Patagonia by the Back Way
a Tubac day trip
Story by Roseann Hanson
Photography by Roseann and Jonathan Hanson
Bumping along Bull Springs Road, a backroad route to Patagonia, the sensory combination of temperature and smells and motion triggered an old memory: summers spent exploring the abandoned mines, ghost towns, and working ranches of the Santa Rita Mountains, five of us kids packed into my parents’ bare-bones Travel-All - hot and sweaty and jostled, but happy to be out on an adventure.
That’s exactly how I felt a few weeks ago, only this time my ride was a bit more cush: a brand-new Jeep Wrangler Unlimited Rubicon, on loan to my husband, Jonathan, whose magazine, Overland Journal, features self-driven adventures around the globe by four-wheel-drive or adventure motorcycle. Our day trip from Tubac to Patagonia the “back way” was the perfect inaugural test for the Jeep.
The day promised to be hot, pushing big white clouds up the flanks of the Santa Ritas before us as we crossed the foot-deep Santa Cruz River in mid-morning and rolled east from Amado on Amado-Montosa Road (which becomes Forest Service Road 184). At a windmill a few miles in, we stopped to admire the views of the Santa Ritas in the east, dominated by the 8,550-foot Mt. Hopkis and its Smithsonian-Harvard Astrophysical Observatory; the impressive Phelps Dodge copper mine in the Sierrita Mountains to the northwest; the jagged Coyote Mountains and Baboquivari Peak to the west; and closer in, to the southwest, the Tumacacori Highlands.
Four miles from the river we hit the paved Mt. Hopkins Road, took a right and then another right just a scant mile farther east, onto Bull Springs Road, which used to be passable by most high-clearance cars but washouts now necessitate the help of four-wheel-drive. Summer rains had brought out tropical greenery: ocotillos were in full leaf, and an impressive-looking nettle called “mala mujer” (bad woman) lined the roads and provided nectar to scores of pale yellow-green cabbage butterflies.
Bull Springs Road meanders up and over and around the foothills of the Santa Ritas, with the pyramidal Mt. Hopkins peering down at us most of the drive. Rains had been good, and puddles yielded animal tracks from the shyer creatures of the desert: coyotes, foxes, white-tail deer, and the occasional roadrunner.
At Cottonwood Canyon, about five miles down Bull Springs Road, we slowed to watch as two red-tailed hawks circled up from the creek, one of them clutching what appeared to be a baby quail. A white-tail doe stood placidly in the creek bed, licking a rock for its mineral salts; her companion, hidden for a few minutes in a thicket, took exception to the noise of our A/C compressor kicking on, and bolted up the ridge.
Our plan was to have a late lunch in Patagonia, and spend the afternoon exploring the art galleries and bookstore. But the road was in worse condition than we had remembered from a late-90s trip, so we munched on some emergency rations (chocolate chip cookies and Coke) and carried on, passing more tropical plant profusion: flame flower, coral bean, wild cotton, trumpet flower, and screw-bean mesquite. At a bubbly little creek in Bond Canyon the soapberry trees were blooming, attended by riotous insect activity. Myriad cabbage butterflies danced around the occasional queen, dodging wasps and beetles. A molting male Cooper’s hawk gave us the cold shoulder from one of the trees, while high above a Swainson’s hawk drifted on the ever-increasing thermals. Thunder began to rumble.
Eighteen miles and nearly four hours after we left Amado, we came to the main road of Salero Ranch, once a large working ranch in Arizona Territory and now a “ranchette” development owned by a Scottsdale developer (with very little building as-yet). We stopped to look at an impressive adobe ruin, standing testament to the hundreds of people who once lived in this rugged country eeking out a living as miners and ranchers. But today, we saw no other humans. It was just us, the hawks, and the butterflies.
We made up lots of time on the well-maintained Salero Ranch Road, reaching Sonoita Creek at Blue Heaven Road (which provides access to the famous Nature Conservancy Sonoita Creek Preserve) at just after 2 pm. Ten minutes later we were happily enjoying a couple of Tecates and a dish of toritos (“little bulls”) at Mercedes’ Cafe on Highway 82. These delectable treats are jalapenos stuffed with lime-sprinkled shrimp and queso seco, wrapped in bacon, and deep-fried.
