The Arizona saguaro

Last night, my dotter reported that it was late autumn in her part of Alaska. Here in Prescott, the tang of autumn is just beginning to overtake the heat of summer. Once it cools down further, I'll probably think again about visiting the deserts to the south and west. All of which, in turn, brings to mind Arizona's official symbol, the giant saguaro cactus.

Look closely. This is the forest primeval -- Arizona style. Which is to say, a "forest" of saguaro climbing up the mountain slope. Comparatively young plants at that; though tall, few of the cacti feature arms, unlike the big guys below. And I mean BIG: the trunks grow to be 40-50 ft. tall.

The lore has it that you won't find saguaros above 3000 ft. elevation; too cold ... they can be killed by a deep frost. However, the LH and I found saguaros prospering at 4000 ft. elevation on a protected slope on Sadie's Peak near Yava way west of town. Heading south on I-17, the first saguaros appear on the south side of a mesa as the highway begins its descent toward Black Canyon City.

If you're like me, you prefer your deserts like your forests -- reasonably quiet, with a minimum of tourists. For example, heading toward Phoenix, but driving the old Black Canyon Highway through Bumblebee and Cordes. It's dirt all the way, bumpy most of the way -- but takes you into a different world than nearby I-17. My own favorite, as I've noted in the past, is to go to the west on either the Hillside Road or the Bagdad Road.
That's where I found these two fine old specimens growing along the Santa Maria River.

Not all saguaros are desert majesties, as this picture demonstrates. Those strange-looking growths at the ends of the arms are actually flower buds.

Here's a closer look at the flower buds -- and the actual blossoms (those pictures below are courtesy of the Arizona state government site). The flowers are followed by large, juicy red fruit which are a delicacy for native desert dwellers.




The architecture of the saguaro allows it to expand or contract like an accordion, depending upon how much water is available. The pulpy center is encircled by strong wooden ribs. There are some great examples of saguaro bones at the Dead Things store down in Yarnell, if it is still in business. (Or you can click here, to see pictures I took two years ago.)

Like old oaks and other trees, saguaros may grow gnarled as they survive accidents, nesting birds, the weather and the years.

Woodpeckers are the first birds to peck out a cavity in a saguaro, which, in turn secretes a surface that hardens and protects the trunk from rot and disease. The result (below) is called a saguaro shoe, which provides a nesting spot for several species of birds. That, by the way, is my own saguaro shoe given me by a neighbor.

The ubiquitous prickly pear

The dominant cactus at medium-level to high desert locales, at least here in central Arizona, the Englemann prickly pear greens these hillsides in the desert counry between I-17 and Crown King up in the Bradshaws. They grow here in Prescott, too, though not in such numbers. In fact, I have read that certain opuntia, which are frost tolerant, are found in almost every state in the USA and as far north as mid-British Columbia. Imagine: the prickly pear is considered an endangered species in New York state (Aussies, take note.).

Take a close look at that spiny pad. It should be easy to handle a pad just by avoiding the those long mean spikes, right? Wrong! Almost any place your fingers might land, they will pick up nasty little hairlike glochids that easily penetrate the skin. I keep a set of kitchen tongs among my gardening tools just for handling prickly pear and other cactus.

And yet local critters do munch out on thr nopals (pads). Probably iron-stomached javelina. However, what better way to introduce prickly pear as a popular foodstuff, at least in Mexico, Central and South America as well as parts of the southwest.

Above, you can see the first apperance of new little pads (nopalitos). These are eaten as a vegetable and you will find them sold fresh or canned in Mexican food marts. The pads have grow a bit on the plant below.

Prickly pear fruit are also a staple in indigeneous diets. Obviously, it takes a flower to make a fruit. The flower buds (above) site atop the plant part that will eventually become the fruit or tuna. This year, my little prickly pear plant blossomed nicely (below).

Flowers on our everyday prickly pear will differ. Most of the blossoms in my neighborhood are bright yellow, though elsewhere, the flowers may be of a peach color.


Above, spent blossoms; below, green tunas. Note that the tunas also feature a good supply of spikes.

