The outdoors is a solace and an escape for many of us, and Arizona State Parks and Trails is there when you need a reset. During the Covid pandemic, our agency was deemed an essential service by Governor Doug Ducey. We were proud and honored to keep Arizona’s beautiful and diverse state parks open and accessible for you all the while. During this time, we have had the privilege of serving regular park-goers as well as the increasing population of new outdoor users. We've seen you head outdoors for fresh, new perspectives on life or to spend time in a familiar place! We couldn’t be happier to be there for you and we've never felt closer than when we're together outside!

We asked for stories about your outdoor fun in Arizona’s state parks and how your experiences in them have had a positive effect on pandemic life. You wrote in about how getting outside to one of our more than 30 parks (or inside to a historic park) helped you during that trying time. Below are some of the nearly 100 stories we received!

Jump To: First Place: Meghan Selich  |  Second Place: ML Gordon  |  Third Place (tie) R. Ashurst|  |  Third Place (tie) Stacey Padgett  |  Honorable Mentions

First Place: Meghan Selich

The past year has been challenging in some ways for our family. I taught first grade from home in the spring, my husband has been working from home since a week before the rest of the state caught on, and our son has been participating in virtual learning for a full year now. However, we found ourselves with more time than ever to participate in activities we love – outdoor recreation! We love hiking, fishing, geocaching, and much more. We feel truly fortunate that our favorite activities continue to be available, and even more importantly, are considered the safest activities you can participate in, amidst the current pandemic.

Our first state park stop was Picacho Peak. One early morning in September, we took a drive and met up with grandparents who we had not seen since March, to go for a relaxing walk on the Calloway Trail. The bench at the end, overlooking the valley below and down toward Tucson was a beautiful sight. Standing with my mom while watching my husband, dad, and son, looking off into the distance was heart-warming. In a time of fear and uncertainty, it was very grounding to stand, looking at a peak that has been standing exactly the way it is, for longer than humans have been on Earth.

In October, we headed to Catalina State Park. If you have never geocached with kids before, Catalina State Park is a great place to introduce them to it. There are fabulous puzzle geocaches, designed and hidden by fellow nature-lovers. Our son was thrilled with what he found there. On top of that, we saw deer, roadrunners, quail, hawks, and lots of unique-looking rock specimens. There are plenty of trails and signs about the area and its history. There is even a trail that takes you to an archaeological site!

It was hard to disguise our excitement at the beginning of this year when we came across information about the state’s Eight4Two Challenge. We knew we were interested, right from the start, and registered immediately. One of the parks we visited was the Tubac Presidio State Historic Park. That is an excellent site with friendly and helpful volunteers. Our son completed the Junior Ranger Activities and was sworn in as an official Junior Ranger. He received two posters – one with all the State Parks and another, a rendition of the Tubac Presidio back in the 1700s. His favorite part was pushing against the wooden planks that make up the arrastra, a tool used for grinding ore. As part of the challenge, we also visited Oracle State Park for the very first time. Although we were unable to visit the ranch house, we found a lot of excitement on the many connecting trails! For one, there was some snow on the ground, which as southern Arizonans know, is always a unique experience, especially for kids. Secondly, we appeared to be on the trail of a bobcat. There were signs of one throughout the wildlife corridor, and many times, our dog companions seemed to pick up on his or her movements. We completed the challenge with visits to Kartchner Caverns State Park and a second trip to Catalina State Park. 

I will end by saying that here we are, a year since schools in Arizona closed, when many of us worried about how long we would be “confined.” Visiting the State Parks, and knowing that excellent Junior Ranger programming, trails, and more are always just a stone’s throw away, filled our weekends with joy and a feeling of closeness with nature and each other. We have not felt confined! Our last state park adventures took place over Spring Break 2021. In one week we visited three state parks! Dead Horse Ranch State Park was first, where our family caught 6 foot-long trout and saw two Bald Eagles. Then, Jerome State Park, where my husband’s heart raced as our son stood over the (glass-covered) shaft to the Little Daisy Mine that goes straight down, 1,900 feet. It ended with a stop at Fort Verde, which is the only state park we have visited where the staff dresses in period clothing and even demonstrates weapon use. Thank you to everyone who makes our state parks a wonderful experience for all visitors.

