars and age . . . and great beauty. Desiccated arms tangled with vibrant greens and golden greens. New buds of growth twisted around aged skeletons.

Two Stems - Organ Pipe Cactus

Two Stems  ©2013 Bo Mackison

I loved the cactus that carried marks of its challenges with below freezing temperatures or prolonged cold spells. Indentations on the stems are the result of the freezing and death of vulnerable tissue on the stem ends.

When new growth appears, the plant is marked by circular strictures on the pipes. These cactus have gone through hardships, and survived, marked by the challenges of life in a harsh environment. The bumpier an organ pipe cactus, the more battles it has met with climate at the northern reaches of its habitat.

Stages of Life, Organ Pipe Cactus

Stages of Life © 2013 Bo Mackison

This photograph is a Southwest version of photo I took in Wisconsin exploring the same concept – the presence of both life and death in a plant.

A walk through this small part of the Sonoran Desert – mostly in Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument and its adjacent areas in south-central Arizona – offers the only opportunity to see these unique cactus giants in the United States. This small micro-habitat offers the only chance for survival of these warmth-loving plants. Many more grow in the warmer climes of Sonora Mexico.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. I continue my exploration of whole and fragments, of extra-ordinary and ordinary.

Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument

Organ Pipe Cactus

Organ Pipe Cactus ©2013 Bo Mackison

“We need the tonic of wildness…At the same time that we are earnest to explore and learn all things, we require that all things be mysterious and unexplorable, that land and sea be indefinitely wild, unsurveyed and unfathomed by us because unfathomable. We can never have enough of nature.” ~ Henry David Thoreau from Walden

We traveled west. Warnings of high winds — 40 to 50 mph — and dust storms, downed electrical lines and zero visibility were more than enough reasons for us to curtail our planned expedition to California’s Joshua Tree National Park, and stop only three hours west of the Tucson area.

I’ve been to Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument several times over the last few years, but Sherpa had never visited this park, so it seemed like a wise alternative. Sunny, a bit of a cooling breeze and temperatures in the mid 70s to mid 80s, fit the description of a suitable camping destination.

I am the tent camper; Sherpa is the reluctant camper in any type of camping set-up. He considers a tent a fine place to store the camping equipment while he checks out the nearest motel. But he was a super trooper these past few days, and we spent an uneventful two nights protected by a tent while we slept.

(Sherpa has every right to have hesitations about tent camping — he has camped through torrential downpours, collapsed tents, wildly spirited neighbors with loud music, ambitious families with terrified toddlers, and even a near miss by a tornado.)

Organ Pipe’s campground played the perfect host. We had a tent site at the edge of the Sonoran Desert and set up so we could watch the sun rise over the saguaros and organ pipe cacti. The stars filled the sky and we had a clear view since the moon delayed its rising until way after midnight. A cloudless, moonless night of star watching in a dark desert wilderness surely is a life changing experience. We spread a sleeping bag on the picnic table and couldn’t stop staring. There were so many stars, and such a wide swath of the Milky Way, we swore we could hardly find a black bit in the sky. The sky is ALL stars!

We hiked during the day – including one 3 mile hike that I misread as “easy and meandering.” Sherpa read the same sign which correctly described the hike as strenuous and difficult, but he didn’t say a word when I suggested we hike to Bull Pasture. Well — it was one of the more magnificent trails I’ve hikes since we tackled several out-of-the-way hikes in the Great Smoky Mountains when we were in our twenties.

Suffice to say that I was gratified to see that my new self-care program of healthy eating and exercise paid off.

As for the Organ Pipe Cactus, what a spectacular plant! I promise many more photos from our travels, including entire mountain sides of Organ Pipes mixed with Saguaros.

Tomorrow!

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. Nothing makes her happier than trips to explore the many protected wildernesses across America – the National Parks and Monuments.

