Southwest Field Studies 2004 Field Reports

April 6-11 (Marisa Shuman) Climbing near Tucson

Six of us went rock climbing with Earlham grad Corey Hadden. We spent 3 days climbing granite slabs at Cochise Stronghold near Tucson. With a range of abilites from beginner to seasoned climbers of rocks and trees we all found great challenges at the infamous Apache stronghold. The climbs were all 80-100 feet tall. The rock was sharp and the holds were tiny, but slowly, with even breaths and spidery agility, we all picked our way up the rock and found our ability to move vertically. The climbs at Cochise gave some of us the opportunity to learn to "clean" a route (remove the gear after we finished climbing) and try leading or " mock" leading a climb (being the first climber to ascend, trailing a rope and clipping in to permanent bolts in the rock as you climb, meaning you must climb above your protection). After a lot of fast food, we made it to Oak Creek Overlook, about 6 hours north of Tucson, outside of Flagstaff. There we climbed columnar basalt formations--fun cracks--and learned to set up top rope anchors at the top of the cliff. We indulged in some serious car camping, eating out, and we even went to see the movie The Ladykillers. It was all like a big roadtrip, a different style than many of our travels.

March to April (Annika Taylor) Saguaro Juniper and Hiking Trip

We returned to Saguaro-Juniper to finish our natural history project with Leslie Bishop. We were looking at the density of spider webs as it is related to plant heterogeneity and then comparing north and south-facing slopes on their results. Because of all of the rain that we had been recieving, the desert was in full bloom. One rainy day we identified over twenty species of flowers and we still had at least five plants that we couldn't identify. On one of the nicer days we hiked up the canyon and looked at the differnt aquatic life that we found in the river. We compared the life cycles of insects that were found in the ephemeral sections of the river to those found in the perennial water. Overall though we were kept quite busy outside looking and observing that amazing biotic communities around us, rain or shine. After our time with Leslie we broke up into smaller groups for a back-country trip. Half of the group went climbing (refer to Marisa's write-up), while the other half of the group went backpacking in the Galiuro Mountains for six days. The backpackers were broken up into two smaller groups. We started at opposite ends of a 54-mile trail and passed in the middle. My group (Annika, James and Charles) started at Ash creek and hiked out of Hot Springs Canyon, ending up back at Saguaro-Juniper. Our first day we went up Bassett Peak and explored a plane wreck from the WWII era. The next day we hiked 12 miles along the ridge-line. Amazing scenery - we could see Tucson in the distance, not to mention all of the canyons and mountains inbetween us and the city. The next couple days were spent exploring Redfield Canyon. To say that the scenery was amazing would put the canyon to shame. Never in my life have I seen such variation in flora and fauna in such a short span of time as I did in Redfield Canyon. We saw everything from the mighty Saguaro cacti to bromiliades to poison ivy forests to flowering cacti. It was incredible and there was so much water that our boots were wet the entire trip. There were times when the easiest trail to follow was down the middle of the river. Overall, it was an incredible trip. We had wonderful scenery, wonderful weather and a wonderful time, despite blisters and encounters with poision ivy.

February 23rd (Marisa Shuman) Solo on Tiburon Island and Experiences with the Seri

On the morning of February 23rd, Alfredo, a Seri Anciano (elder), ferried us by ponga boat to the uninhabited and sacred Isla Tiburon. We each carried only a few things: some bedding, clothing, water, a journal, and perhaps a small bag of food. After teaching us about a Seri game that is meant to induce problem solving, leading to a clearing of the mind, Alfredo returned to his village of Punta Chueca on the mainland. He would return for us the next morning. We watched him motor away and then each set off down the beach for our twenty hour solo experience on a true desert—and deserted—island..