Second Place: ML Gordon

In a Phoenix July, the heat hits you in the face the moment you open the door. It's like walking into a plate of glass: you don't see it coming, but it stops you dead in your tracks just the same. We spend most of that month going from one air conditioned place to another. 

"It's a terrible month to be born in," my then 8-year-old son told me as he moped in front of a screen, knowing that there was little chance of seeing friends and absolutely no chance of an indoor birthday this year. A pile of books about dragons was scattered over his floor. In the hopes of forgetting the pandemic and the horrors of the real world, he and his best friend had created a fantasy dragon world in Minecraft: all caverns and stalactites and dark recesses in the pixelated digital rock. 

"What if," I said, thinking aloud, "we could go underground, like the dragons? What if I could take you to a cave for your birthday . . . a real one?" 

He lit up like a firecracker. "Really?"

"And what if Alex could come?" It would be the first time he had seen his friend in months.

Tentatively, but with growing excitement, Alex's mother and I planned a socially distanced picnic under the ramada and a trip underground to Kartchner Caverns for our boys. 

The joy was palpable when we arrived. The boys' pandemic stress melted away as we slipped into the cool earth for an hour and watched the shadows and light play on the rocks. They marveled at soda straws and wrinkled their noses at bat guano, thousands upon thousands of years older than them. Their lives had been compressed into screens and boxes for months, but here they were dragons and heroes and adventurers again in a world that filled their senses and in a landscape that captured their imagination. 

“Are you having fun, buddy?”

His eyes were huge and luminous in the cavern’s dim light, but I could just make out the flash of his grin as he squeezed my hand. The boy with the head full of wonder was back. All the way home, he invented stories about caves, lost treasures, and stalagmites that hid fabulous beasts.

We went back to Kartchner this month, this time to the cabins—our first family vacation in over a year. Sitting on the porch, we watched the stars blanket the huge Arizona sky. 2020 had been a roller coaster. I thought of everything my children had missed out on. I felt like I had spent the year holding my breath, and yet here we were: still together, still outside. 

And it was still enough.

I exhaled—this time, a sigh of contentment—and turned my eyes to the sky.

Third Place (tie): R. Ashurst

March in northern Arizona and it’s snowing. Again. We looked at each other and said, “let’s go somewhere warmer!” The most remarkable thing about Arizona’s climate zones is that they’re only a couple hours apart. So, we freed the trailer from its icy hold, and lit out for points south, beginning with Catalina State Park.

Road trip excitement ramped up right away when I-17’s resident bald eagle waved bon voyage as we dropped off the Mogollon Rim. Heading south, we gratefully picked up all of the degrees we came across.

Things got a little animated when the wildflowers made a surprise appearance, and we couldn’t help pointing and shouting brittle bush! globe mallow! something purple! Whoa...it’s a blooming Palo Verdeee!

It felt great to be back among our old friends, the saguaros, and we accepted their invitation to stay a while. An unobstructed view of the stony Catalinas from our lounge chairs made a beautiful way to end each day and welcome the night. Early morning walks on nature’s artfully landscaped trails with brush and bramble, arroyos and animals, were difficult to leave, but it was necessary to press on and make the 38 minute journey to our next venture.

