Not many people prefer the desert, but I find something alluring about these dusty trails. Maybe it’s the sun-kissed rocks, or the resilient plants, or the quirky hardy wildlife so foreign to me, that captures my imagination.

November 24–25, 2019

Apart from my work in the national parks, I am also a high school cross country coach and our team’s success this year brings us to Nike’s Regional Championship in Tempe, Arizona. Only two hours north of Tucson, this opportunity clearly calls for a swing down to Saguaro National Park. So after all the parents and athletes fly back home, I grab a rental car and drive southeast on Interstate 10 to the home of the tallest cacti on the planet.

I am only planning to spend a single night and must fly out late tomorrow, so after a brief stop at the Red Hills Visitor Center in the western Tucson Mountain District, I don’t waste any time in cruising over to Sendero Esperanza Trail. Born and raised in Colorado, I’m immediately drawn to any park’s highest point. In the west district that is Wasson Peak. The November weather is warm but not scorching this afternoon so I feel confident my one water bottle will be enough for this 8-mile hike.

Sendero Esperanza Trail winds up the foothills through forests of saguaro and beavertail cacti as thrashers and finches flit about from branch to branch. After two miles, I reach a ridgeback and link up with Hugh Norris Trail to take me the rest of the way up to Wasson Peak. The views are expansive in every direction. Across the city of Tuscon below I can make out the Rincon Mountains of the eastern district in the distance. I will explore those trails tomorrow.

The afternoon sun is warm and balmy as I enjoy my solitude on the peak. With a quick bite and gulp of water, I’m back on the trail to reach the trailhead by sunset. Not many people prefer the desert, but I find something alluring about these dusty trails. Maybe it’s the sun-kissed rocks, or the resilient plants, or the quirky hardy wildlife so foreign to me, that captures my imagination.

Back at the car, sunset closes in. I’m not entirely sure the best place to view golden hour, so I try my luck at Desert Discovery Nature Trail near the visitor center. I walk around the half-mile loop, feeling uneasy about the sunset views so I climb back in my car and scoot up the road to Signal Hill. It’s a small parking lot built around some neat petroglyphs, but with a rise in the land it also overlooks a valley of saguaros—much better for sunset. I wait as the sun dips lower and lower toward the western horizon.

Moments before the sun crashes to earth, every saguaro in sight catches the golden light, each illuminating a glorious halo of needles against their sturdy silhouettes. Alpenglow sweeps the mountains in robes of scarlet and purple. These moments never last long enough. I’m literally watching cactus by cactus fall into shadow as the sun drops. Soon, I’m left in a land of blues and purples as the sky lingers in pale sunlight.

I drive down to Tucson and check into my hotel, still in awe of the desert beauty. I need sleep, but I don’t want to leave. Settling in for the night, I make plans to wake early and catch some astrophotography before sunrise and explore the eastern district before my flight home.

The alarm comes early and I’m ready for adventure. Jumping in the car, I drive down to Sweetwater Trail, still in the western district for a spectacular sunrise over the Rincon Mountains. Everything is quiet and no one is about. I try my hand at early morning star photography to no avail. Blurry photos reveal I still need some practice. But the experience is awe-inspiring nonetheless.

Hiking up Sweetwater, I watch a layer of cloud above Tucson flame bright pink and orange in the coming light. It’s actually one of the more gorgeous scenes I’ve encountered in Arizona. The soft blue hour colors of the desert are punctuated by the bejeweled lights of the Tucson below and the clouds above. A solitary hot air balloon hangs suspended in the middle. Unfortunately, the cloud bank over the city obstructs the sunrise, washing everything in gray diffused light.

With not much else to anticipate for sunrise, I return to the hotel, scarf down a continental breakfast and check out of my room. Bags packed and stored in the trunk, I make my way east through Tucson toward the Rincon Mountain District. . . slowly. There is no easy way through or around the city.

Stoplight after stoplight and 40 minutes later, I arrive at the Rincon Visitor Center a little after 9:00 a.m. This eastern side of the park seems less developed and not as popular. The trailheads are quiet and the visitor center is smaller. Circling the scenic Cactus Forest Drive, I pull over at Loma Verde trailhead and hike up Squeeze Pen Trail. Jackrabbits are everywhere along this path, darting every which way. With the sun peaking through the cloud layer by now, their oversized ears catch the morning light perfectly.

The network of trails back here stretch far and wide. I watch the clock as I aimlessly dive further and further into the Rincon Mountain wilderness. Around 11 a.m., I haven’t really reached any major viewpoint or landmark. The small Garwood Dam lies up ahead, but nothing seems exceptionally photogenic or worthwhile, so I start my hike back to the trailhead. At noon, I load up and head north to Phoenix to fly home. It’s not the slam bang finish to a park trip I would hope for, but considering the park’s reputation and my expectations, Saguaro did me well.