Water Worries

March SEAHA note from the editor

I was just listening to Petey Mesquite on KXCI. If you've never heard his Growing Native radio show, think of the Baxter Black of desert horticulture and ecology. A consummate plant and animal lover, his 5-minute segment this Saturday was on the Santa Cruz "river." Petey talks about the Bosques that used to rim Tucson's river 100 years ago, full of wetland plants and animals. I have no trouble visualizing a healthy river system; the Bosque de Apache near Belen, NM is the winter home of thousands of Sand Hill Cranes, Arctic Geese, ducks. Seventy-five miles south of there we used to wade into the chest-deep Rio Grande to gather the 3 foot catfish from the trot lines we'd set the night before. The Santa Cruz must have been like that once, the bones of 6-foot sturgeon have been found at an abandoned Indian pueblo near Tucson. One hundred miles south of Bosque de Apache the Rio Grande hits Las Cruces, where unfortunately it is going the way of the Santa Cruz, we often called it the "Rio Sande." The last time I was there, quad-runners plied the sand where we caught catfish 10 years ago. Petey's commentary also reminded me of some recent trail ride water worries and how quickly we forget the pervasive necessity of water. Water is a fact(or) of life. A pre-urban legend tells that Indians broke green horses by walking them into deep water before mounting the first time. The truism that every animal species can swim from birth, except man, is not that deep a mystery. An animal is not afraid of and usually won't drown in water, unless man is involved.
We quickly overlook our need for water and cancel plans in frustration when it clouds up. I was in the Navy in Hawaii for several years, and went scuba diving most weekends. Sometimes we'd wake up Saturday morning and look out a hatch only to find a gray, dreary day. "Aww, I guess we better cancel our dive plans," I'd say to my dive partner. With characteristic pragmatism, Smitty would say, "Why? We're gonna get wet anyway." I sometimes see the glass half empty... of water. I even bailed out of the Catalina trail ride, because it was raining. But I actually love the rain, its scarcity in the desert makes it all the more exhilarating, this spring's rides will surely be colorful. Change the months and Chaucer tells it best;

When in April the sweet showers fall
That pierce March's drought to the root and all
And bathed every vein in liquor that has power
To generate therein and sire the flower

With this winter's sweet showers we can be confident of plenty of flowers to make our spring rides spectacular.
This month SEAHA is helping build the Arizona Trail, perhaps one day our club will be able to help rebuild another, more liquid trail, the Santa Cruz river.