Here, a good ripe crop just up the street from my house. Personally, I have found the taste of prickly pear tunas to be rather insipid and too sweet the few times I have tried to make popular concoctions. However, once they tasted terrific: my LH and I had foolishly climbed Thumb Butte on a hot day without carrying water. Up near the top, we came across a plant with many fruit; fortunately, the LH had two pocket knives. With one, he impaled a tuna; with the other, he peeled it carefully to avoid spines and glochids. The juice was remarkably refreshing on that occasion.

The other prickly pear that grows wild near (but not in) Prescott is the beaver tail. This cactus lacks the long spines; the flowers are a brilliant fuschia. According to Wikipedia, there are over 200 species of prickly pear in the western hemisphere; there were several exotics over at Watters (below) when I visited the other day.

Cactus in our desert

We're lucky, here in Prescott, to have our own lonesome and reasonably private desert, free from encroaching highways or Phoenicians. Just get on Iron Springs and head west, toward Bagdad. Saturday, the dotter wanted a real Arizona sunshine fix; what could be better than a trip down to the Santa Maria River the day before her return to darkest Alaska. While she hiked, I looked for cacti. What I found:

Excellent, multi-branched saguaros, growing right near the river's edge. These are obviously very tall old trees, with even the limbs growing limbs! Note the evidence of our recent soaking rains -- the white fuzzy tops of the cactus below, preparing to blossom.

There were several types of opuntia within a short walk of the car. Your standard prickly pear above and its cousin, the beaver tail cactus below; the beaver tail has spectacular magenta blossoms. Did you know that the prickly pear is native to at least 45 of the 50 states and most Canadian provinces?

I'm not sure if these (above, below) are the same brand of cholla or near relatives. In any event, you do not want to tangle with one, though their blossoms, like most of our cactus, are beautiful in season. Cholla are also in the opuntia family.

More cholla. Unfortunately, those mean spikes are all that show up in the tangled mass of the little Christmas cactus, characterized by pencil thin branches and small, bright red fruit.

And yet another cholla. If you have heard the term, jumping cactus, meet one. Also known as teddy bear cactus, this is one plant to keep at a distance. Though they don't actually jump, those pretty joints quickly attach to anyone or thing that touches them and break off, the idea being to start a new teddy bear cactus elsewhere. In the southwest, one hears apocrophal tales of men who peed too close to such a cactus with a very painful aftermath.

This particular teddy bear cactus was collapsing, as the main stem died, shedding all those joints to start new plants.

The barrel cactus is a short, stout, unbranched plant. All but one of the barrels I saw yesterday was growing out from beneath a so-called nursery tree or shrub (below), which provides shelter from the hot, drying sun when a seed sprouts and the tiny cactus begins its slow growth.

The prickly pear (above) started in the shade beneath a nursery tree, spread and continues to spread. Seeing the barrels and optuntias 'neath trees and shrubs gave me the idea of inspecting the assorted palo verdes, mesquites and cat claws to see if I could find a young saguaro. I lucked out -- take a look at the adolescent cactus below. It is probably 30+ years old, by the way, which should give you some idea of the age of those saguaros at the beginning of this post.

Two discarded shoes

Among the flotsam (or is it jetsam?) I found along the Gulf shore on my epic journey to America's South was this single walking shoe, although that looks like it might be a small child's sneaker immediately above and to the left. Needless to say, I neither noticed nor investigated the little shoe. I can certainly understand the urge to kick off one's shoes to walk barefoot on a nice sandy beach -- river sandals are for waters that hide unpleasant surprises where you least expect them. Which still doesn't explain why only one of each.

Now this cast-off saguaro shoe (or boot) is a different matter entirely. I found it in my patch of ice plant several days ago, courtesy of a neighbor, a professional who periodically combs the desert (and the uplands) for archaeological sites. Explanation per the Colossal Cave web page: Gila Woodpeckers and Gilded Flickers hollow out holes in [saguaro] stems. These they use for a year and leave for lizards, insects, and other birds. To counteract what could be devastating moisture loss, the saguaro secretes a substance that hardens to form a callus lining the damaged area, creating a water barrier and a nice nest hole. Eventually, when the saguaro dies and the flesh decays away, what remains are the ribs and the saguaro "shoes" or "boots." My understanding is that the holes are especially popular nesting sites among cactus wrens. Needless to say, I'm pleased to have this cactus relic.