For the following update, a bit about my experience with the Seri, I chose an excerpt from my journal (edited somewhat, for clarity) written sometime during that solitary afternoon:

We just finished five days with the Seri-Comcaac, in their tongue-in Desemboque, Sonora, Mexico. At first I felt as if walking into an issue of National Geographic magazine, it was glossy and unreal, but that magazine experience, I quickly learned, is for waiting rooms and rocking chairs. Really, at first it felt more like a desert slum. The village was laid out as blocks of dirt and dusty roads with government built housing and facilities. There was garbage everywhere: on the side of the road, in people’s yards, houses, on the beach. Empty Coke bottles prevailed. Also: other beverage holders and unidentifiable plastic or metal containers, old shoes, bicycle parts, building material, cans, scrap metal, fishing debris. No food particles though, because of the dogs. According to what I’ve been told, the dogs are highly loved and revered. Over Seri history the dogs and the people developed a relationship of mutualism based on providence of protection, food scraps, and water in the desert. But I noticed the following: A dog would not come near you if you put out your hand for it or made like you were going to pet it; the dogs would move out of your way if you walked near; they would shy away from your touch if you ever got that close; a sharp 'ISSSHT' and a swat in their direction would get them out of the room or your way. I noticed people kicking them, swatting at them, sitting on them. I never once saw what I know as a sign of affection toward domestic animals, like petting or kind words or gestures. I never even saw one being given the scraps I assumed they lived on. Yet those pups were more loyal and well-behaved than most dogs I’ve ever met. They never jumped on you, demanded your attention, or begged too physcially or aggressively (but they certainly would cock their furry heads and flash those big sad eyes). They followed their people everywhere. I was told that each dog (over a hundred, for sure) actually belonged to a certain house and family, and that each dog took its family’s name, though I saw absolutely no evidence myself of any dog having any name other than 'ISSSHT'. I never expected to want to touch any of them because they all had a serious case of mange, but I found myself (coming from the land of spoiled and bratty pets) feeling so sad for them that I wanted to give them some affection. I missed fawning over my own pet (Lily, a tortoise-shell cat) at home. The dogs would usually shy away from my hand before I even got close enough, or they would remain stiff under my touch, enduring the master species. One let me scratch his head and maybe even liked it, but it was foreign to him and he didn’t seem sure what to do about it. I let him alone. They were an adorable and pathetic bunch. One night, a few of us watched a sleepy one sitting by the fire. With his mish-mush of breeds he looked like Yoda, his body sat alert by the warmth, but his tired eyes kept closing from the night and the smoke. The mutts seemed so content in their mangy bodies on those nights curled up by the fire with the sounds of Adolfo or Amalia singing songs and shaking shakers, young Comcaac stomping their feet on the dancing box, dancing a beat that resonates through your core.

February 16-22 (Jay Roberts) Seri Indians at Desemboque

I just returned from a wonderful visit with the Southwest Field Studies group. For the last week, we have been studying the Cultural Ecology of the Comcaac (Seri) Indians of Northwestern Mexico. The Comcaac are an indigenous people that have historically lived on or near the Sea of Cortez in the state of Sonora, Mexico. It is a truly magical place- where the desert meets the sea and one can see massive Cardon cactus almost to the waters edge. We worked with Laurie Monti- an ethnobotanist from Northern Arizona University who has done research with the Comcaac for the last five years. In particular, Laurie has been instrumental in working with the elders (los ancianos) and the youth to preserve and continue the wealth of traditional knowledge developed over the thousands of years of adaptation in the region. The result of this work is the development of a paraecologist program- where the elders train the youth in both the traditional classifications and function of the flora and fauna and the scientific. It was amazing to see their note pads filled with plant names and uses in Comcaac, Spanish, and the scientific classification. All this information has been used to develop a land management plan for the region- including the protection of several endangered species.