Picacho Peak State Park, 5:45 a.m.: an agonizing scream followed by a whimpering plea to call 911 emanated from the depth of my quads. My reflexive massage was met with a painful hiss. What in the world happened out there yesterday? The hike to Picacho Peak didn’t seem difficult, and we enjoyed the undulating climb among all of its best features. Wild honeycomb was an unexpected delight, and the animals were most welcoming. Friendly falcons encouraged us on, “you’re almost there!" Ranger Chuckwalla in his striped uniform advised us to seek shade in the cleft of a rock. At the very top, Chubby the rock squirrel ultimately failed in his attempt to con us out of our snacks. Broad, expansive views absorbed us right into the Sonoran desert. A clatter of rock announced the next wave of seekers, and snapped us back into ourselves. The hike down was free and easy as we exchanged cheerful greetings with focused athletes, the excursion family, a giggle of teenagers, and the bucket list brigade. Yet now I’m being held hostage by muscles threatening “make a move, and you’re a dead woman.”

“But quads, you must move to Lost Dutchman State Park today!" Skillfully negotiating my release, I hoisted myself up to a vertical position. Able to amble, I held my breath as I made my 0.1 mph get-away.

The majestic setting of Lost Dutchman State Park was the perfect place to convalesce. I envied all of the other quads strolling the camp loops, and hiking the trails, but our campsite was pleasant with plenty of activity.

Two construction workers spent three days assembling a nest, flying in their materials, twig by twig. The Superstition Mountains changed disposition throughout the day, a little hazy and groggy against the early morning sun, which was understandable considering they were up all night partying with the coyotes. Someone must have called the cops on the noisy howlers because the sheriff’s helicopter was still hovering at daybreak. When the sun came rolling around to peek at the west side, I finally made the climb to the Flatiron (by binoculars). Each evening, we had a standing date on the golden hour with the cliffs, as one colorful costume gave way to the next.

Then came the time to say our goodbyes, and head on to new vistas. By the way, is there a reward for finding the Lost Dutchman? I’m sure I saw him heading west on McKellips Blvd. I got his license plate number just in case.

Friendly quail hurried us to our spot in Cave Creek. Evidently it was a group campsite, as we shared it with talkative ravens, maneuvering hawks, and a canyon wren posing for photos. Bats flitted in at dusk, and entertained us with spooky stories as we huddled around the campfire.

The Old West showed up at daybreak with horses and riders on distant trails, an abandoned mine that whispered its colorful history through glowing tunnels, and cacti studded vistas from the nearby hilltop. Nightly entertainment featured the original production Extravaganza of the Setting Sun, followed by Dancing Stars.

It was all over too soon, but our traditional end to every road trip is the planning and anticipation of the next one!

Third Place (tie): Stacey Padgett

Visiting Arizona State Parks has helped my family of six beat the pandemic blues. In 2020, we made a challenge to visit all Arizona State Parks. The parks offer a place for our family to be together outside enjoying nature all within our state.  

To kick off our challenge, our family hiked the Children’s Cave at Picacho Peak State Park. Next, we trekked to Lake Havasu State Park. Staying at the Quail cabin, we enjoyed the beaches, cactus garden, and lighthouses. My youngest remarked, “I wish I could pack this sand in my pocket.”  

My husband is an awesome rock skipper, so at Alamo Lake State Park, as we dipped our toes in the water, he showcased his skills skipping rocks. That night beside the Heron Hutch cabin, we had a blazing campfire complete with s’mores and shooting stars. My son remembers seeing three burros and skipping his first rock ever. 

At Oracle State Park, our whole family started the hike grumpy. The kids were bickering, but at some point, along the trail, the kids started galloping and singing. Everyone ended up sprinting the last 1/2 mile of the trail. We ended up having a great time and my daughter crowned herself the Wind Queen. Fresh air and hiking can do that. Your attitude and outlook changes just being outside enjoying nature. 

Climbing Flatiron at Lost Dutchman State Park is an annual tradition. This year my oldest kids joined my husband and I on this intense hike. After the hike when my son was asked if he found the Lost Dutchman’s gold mine, my son said, “The view from the top of Flatiron is better than gold!”  We arrived at Lost Dutchman State Park during an evening rainstorm. The Superstition Mountains were eerily hidden by clouds. Later that night, after the storm cleared, my daughter loved seeing the bright full moon through her bunk bed window at the Lupin Cabin.

