Cusco Saturday Market
A group of Quechua vendors during the Saturday Market of Cusco. A seller of baked goods is taking a break while, in the foreground, a woman prepares an order of greens used to feed guinea pigs, a staple of native Peruvian cuisine.
We were headed out of Cusco on our daytrip to Machu Picchu.
Where is the ironing board?
The setting sun’s glow on the end point of Upper Siphon Draw trail, The Flatiron.
The mountain was formed by a series of volcanic eruptions between 20.5 and 18 million years ago. The west face of the mountain is composed of dacite lava and rhyolitic tuff. The overlying tuff was deposited during an eruption which created a collapse caldera bounded by faults. Dome resurgence reactivated these faults, causing uplift of the caldera floor which juxtaposed the softer tuff and more resistant dacite. Differential weathering caused the outer tuff to erode faster, leaving the dacite cliffs exposed and creating the prominent mountain visible today.
The Flatiron, the mesa-like projection above us in this view, is long solidified dacite lava. The word dacite comes from Dacia, a province of the Roman Empire which lay between the Danube River and Carpathian Mountains (now modern Romania and Moldova) where the rock was first described. Lost Dutchman State Park, Apache Junction, Maricopa County, Arizona
Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved
early one still morning
This quiet nook is hidden along the Oak Creek Canyon trail, though easy enough to find.
I visited there just at dawn when the air was still and the usually busy site deserted.
Oak Creek Canyon is named for the native, evergreen oak species unique to desert environments. The leaves conserve moisture: small, thick. I remember camping at the Chiricahua National Monument on November. All night the acorns fell onto the metal picnic tables, a loud metallic thunk.
The post header is a primrose flower growing on the bank of Oak Creek.
Recognize the rock from “Oak Creek Mandala”? This is farther up the Oak Creek Canyon trail, “photograph by Pam Wills.” I am in my warm weather photography kit of the time having passed the camera to Pam for the shot.
Click this link for my Fine Art Photography gallery. You can find Oak Creek Mandala in the Arizona gallery. The gallery description gives more information about the site.
Click this link for another Arizona post, “Cochise Dawn.”
desert survival
Mesquite is the Sonoran Desert smell carried by distant rain, omnipresent and humble, a survivor with tap root extending 190 feet down to draw on the water table.
Prosopis is the scientific name for about 40 species of leguminous trees. Present in North America since the Pliocene era, mesquite wood has been dated to 1300 BC.
I found this flowering mesquite bush in Finger Rock Canyon of the Catalina Mountains outside Tucson, Arizona.
They are thought to have evolved with megafauna in the New World. The loss of North American megafauna at the end of the Pleistocene era gave way to one theory of how the Prosopis spp. were able to survive.
One theory is that the loss of the megafauna allowed Prosopis spp. to use their fruit pods to attract other organisms to spread their seeds; then, with the introduction of livestock, they were able to spread into grasslands.
The plentiful legumes that develop from these flowers are edible when cooked. The shape and color of the seeds can be understood from this empty seed pod that happens to lie near a tarantula burrow.
Click me to read more about the uses of mesquite.
Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved
The cottonwood’s deep roots draw water from a mountain stream.
Looking back down Pima Canyon on a spring morning plenty of green under the unrelenting sun.
A large Fremont’s Cottonwood Offers shade and protection along the Pima Canyon Trail.
In the shade, a grapevine, offers a vain promise of grapes.
The cottonwood’s deep roots draw water from a mountain stream.
Native Americans in the Western United States and Mexico used parts of Frémont’s cottonwood variously for a medicine, in basket weaving, for tool making, and for musical instruments. The inner bark of Frémont’s cottonwood contains vitamin C and was chewed as an antiscorbutic – treatment for vitamin C deficiency. The bark and leaves could be used to make poultices to reduce inflammation or to treat wounds.
The Pima people of southern Arizona and northern Mexico lived along Sonoran Desert watercourses and used twigs from the tree in the fine and intricate baskets they wove. The Cahuilla people of southern California used the tree’s wood for tool making, the Pueblo peoples for drums, and the Lower Colorado River Quechan people in ritual cremations. The Hopi of Northeastern Arizona carve the root of the cottonwood to create kachina dolls.
Delicate buds develop into a flower, and then, into a cactus tuna
A set of photographs of buds and blossoms of the Prickly Pear Cactus taken in Pima Canyon of the Pusch Ridge Wilderness of the Catalina Mountains.
Here are 8 flower bud growing from one cladode (pad). There is a 9th bud on a second cladode. What is interesting about these pads are the needle shadows. Although thin, each provides some protection from the sun.