Our students worked with Laurie in a traditional foods project throughout the week- gathering native edible plants to prepare for individuals with diabetes- a rising problem amongst the Comcaac as their diet has changed dramatically with westernization. The hope was that increasing native food consumption might lower blood sugars and encourage more traditional food preparation. Students also helped collect desert oregano- a potential sustainable micro-enterprise. The herb is apparently highly prized in Tucson and Phoenix restaurants. We also were lucky to witness a major political event! One morning, a helicopter and plane hovered over the remote village and we were suddenly in the midst of a quickly called community meeting where officials from Hermosillo (the capital of Sonora) presented a new grant program to the Comcaac nation. It was all over quickly and the politicians hustled away in their SUV's and planes and left us in the dust (literally). At least it seemed as though the program may, in fact, help the local people. Only time will tell.

The week went by quickly. A walk to a sacred tinaja and lots of laughter and games with the local children culminated in a grand "despedida" with dancing songs and face painting. It was truly a magical week. The Comcaac people are so welcoming and kind. They are also true environmentalists- acutely aware of the uniqueness of their home and of their knowledge and keen to share it with others. I think we were all touched by the experience and hopeful that they remain, as much as possible, in control of their way of life and their future.

February 16th (Beth Jackson) Mexico Borderlinks

We spent February 10th to the 15th with Borderlinks. Borderlinks is an organization that strives to educate groups about the issues surrounding the U.S-Mexico border. We spent a brief amount of time in Tucson, AZ for an orientation and introduction, and then headed to Nogales, Sonora, Mexico. There we stayed in Borderlinks’ Mexico headquarters, Casa de la Misericordia (House of Mercy) several nights, with Mexican families two nights, and our final night in Altar (a meeting place for migrants heading to and returning from the border illegally).

The five days lead us through many activities, organizations, and speakers. We had an inspiring conversation with Rev. John Fife from the Southside church in Tucson. We learned a lot about the history of the border and his role in the Sanctuary movement. Through him we also learned about one of the biggest problems facing the border region now, the amount of migrant deaths occurring in the desert crossing regions.

For the two nights we spent with host families, we were split into four groups. The evenings started out awkward, as we were all adjusting to a new situation and struggling with communication. Soon though, we settled in and had lots of great informative conversations. The families were very welcoming and were excited to answer all of our numerous questions.

Perhaps the most intense part of the week was when we visited Altar. The place we stayed was a church that provides food and shelter for migrants retuning or heading to the border. We began the evening with a discussion with some of the volunteers who run the church. From them we learned lots of things about economics, and the relations between the U.S and Mexican government. After the discussion, migrants began to arrive and we all sat down to dinner. For many of us, it was a uncomfortable situation, being U.S. citizens and having dinner with men who were going to risk their lives to cross the border, knowing that several days earlier our group walked between Nogales, AZ, and Nogales, Son, hardly showing identification. It was a great learning experience though; talking to individuals and learning their story, why they were crossing, and where they were coming from and heading. We found all of the were looking for work and their only destination seemed to be somewhere where there was work. We learned many of them had two or three children and a wife at home who were relying on their success to be able to eat.

The five days we spent on the border proved to be a time full of learning experiences. Many of us experienced new feelings, thought about what it means to be American, and what opportunities we have that are not even a thought in many other places. Whether we were being hassled to buy things in downtown Nogales, walking though a Maquila, explaining all the things we get to do on Southwest to our host families, or sharing a meal with the migrants, we were always conscience of our nationality and felt somewhat guilty or uncomfortable because of the situations we were placed in. We left Borderlinks with a better understanding of the border region, and the situations that are forcing people to come to the U.S to work. We are more aware of the opportunities we have because we live in U.S, and are ready to bring our experiences back with us and teach other people about what we have learned. Most importantly we gained a new perspective; we decided that the next time we go to El Rodeo were not going to view the workers in the same way. We will have lots of questions about where they came from, are they here legally, why they are here and so on. Hopefully what we are bringing back is a small part of the perspective of the people and organizations we met.

February 16th (Marie Nicholson) Nogales and Kino Bay

We arrived in Mexico last Tuesday. No problems crossing the border, just a couple of questions and we were on our way. Our big vans always bring lots of stares but especially when we're pulling this big trailer behind us and going up the steep dirt and bumpy roads in the hills of Nogales. The poverty is amazing but not unlike some that I have seen in other third world countries. The difference is that we weren't just driving through but had a chance to live there and stay with some of the families though our homestays were with some of the top of the poorer class.