Our family rented a pontoon boat at Patagonia Lake State Park. I loved feeling the wind in my hair, almost as much as the kids loved getting to pick whatever ice cream they wanted at the Lakeside Market. At nearby Sonoita Creek State Natural Area, we saw ocotillos and cows up close. At Tubac Presidio State Historic Park, the first fort and first European settlement in Arizona, the kids enjoyed their Junior Ranger scavenger hunt, while I loved the outdoor art exhibit. The volunteers at Tubac Presidio fueled my kids’ excitement with posters to track all the Arizona State Parks we visited. 

Our next stop was Buckskin Mountain State Park. My son enjoyed seeing the copper mines and playing at the swimming area. At River Island State Park, we rested on a bench at the top of the Wedge Hill Trail to enjoy a bird’s eye view of the park. My kids love sand. They were impressed that the sand on the beach at Cattail Cove State Park was deep enough to completely bury their legs standing up. The McKinney Loop was an amazing sandy hike along the cliffs of the Colorado River. 

Yuma was our next weekend adventure. We took a guided tour at Yuma Territorial Prison State Park and learned that the youngest prisoner was 13. At the Colorado River State Park, the kids learned about the many Colorado River dams and were surprised that the river putters out before reaching the Gulf of California. Next, we visited Catalina State Park. We hopped back and forth across the wash on the Canyon Loop Trail.  

Soon after, we stayed at the Lion Cabin at Roper Lake State Park. The kids liked the cattails behind the cabins. Three miles away, we visited Dankworth Pond State Park. We hiked the Dos Arroyos Trail to the replica Indian village. The hike at Granite Mountain Hotshots Memorial State Park was somber. We read about the lives of each of the 19 heroic firefighters who died in the 2013 Yarnell Hill fire. Along the way, the kids found small piles of snow and carried back melting snowballs in their jackets.  

Last weekend, we visited Tonto Natural Bridge State Park. We enjoyed rock scrambling on the newly reopened trails under the natural travertine bridge. Daffodils and ornamental plums were blooming, we spotted juvenile javelinas and the waterfall was flowing. We plan to finish visiting all of Arizona’s state parks, historic sites, and natural areas in 2021. Our family looks forward to many more picnics and hikes at our favorite Arizona State Parks.

Honorable Mentions

Toni L.

AZ Native here, born and raised. I call Superstition Mountains “my home.” I have driven the windy road to Lost Dutchman more times than I can count. I have hiked Siphon Draw trail a trillion times with it never getting old. 2020 was different, and not because my trillion and first time hiking it became old, but because my outlook shifted. I wasn’t just hiking it for exercise, I was hiking it to get away from the chaos and the chatter of the everyday pandemic. I shifted, I saw the beauty in every rock, tree, wildlife, view of the smoggy city I was thankful for not being a part of. I was grateful for the fresh air that I could breathe! The way I looked at that mountain every day changed...my meditation and escape is Lost Dutchman, always has been, but now I have gained a whole new appreciation. Love that I live only 20 min away from my favorite state park.

 

Gene and Darl Rector

Dead Horse Ranch State Park in Cottonwood, AZ has been a wonderful experience for us during the covid pandemic. We feel blessed to have this park 10 minutes from our home and go there nearly every day and walk around the fishing ponds meeting many of the same people safely. The staff and volunteers are wonderful to keep everything clean and tidy. People are very kind and encouraging to my husband, Gene, who can't walk fast.

It is great fun to watch someone catching a fish or teaching their children to fish but, best of all was watching a bald eagle catch a fish from one of the ponds.

Teresa Tallman

During the pandemic, as seniors, we isolated for months on end. Being with one individual, the fear of getting sick and pressure about whether to mask up or not…well, it took a tedious toll on us both. Although my husband and I agreed on our approach to staying safe, it was not easy being away from our friends, family and indoor restaurants. Trying to keep our spirits up, and provide a holy grail to look forward to every week, we instituted a ‘date night.’ Friday evenings, at six o’clock sharp, I made pizza and we watched a movie. Most importantly, we sat close and held hands. Although the ritual helped, it was a poor substitute for our normal life. 