Four Views of the Desert Brittlebush

Desert Marigold, OrganPipe NM

Desert Brittlebush © 2012 Bo Mackison

I walked in the desert often these last days, preferably alone, and looked lovingly at my brittle-bush, my fine beds of desert holly, my border of paper daisies and desert marigolds. Here, tended by unseen hands, are plants equal to any in a botanical garden. They seemed to flourish for me alone, just as the birds seemed to sing for me alone. There was no one else to see them, just as there was no one else to hear the birds sing. 

~ Olga Wright Smith in Gold on the Desert

Desert Marigold II

Leaning towards the Sun © 2012 Bo Mackison

Brittlebush is one of the old standbys in the Sonoran Desert. It is drought resistant and blooms when there has been little rainy weather. But it is even more spectacular when Mother Nature sends rain. Brittlebush is common and easy to find wherever one looks in the Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument. At the foot of an organ pipe or saguaro cactus, spreading upwards to add mounds of yellow color on mountain sides road sides and along the dry arroyas.

Ajo Mountain in Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument

Ajo Mountain, Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument © 2012 Bo Mackison

The brittlebush is now a popular plant even in the city, as its characteristics lend themselves well to the xeriscaped (natural) landscapes in the arid Southwest. But it looks might fine to me, adding splashes of yellow to the green desert.

It is used in rites and rituals throughout the region and was once was burned as incense in many churches across the border in Mexico. The substance exuded from the stems were used as a chewing gum, and at one time it was even exported to Europe, sent by the Spanish mission priests. The Tohono O’odham continue to use the brittlebush as a source of gum.

Saguaro and Organ Pipes

Saguaro and Organ Pipes Cacti © 2012 Bo Mackison

The brittlebush has an interesting defense system. It exudes a compound from its leaves and when these chemicals are washed onto the surrounding gravelly soil, it lessens other plants’ abilities to germinate. This gives the brittlebush less competition and more resources for survival.

Brittlebush has a long history of names since it was a common plant used by the Tohono O’odham, the Spanish priests, and the (mostly English) pioneers. Besides the common name of Brittlebush, it has been called Golden Hills, rama blanca (white branch), incienso (incense), hierba de las animas (herb of the souls), hierba del bazo (spleen-herb), and hierba ceniza (gray herb).

I rather like the name hierba de las animas. Has a mystical sound to it — these yellow flowers charged with the care of souls.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. She photographed these flowers at Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument, and there are still many more photographs of other desert flowers to share.

 

 

Organ Pipe Cactus — Another Visit

IMG_1781

Organ Pipe and the Whirling Cloud

I’m feeling quite a lot like this organ pipe cactus–all askew on my base of support, a bit in disarray, not knowing which direction I should be heading next. And in my tangled chaos, I need to pull out some organization and steady work habits.

The Tempe Art Festival begins this Friday, March 25 and goes through Sunday, March 27. I was notified of a recent booth change for Seeded Earth Studio which appears to be to my benefit. I am now located on Mill Street between University and Seventh and I have a corner booth. Now I am imagining a number of corner booth set-ups, both in my head and on paper. Of course, I never really make the final set-up decision until I am there, rearranging the panels like it’s a giant toy puzzle.

I’ll be pre-occupied for the next few days–putting the finishing touches on my hand crafted cards, assembling the sets, and making a card insert for each set. There are five new sets, all with an Arizona theme — desert botanical, desert landscape, Arizona National Parks, Mission at San Xavier del Bac, and Tumacacori Mission.

I also need to check each of my new prints and photo canvases–part of my quality control. There will be  first-time-exhibited photographs of Arizona at the Tempe show. I will probably keep checking them–a bit compulsively–until they are safely hung on the booth’s walls or placed in a print bin. But I want my booth to be perfect when the clock strikes 10:00 a.m. on this Friday and the first visitors come into the Seeded Earth Studio booth. I’m quite excited!

Now…back to work!

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. She is living in Tucson through the first week in April, exhibiting her photography in art fairs, taking photographs in deserts,  and blogging about “Bo goes solo”. She is also scrambling to get everything in top-notch order for her upcoming show.