The biggest difficulty was the language barrier which meant that I had to rely on others to translate and for the most part that was our two leaders of Borderlinks. It is hard to engage in real conversation when you are trying to talk through someone else. The greatest impact for me was when we were with the Mexicans in the town of Altar. We had dinner with some of the people who were planning to get a ride to the border the next morning and hope to cross "illegally" into the US when they could. It is hard to look into their faces and see the hope that they have about going there to get jobs in the US so that they can come back with money to support their families. They want to stay in mexico, but there are no jobs and they need to food to eat. They have no idea what they are up against, even if they do cross the border, and what distances they have to travel.

Being in Kino Bay is a relief from that intense time - a beach to go walk on and email to be in touch with family. Even showers if we want.

February 9th (Walker Farrell) Canoeing the Rio Grande

From January 15-24 we took an eighty-four mile canoe trip through the lower-canyons section of the Rio Grande. With our eleven students, two instructors, and our canoe guide Corey, we totaled fourteen people and thus seven canoes. Our gear included several backbreakingly heavy bags of backcountry food, three coolers, five tents, two Coleman gas stoves, pots, pans and spices, fifteen five-gallon jugs of water, and three “poopers,” which are like toilet seats on top of plastic boxes that must be transported from site to site as they get heavier and the food bags get lighter over the course of the trip.

The first day was a lesson in frustration for some of us as we paddled in circles, running into cliff faces, river cane, and each other’s boats, but by the third or fourth day most of us had mastered the basic paddling skills necessary for flatwater. We encountered few named rapids in the first couple days, but the short faster passages and curves around (or through) intruding river cane provided enough excitement for our initial skills. The river was slow flowing and shallow, the water usually either clear or green depending on the depth. In many places it was so shallow we had to disembark and drag our boats over rocks.

Our campsite one night was above a small canyon full of thick and smooth mud: a bunch of us frolicked in the mud for upwards of an hour; hopefully my pictures of the experience will be uploaded to this website. On the evening of day 3 we came to our first class II rapid, Hot Springs Rapid, which was a wall shot: a fast motion down a sort of chute and then a sharp right turn to avoid slamming into a large boulder. Most of us did make gasping contact with that boulder, but we all made it through safely, and were then free to graze in the hot springs for which it is named, where we camped for the night. A few of us hiked into the canyon behind the hot springs, which was a giant flood plane. The width of the area free of plant life was astonishing. The next morning we awoke to find the river raised by several feet. This changed the nature of the river entirely; it seemed to me as though our campsite had been helicoptered away in the middle of the night and deposited miles away. Now the river was swift and full of silt, making a thick brown color as though we were paddling through a Yoo-Hoo factory. The difference, of course, was that this factory was full of boulders, so the rapids were now increased dramatically in size, difficulty and, most of all, excitement.

That afternoon we came to a rapid known as Rodeo Rapids, so called because when the river is up (which it was) the rapid contains the largest standing wave in the lower canyons. This wave, about five feet tall, was the first in a series of twenty or thirty standing waves directly to the right of a steep cliff face. We unloaded all our gear before attempting this behemoth, and the majority of the boats did indeed go over at some point in the rapid. I would venture to say that it was the most exciting thing we have done thus far this semester.

The rest of the trip was not so immediately exciting, though it did include several more rapid-runs and a couple painful portages. The last full day of paddling was cold and misty, with off-and-on drizzle. We paddled over twenty miles that day, with ailing muscles and cries of “Zion!” when we finally reached camp.

Update #2

After the Rio Lower Canyons trip we spent two days at Hueco Tanks, a world renowned climbing destination. We were able to boulder on the amazing igneous intrusion and get to know climbers who traveled there from Europe, most notably Italy. The Huecos, depressions eroded in the rock by rain, can hold water for weeks after rains. These huecos have been used by native populations for thousands of years as scarce water sources in an otherwise barren region. There are extensive pictographs left by natives that dot the mountain of boulders.