Pre-pandemic we traveled every few months. Post-pandemic, for us, was a different story. Flying was out. We were even nervous about stopping the car to gas up. And using a public restroom…were the little critters lingering on the toilet seat? Thus began our search for a day trip. 

I love horses. I love their beauty and their gentle nature. Visiting a state park named Dead Horse Ranch seemed like a cruel joke... an Arizona joke. It boasted of trees and a lake. Now I’ve lived in Arizona for over 10 years and although there are lakes and forests, they aren’t like what we’re used to. Don’t get me wrong. Arizona landscape is exquisite. Like nowhere else in the world. The buttes and cliffs and mountains. Just amazing. But a lake? With trout? This I had to see. Dead Horse Ranch State Park is an hour and half north of us and we decided to give it a try. 

The entrance coming into the park was flat, and covered with typical Sonoran Desert brittle bush, velvet mesquite and barrel cactus. My initial thoughts were yep, I was right, those photos were a hook to get us into a stereotypical Arizona park of water surrounded by some cliffs and desert. Then I saw it. Luscious green burst against the azure sky. Trees. Not desert trees but cottonwoods and willow trees. Later I read it’s called a cottonwood-willow riparian forest, one of only 20 sites in the world. The small lakes are fed by the Verde River and home to largemouth bass, channel catfish, blue gill, crappie and rainbow trout. Deer, elk, coyote, fox lynx and even wolves call the 423-acre park home. 

We considered a trail ride, but even though a rental stable was listed on tourist information I was doubtful. Sometimes these facilities are so hidden we get lost, or we needed reservations, or it would be a defunct business. To my amazement, coming right into the park were the horses We stopped to see if they had any openings, and they did. We had a 20-minute wait, which was spent paying and signing. I explained that I needed a gentle animal and they had a perfect one for me, a beautiful palomino who was not skittish. Five of us took off around the lake. Besides the breeze and birds singing, I appreciated that we had a trail that was rock-less. You heard me. There were no rocks on the trail. This new experience meant I could relax and enjoy the ride without wondering if my horse were going to trip. The guides were informative and fun.

After the riding, we drove into the park to the main lake. Under the tree canopy families picnicked and played frisbee. Kids rode their bicycles. We found ourselves a table beneath the shade of a mammoth cotton wood and ate our sandwiches. Puffed, snow-white cloud reflections danced along the water. Frogs chirped. Small waves lapped the beach. Thirty yards away a young couple fished. It was perfect. 

We walked the trails, watched ducks and searched for minnows. Among the hundred plus camp sites we eyed tidy, rustic, gingerbread-brown cabins. They were clean, well kept and close to the bathrooms. That’s my kind of camping. 
Our day-cation was a respite in a time of uncertainty and monotony. We re-connected with nature and people. Life. We are grateful that Arizona has preserved such a unique riverside oasis of water, wildlife and phenomenal trees that revived our spirit.

Kelli Donley Williams

In March of 2020, like many Arizonans, I was told to pack my desk and head home to work. We didn’t know when we’d return, but we naively thought it would be only a matter of weeks. As the weeks stretched into months, average household items became scarce commodities, and leaving home to run any errand had an unfamiliar sense of danger, we realized this new way of life was not going away any time soon.

Our weekends also changed. We could no longer go out to eat, see a movie, go bowling—but we were desperate to get away from home. Home was where we now also worked, and where the kids went to school. Our house felt much smaller. Exploring new state parks was the perfect answer. We’d be safe, outside, and we could enjoy all the beauty and adventure of parks we hadn’t yet visited.
Lost Dutchman Park became a regular weekend jaunt. It isn’t far from our home, but we’d never taken the time before to explore the many trails. In spring, we marveled at the golden wildflowers climbing the gentle slopes leading to the towering Superstition Mountains. Hawks flew overhead. Ocotillo and palo verde blooms scattered across the desert floor by the occasional gust of wind. We noticed many plants we hadn’t stopped to see before, appreciating the riot of spring colors.