We walked over to the galleries and shops on McKowen Avenue (the ‘other’ main street, which runs parallel to Highway 82), past the old train station. We said hello to Ann Caston at her delightful Mariposa Books, and then browsed the current show at the adjacent Metamorphosis Art Gallery, where we ran into a friendly photographer whose work was in the show - something that is highly likely to happen in a town the size of Patagonia. Because it was summer season when we visited, a number of the galleries were closed - such as the venerable Mesquite Grove Gallery, whose namesake shade tree is well over 100 years old.
The wind was picking up, and as we got back into the Jeep, I heard a ruckus and looked up to see three Cassin’s kingbirds mobbing a zone-tailed hawk, which piped irritably as it flew across the main square. Just as I stepped into the truck, a ferocious summer squall began to pummel the earth, whipping the trees and sending all the tourists running for cover.
A perfect end to a southern Arizona summer adventure.
Roseann Hanson has worked around the globe for more than 25 years as a guide, journalist, and conservation program director; she owns ConserVentures, LLC, a conservation and adventure travel consultancy. Her work has taken her from the deep backcountry of Mexico's Sierra Madre to Ethiopia's Omo Valley, and from Arctic Canada to the plains of the Serengeti. Whether leading birdwatching tours, guiding 4WD adventure safaris, or teaching wildlife tracking for conservation groups, she enjoys integrating conservation, science, outdoor skills, and cultural awareness into her work. When not traveling, she works from her off-the-grid solar home with her husband Jonathan in a remote corner of the the Sonoran Desert southwest of Tucson, Arizona. Before taking up international conservation work, she sold her silverwork and lapidary creations in Tubac, at the Renee Taylor Gallery.
TUBAC ARIZONA
TUBAC VILLAGER
Since Salero Ranch was developed, the only public access to Patagonia via the “back way” is on Forest Service roads out of Amado.
From Tubac, take I-19 north to Arivaca Junction, and take the east-side frontage road south to Amado.
Turn east onto Amado-Montosa Road, which crosses the river and then doglegs a couple times; you’ll pass Montosa Canyon Ranch and Rex Ranch, where the road climbs and curves up onto the Santa Rita bajada. Follow this road (Forest Road 184) four miles past Rex Ranch, where it tees onto Mt. Hopkins Road.
Turn right and go one mile to Bull Springs Road (Forest Road 143), on the right. Follow 143 to Salero Ranch Road; on older maps and the current Google map interfaces, there is one section that shows 143 on a higher track above the current road; keep following the most-used track (there are signs along the route for
FR 143).
The total distance from the beginning of Forest Road 184 (Rex Ranch) to Highway 82 at Sonoita Creek is 30 miles. It took us about four hours, with stops for photography and exploring.
For listings of restaurants, galleries, shops and events, see patagoniaaz.com
The 21st Annual Patagonia Fall Festival is October 9 - 11, with 140 arts and crafts vendors and local food. Coronado National Forest: fs.fed.us
/r3/coronado/
Although our Jeep came from the factory with some nice options that make it extra-capable on tough roads (BF Goodrich Mud-Terrains, front and rear locking differentials, electronic sway-bar disconnect, and a few other goodies), any four-wheel-drive with high clearance can easily traverse Bull Springs Road to Patagonia. The road is not highly ‘technical’ but here are some tips if you don’t have a lot of experience with four-wheel-drives:
Always engage your four-wheel-drive any time you are on a road where you might lose traction and spin your wheels; this causes erosion, which causes a cascade-effect of damage to the landscape and local creeks.
When you come to a wash-out where there are lots of deep ruts running the same way as the road, keep your tires on the tops of the ruts, rather than inside them, so you don’t drag or damage your vehicle’s running gear or transfer case.
Likewise, drive your tires over rocks rather than straddle them between the tires if they look taller than your differential.
“Low and slow” is the rule; don’t gun it and try to bash and muscle your way up or over a tough section. Put your transmission (which should already be in 4WD) in low range, shift into first, engage the clutch (if a manual), and let the torque pull you along. Keep your foot off the clutch as much as possible, and only feather the gas if needed.
There is no such thing as an “off-road” vehicle; always stay on existing, legal (marked) roads; if you see what looks like just a single set of tire tracks heading off somewhere, and it’s not marked on your map or with a sign, don’t drive on it.
In ranch country, leave the gates the way you find them (unless there is a sign on the gate obviously advising users to its status, for cattle management).
