During the latest government shut down, we find ourselves in Tucson. We had hoped to make this a national park trip, but many of our lesser known destination parks have been closed. So with a bit of apprehension we drive across town to Saguaro National Park.

The visitor center and its bathrooms are locked up tight, but the trails and the park road are open. I am actually a little nervous about heading too far from the visitors center. It is hot and desolate and as the signs make very clear, if you get in trouble….no one is coming to save you. Today we are on our own.

The trail that circles the visitor center has plenty of large Saguaro to look at. I alternate from looking at the giants up close, looking at the desert landscape in the distance and looking for rattlesnakes along the trail. Why does everything seem more ominous when you are the only ones present and there are lots of signs saying Beware?

The birds have made holes in the cacti, carving out nests near the top of the plant. The fuzzy cholla pop up every now and then…a new plant (for me at least) that looks like a torture penalty for getting off the approved walkway. I won’t risk it.

Though it is a pleasant autumn day, I am glad I have water. I can’t imagine being here in the summer sun. Deserts are not my happy place. I much prefer a dense forest with a lovely mountain stream. I question the sanity of the people who willingly hike here in summer.

Next we follow the road signs to a trail that leads to petroglyphs. I didn’t know that it would mean a few mile drive over a washboard dirt road. Yikes! It is really desolate out here. It is a good thing that I am a small town girl. As a teenager I could speed down a gravel road and create a dust storm in my wake. As a retired adult, all I can think about is how long it is going to take to wash our big orange truck.

At the trailhead, there is only one other car. No one is visible. I wonder where they could have gone? I survey the terrain. We will have to cross a field of rock debris, climb a large hill and hike around a bluff to find the petroglyph. Each rock pile looks like a rattlesnake hotel. They may as well put up welcome signs.

I tighten my boots and pull up my thick wool socks. If I get bit, I at least want to make it challenging. The walk is easier than it looks from the car. With no snakes or other hazards in site, I relax and take in the view from the top. We can see for miles. There is no sign of the other hiker(s). I hope they know what they are doing out there. I will stick to the trails today.

We came to see petroglyphs and there are hundreds crudely carved into the rocks. Many appear to be lines, wheels, sunbursts. I guess you can think of them as early landscapes. From this viewpoint, all you can see is the sun, a flat horizon, and thousands of saguaro. So a circle for the sun and some lines for the cactus and would be logical choices I guess. Think of them as ancient stick figures.

We head back to the truck. My head is full of wondering. Who made the carvings? What would it be like to ride a horse through all that scrub? What would it be like to get lost out there? How could you survive without shade or water?

Before I know it, we are back to the truck. Soon, I am zipping down the dirt road with the radio on. I am 16 again….in my head. My current self can’t bring myself to roll down the windows and let the wind blow through my hair. I don’t want to deal with the dust.

We stop at the intersection and take a picture of the park sign in the harsh afternoon sun just to prove we were here. What’s a road trip without a souvenir sign picture?