By summer, we’d found the trails we liked best, arriving early, appreciating how the desert adapts to overwhelming heat. Saguaros’ chalky white flowers opened only for a few days, but long enough for the bees and hummingbirds to enjoy their sweetness. The owls hooted and coyotes cried in the early morning hours, hunting before finding a shady place to hide for the remainder of the day. The snakes and other creepy crawlies hid when the sun was overhead, one of the perks of hiking during the summer in Arizona. Even when these hikes required hauling extra water, wearing more sunscreen, and being mindful not to push ourselves too far, we looked forward to the time together.

As our summer tans faded, as we pulled on sweatshirts and pants to hit the trails come winter. Campers with Wisconsin and Iowa license plates dotted the park, and verandas were once again spilling over with families enjoying meals, playing cards, laughing, and taking in the clean, cool air. We waved and said hello to each hiker and camper as we climbed again and again from the parking lot to the mountain’s many trails.

With a nod, we understood each other. We were members of a new club: the lucky ones, the survivors. We are among those who navigated this strange time of life by enjoying the great outdoors, and as such were reminded of simple joys we’d previously taken for granted. We newly appreciated parks, hiking, playing cards, observing the seasons, camping, and how food always tastes better eaten outside at a picnic table.

We will long be talking about this year and how it changed us, in many ways for the better.

Lukas O'Rourke

Midway through the pandemic, my sister moved away. We both moved separately to Phoenix to be close to our mother. After Natalie left, I sought out certain dormant desires in attempts to justify my residence. I hiked Camelback Mountain on one of those days when a limitless flurry of varied clouds is struck by the sunset like guitar chords are struck by a hand. I began to seek out more experiences that straddle the line between wild and civilized aspects of our nature and culture. As I knocked off various city summits, exploring at exhaustive, illuminating length the three South Mountain ranges and the scattershot Phoenix Mountains arrangement, Superstition Mountain always leered at me like Abiyoyo in the old South African folk tale. A mysterious, dangerous, illusive giant, the very existence of whom is up for debate, but who just might respond to the music in my soul.

My mother Rebecca has pushed herself on these trails as well, simultaneously following and guiding me. She was who suggested we stay at Lost Dutchman State Park in order to finally climb the Flatiron, a giant peninsula of cliffs at the very top of the northwest end of Superstition Mountain. We trained for what we expected to be one of the hardest hikes of our lives.

For moral and environmental reasons, my mom is now a vegan. Since neither of us have a portable stove (yet) she packed our cooler full of meals that could be eaten with little preparation and no cooking. Our first night, after a quick jaunt down Jacob's Crosscut Trail, we ate cannellini beans, arugula, and roasted red peppers with wheat pitas and hummus. I slept little to none, awash with a palpable excitement.

We made an early morning start on the Siphon Draw Trail, traipsing the rocky foothills between Lost Dutchman and the mountain. The cliffs loomed into view, pristine in part due to laws that ban bolting climbing equipment on them since the early 1990's. The Flatiron beckoned us with a ghostly crown of morning fog. Our path took us directly in between the biggest cliff walls and up into the main drainage of this side of Superstition Mountain, which is Siphon Draw. A number of large boulders mark the beginning of the canyon. Our approach hugged the sloping canyon as it narrowed on the Basin.

"You can hang tough and wait for me anytime," I told my mom, reaffirming an earlier agreement.

"I'm doing fine," she said and flashed her lovely smile.

Siphon Draw Basin is an otherworldly place that has many of the hallmarks of what makes the American Southwest's canyon country so alluring. Eroded reddish-orange slick rock walls adorned with centuries-thick desert varnish cradled our progress as we made our way to the rocky shelves we then had to climb. Massive hoodoo hives sat atop the mountain and cast vast networks of shade like monuments to mythology. There was one still pool of greenish water in the basin and as we reached the top of the shelves we were greeted by a grandiose arch in the rock to our left. We stopped and had a snack, then continued on our path.