This delicate bud will develop into a flower and, then, into a cactus fruit (in spanish, tuna). The fruit retains those tiny spines, called glochids, which detach on the smallest contact. The pads are also covered with them.
Prickly pears are known for growing into thickets. The Cuban government created a “cactus curtain” of prickly pears around the Guantanamo naval base in the 1960’s, to prevent Cubans from escaping to refuge in the United States.
Look closely at the anthers of these flowers. Each curls over when touched, depositing its pollen. The habit of prickly pears to grow together in thickets mean there are clusters of blossoms in springtime.
Water and Shadows
With the afternoon in front of me, the trip back to camp was a slow pleasure. On the way in, I noted several stopping points to capture photographs. Here a natural rock sluice offers a foot tall waterfall, mirroring Reavis Falls, bracketed by white igneous stone.
This same stone offers a screen, the bright spring sun throwing the sparse leaves into sharp relief.
Basalt and Water
These are six shots of Reavis Falls from my solo expedition to this location in the remote eastern Superstition Wilderness of Arizona.
All are macro shots of the falls taken with a Canon 100mm f/2.8L lens.
I took these while perched on a pile of talus beneath the falls.
Reavis Falls are 114 feet high in a canyon hidden in the folds of mountain ridges in the remote eastern Superstition Wilderness of Arizona.
Reavis Creek falls from a sheer basalt cliff, remnants of a volcanic eruption, cool a million years ago, a little colder today by this running water.
No signposts in the wilderness
Reaching Reavis Falls, once you find the canyon mouth, is three-fourths of a mile of boulder hopping and bushwacking over and around landslides, deep pools and fallen trees. Odds are you will be the only person in the canyon for weeks, if not months. Expect to be surprised. In this chapter you will (finally) visit the falls themselves.
Click me for the chapter about the environment around the mouth of Reavis Canyon below the falls.
Here is an overview of the last third mile of Reavis Canyon. You can see the wall of the falls nestled in the folds of ridges towards the top, just off center.
On the lower right is a large landslide and, below there, it is complete chaos.
The vegetation grows shoulder to shoulder with interleaved branches. You will not get through there. The solution is to find a way around, usually over and around house-sized boulders.
After almost two hours of picking my way, there was a flicker of light. The fall waters were sparkling in the sunlight high above the cottonwood trees, in full Mach bloom, and the still leafless Arizona Sycamores.
This was my view of Reavis Falls from the canyon on a March day before the Arizona Sycamores have leaved. The falls are the tiny patch of white to the left of midline where the earth meets the sky. Jumbles of infallen boulders and thick growth of sycamores, oaks and fully leaved cottonwoods cloak the falls.
Another 30 minutes of canyoneering brought me to the foot of the falls.
Looking up at Reavis Falls from a 20 foot tall mound of talus.
These are boulders washed down at flood time.
The rock wall is thick with microorganisms, fungi and mosses.
After clambering around the talus pile I found this angle….
The Reavis Falls talus is large boulders carried down Reavis Creek and washed over the falls at flood time as well as blocks fractured from the cliff face. You can see the base of the Sycamore from the previous photograph.
The falls are formed where Reavis Creek flows over a solid mass of rock. The talus is composed mostly of this red rock. From the edge of this cliff to the base, where the falls hit the canyon floor, is all of 140 feet. This is a far as you can proceed into the canyon without some serious climbing skills.
It is possible to climb around the canyon by climbing up the ridge from which I captured the Cedar Basin Hoodoos. See my posts below for this location (you need to work it our for yourself).
This is NOT the last post of the series. From here I will focus on the beauty of Reavis Falls and the canyon that holds them.
It was a four-day expedition so there are a few chapters covering the approach to the Falls:
Hoodoos on the Descent to Reavis Falls
Reavis Canyon Rivulets and Rocks
Canyon of Wonder and Beauty
The Superstition Wilderness was born from volcanic eruption and in some places (Peters Mesa) the earth still rumbles.
Here in Reavis Canyon it is the huge spring runoff that builds the environment, grinding and scouring the canyon. In my chapter The Mouth of Reavis Canyon is the story of this aspect of the canyon.
The history of this spot is written on these volcanic and igneous rocks and boulders, the uprooted tree roots and fresh water.
In this chapter I present, in the header, the lovely dawn sky of that day, and a tiny corner of a rock jumble in Reavis Creek. There is a large format version of the sky in my previous post, “The Mouth of Reavis Canyon.”
Michael Stephen Wills Photography 