Oh, Sonoran Desert, how I love you. In the winter, at least when it is not hot, and the rattlesnakes remain asleep and dream of warmth.
Few things in this world thrill me more than a walk among the magnificent Saguaro souls as they rise tall and proud. They are the very symbols of the American West, yet they can only be found in this relatively small area.
The saguaros were the motivation for our second trip back before I decided to live again and push back against the ravages of a lifetime of bad choices that left me weakened by heart, kidney, stroke, and blood clot issues. When doctors told me a couple of years earlier I’d be lucky to live five to ten years, I realized I’d never seen a saguaro cactus. Plans were made, a trip designed, and the three of us ventured forth on what was to be a life-altering adventure. That was three years ago.
During our current Sonoran stay, we rise before dawn and are on the trails fifteen minutes before the sun climbs out of bed. This week that means tem…
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