I'm an antisocial extrovert. One of the things I love most about our engagement with nature is that we all come to it for our own reasons, but a global and passionate community exists to support all levels of hiking. Our stopping to breathe often coincided with quick conversations with passersby. The trail from Siphon Draw Basin to the Flatiron summit is technically a social trail that has been incorporated into official state park literature due to its popularity. The number of chats we had with strangers that day gave a new meaning to the name social trail.

The final challenge on this hike was a rock wall a dozen feet high that could not be circumnavigated and had to be climbed. About a decade ago, my mom injured her shoulder. We hashed over it for a while, but eventually I did the final segment solo, quickly returning with a few summit photos. The return trip down was methodical and we stopped often to take pictures. It seemed to me a riot of joy not only to know that place and myself that much more, but to share that experience with my mother in her own continuing evolution. I guarantee you my sleep was sound beneath the stars that night.

Rebecca O'Rourke

I haven't been camping or hiking for years, but this past year has pulled me outside. Hiking has become the way I clear my head, change my attitude, and wear myself out. Scrambling over rocks with my adult son, Luke, and looking for wildlife and flowering cactus makes me smile. One us calling out lizard or snake makes me feel like an intrepid explorer. Me, a 58 year old woman, whose favorite hobby is crafting has hiked the equivalent of 1/2 of the elevation of Mt. Everest since January.

Working on trails with handrails, rocky climbs, and working up to 9-10 mile hikes, my son and I set ourselves a goal. We planned to camp and hike two nights in Lost Dutchman State Park at the foot of the Superstition Mountains. Our ultimate goal was to hike the Flatiron via Siphon Draw trail, which is 5.5 miles and has a 2,641 ft. elevation gain. If you look up information about this hike it is described as difficult, rocky, and not for beginners. Exciting! Using my son's lucky number 13, we scheduled our dates April 13-15 and site 13. Lost Dutchman's campsites were comfortable and somewhat private at this time, because there is so much vegetation blooming and growing. Palo Verde and Mesquite trees provided some shady areas and the Goldeneye flowers and Prickly Pear blooms brought birds close to us. The spring weather had many bunnies hopping through our campsite and the nights brought us coyote concerts that included howls and yips. T

he first night a Long-tailed pocket mouse scratched on my tent, but I didn't care. I was sleeping in her living room, after all. I slept well both nights, but my son tossed and turned the first night in anticipation of our Flatiron adventure. He has been the most patient hiking guide. Researching ahead of time each of our treks to keep me safe and to keep us prepared. Granola, craisins, water, water, water and a first-aid kit are always in his backpack.

I had a stroke some years ago and as my guide, my son puts safety first. The morning of the big hike arrived and we could hardly contain our excitement. Over our coffee, my son went over the checklist one more time and encouraged me to eat enough calories. Backpacks packed, sunscreen applied and gloves in our pockets, we set off. "Lizard." "Chuckwalla." "Hedgehog flower." Our conversation keeps moving, laughing and aware of our surroundings. The rattlesnakes are out and about, so we both call out if we see movement. We did see a snake slither across the trail on our way down, but it was probably a Blackneck Garter.

After we climbed out of Siphon Draw, the scrambling begins. We put on our gloves and start climbing up. And, up. And, up. This trail gains 2,641 ft. of elevation. Sometimes it felt like we were climbing straight up. I didn't make it to Flatiron Butte. At the end of the trail there is a rock wall 10 feet high that has to be scaled to get to the butte. I tried. I couldn't get over because of an old shoulder injury (It's from a fall I had when I had my stroke). Was I disappointed? NO! As I stood on top of that mountain, I felt proud of myself. I wore out my gloves. I ripped up the seat of my pants. I had quite a few blisters on my feet, but as I looked over the valley I had climbed I felt like I had wings.