We left Hueco Tanks and drove out of Texas, through New Mexico, and into Arizona to Gilbert Ray Campground, where we were joined by Earlham biology professor Leslie Bishop. Here we were introduced to the wonders of the lush Sonoran Desert. The Sonoran is most noted for its massive saguaro cacti and even more notorious, to our group at least, for its Jumping Cholla cacti.

A group of us took off on a sunrise hike up the tallest mountain we could see in the Tucson Mountain Range. The first two hours of the hike were by headlamp up an increasingly steep slope. In the dark we had our first encounter with the cholla. With the slightest touch a dropped segment intended for asexual reproduction would cling to a boot. Generally this would not be noticed until the next step when you planted the cactus deep into the back of your calf. If you tried to pull it out with your hand the barbed spines would stick to your hand. Needless to say, it was a good thing our Leatherman pocketknives had pliers. We quickly learned to be very careful around the cholla.

We made it to the peak about 20 minutes after sunrise but it was still spectacular. We had a 360-degree view of the basin and range province, and our campsite was still very, very small in our binoculars. We watched the long shadows slowly shrink, the fog lift from some isolated valleys and planes fly below us in the valley. It was an amazing hike!

Also at Gilbert Ray, Arizona State University biology professor and author John Alcock paid us a visit. Although his expertise lies in the field of insect mating patterns, he introduced us to the indigenous plant life of the Sonoran desert. His tour of our campground revealed to us new and fascinating plants and also ones we recognized from the Chihuahuan desert.

Later on during our stay there, University of Arizona graduate biology student (and Earlham alumnus) Matt spoke to us about his latest research project concerning the nesting behaviors of burrow owls. We also spent time at the nearby desert museum and learned more about the local plant and animal life.

After Gilbert Ray, we traveled to Saguaro Juniper, which is located in a canyon at the border between the Chihuahan and Sonoran Deserts, and as such contains much of the plant life of both, as well as some unusual (for the region) plants such as cottonwood and sycamore trees. There we met our neighbors David and Pearl on one side, and Daniel on the other. They showed us how they were able to live on the land in an environmentally efficient manner. They grow and gather much of their own food, get their water from an underground well which is pumped by a windmill, and live without electricity and gas lines to their houses. Their rule of thumb is to live as absolutely simply as you can, but no simpler.

Most of our time in the Saguaro Juniper area was spent working on Leslie Bishop’s Spider Project, which will be concluded in April when we return to the same site. We separated into four groups, each of which chose a hill with a north- and a south-facing slope. We then surveyed the slopes and compared them between groups. We chose the acacia tree as the plant around which to base our study because it was prominent or at least present on both slopes of all groups’ hills. We measured the acacia density on each slope and the mean distance to acacias’ nearest acacia neighbors. Then (the most tedious and sometimes painful part of the project) we took measurements of the structure of 20 randomly chosen acacias on each slope, measurements which will be used to calculate spider habitat heterogeneity. Taking these measurements involved a count of plant contact with a PVC pipe in various height intervals and at various north-south and east-west grid locations. This basically results in a numerical 3-d graph of the plant’s structure. Unfortunately for our morale, the steepness of the slopes and the rude number of thorns in the average acacia (as well as the biting wind or blistering sun, depending on the day) made the process long and difficult, and by the fortieth plant, we were all beyond ready to stop.

Luckily, it seems likely that when we return to Saguaro Juniper in the spring we will be greeted with nice weather, blooming vegetation and hopefully a large spider population to study. We saw Leslie off on our last full day in the area and then packed up ourselves, moving temporarily to a Quaker meetinghouse in Tucson. Yesterday and today were largely days off, and we were free to wander the streets of Tucson, which are bustling with hippies, punks and people. Tomorrow we will drive to Nogales, on the Arizona-Mexico border, to begin our week with Borderlinks.

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