Hannah Siegel

Before COVID hit, I kind of took the traveling I did, especially with my family, for granted. Suddenly, I realized how busy I tried so hard to make myself by working all the time. I thought to myself, "There's so much more to explore in this world, why waste time trying to please other people when I can escape from reality for a bit and please myself?"

So one day, I asked my parents if they wanted to go with me. In 2020, I went to the Granite Mountain Hotshots Memorial State Park with my mom for her fall break, Red Rock State Park with my dad for his fall break, and Fort Verde Historic State Park for my birthday.

Whoever would have figured that someone as young as me would want to travel instead of go to a favorite restaurant or, in most cases, a bar for their 21st birthday? So far, this year, I've been to Buckskin Mountain State Park with my dad for his spring break and Tombstone with a very good friend of mine from AFJROTC. We're both, my friend and I, trying to get into the Air Force and we both LOVE to camp. We're already, only a day after visiting Tombstone, setting up a trip to Patagonia Lake State Park.

All this time, I didn't think I had friends who would be willing to travel and do fun things with me. Going to all of these different parks proved me very wrong there, the true friends I've made over the years are, in fact, willing to live life like I now am and have a good time clearing their heads and getting some fresh air. With my mom, we already made plans to go to Tubac Presidio State Park on one of her free days before Easter. My mom's trying to help me fulfill my goal of going to all the state and national parks. That goal was set when I started collecting the national park quarters, which I'm only missing one of.

I can't wait to see how many places I'll visit in my life.

Alex La Pierre

Arizona State Parks have been a breath of fresh air during the pandemic for our family, both in the literal and figurative sense. We have been enchanted by places like Tubac Presidio State Historic Park, Patagonia Lake State Park and the captivating views from Jerome State Historic Park, but we would like to share about a recent positive experience at Fort Verde State Historic Park. This experience underscores why the natural, historic and cultural sites protected by the State Park staff and system are such an enriching and positive resource for Arizona residents and visitors.

We were first drawn into the spirit of the place by the talented interpretation skills of Ranger Uribe at the front desk of the park and our visit continued through the museum with the absorbing details offered by its careful curation. Equipped with the understanding of the site from both the interpretation of park staff and the exhibits, we explored the officer’s row where the distinct scent of the creosote soaked lumber in the construction of the fort’s buildings transported us back to the late nineteenth century when the fort was active. This time travelling persisted further upon stepping inside the complex of buildings where the attention to detail in presenting various interiors of the era, including the military post’s doctor, provoked our imaginations of what life must have been like a century and a half before our time. 

Our takeaway from this fun experience is how visiting a State Historic Park can be a gateway for understanding the genesis of Arizona and who we are as Arizonans, via their conservation of the sites, public interpretation of the collisions of cultures and providing critical context to this state’s heritage. This is physically emblemized by Fort Verde’s cultural assets including the surviving buildings of officer’s row where the adobe earthen architecture of the Indigenous and Hispanic traditions is encased in an Anglo-American Victorian style, as testaments to this story. 

Aesthetically, the unique juxtaposition of this architecture against the impressive cream colored backdrop of the foothills lining the Verde River is an astounding sight to take in. It’s places like Fort Verde that evoke nostalgia of childhood field trips to similar sites and museums and how these visits were later the sources of lifelong interests and passions. Visiting new Arizona State Parks have emerged for us as a real antidote to overworking and increasing screen time as a result of the pandemic. These visits have also been beneficial because of their effect in inspiring curiosity to learn more about the diverse subjects presented at the sites and in cultivating an appreciation for the important role State Parks play in showcasing an understanding of Arizona, its nature and history. 

After staying at home for so long due to the global health crisis, the positive outdoors and museum experience of Fort Verde SHP visit was revitalizing in reigniting a realization of how special the state we are privileged to live in with its diversity of natural and cultural resources.

 

 

Back to top