Tanque Verde

It was with some apprehension that I agreed to spend my winter vacation at a dude ranch. I had not been on a horse for more than 30 years. It was summer camp, and one of the horses was named Mr. T, a memorable character on “The A-Team,” a popular network television show from the 1980s. As I recall, Mr. T did not live up to his reputation (and showed empathy to the person on his saddle).

I eschewed the recommended riding lesson and embarked on my first walk-and-ride with Gus, who, despite some indecision, expertly navigated the narrow trails of Tanque Verde, at the foot of the Rincon Mountains, in Tucson. Besides a few close encounters with the razor-sharp ocotillo and a decline that was too steep for my novice tastes, the ride was uneventful. My second horse, Cinch, was a snacker. Despite first my encouragement and then my admonitions, Cinch preferred some seemingly inedible plant to moving forward in orderly manner (and drawing the ire of countless riders behind me). Still, my ride was without incident. Blessed with more than a hundred capable horses, for riders of all ages, Tanque Verde Ranch seemed to have a horse for virtually everyone.

What does one do at a ranch for a week? One guest told me that at another ranch, two options existed: the four-hour ride or the eight-hour ride. In contrast, Tanque Verde offered fishing (in a nicely stocked pond), hiking, mountain biking, swimming, tennis, pickle ball, a nature center, and a cowboy cookout (replete with s’mores and Johnny Cash tunes), among other activities. Plus no televisions in the casitas, but Wi-Fi for those who do not want to (or cannot) disconnect. Add a good book, the stark beauty of the Sonoran desert, the warm December sun, the endless sea of saguaros, rising up to sixty feet above the desert floor, and Mount Lemmon to the north and more mountains immediately to the east and you have a perfect setting (pictured) to reflect on the year that is ending, to plan the next, and to, momentarily, ponder art of the possible.

One of the families at Tanque Verde Ranch had been coming to this desert oasis for the past fifty years. Others were traveling from across the country to meet at this one, special location, to reconnect, without the myriad distractions and competing obligations of daily life. This made sense. During times as fluid as these, stability and the familiar have its virtues. While the desert has its seasons, and the ranch, I am sure, has changed over time, enough has remained the same to assure the guest that there is some constancy in the universe.

While this vacation, like most, did not yield any epiphanies, some observations did rise to the top. The first involved the sparse beauty and insouciance of the desert. I had first visited Arizona more than twenty years ago, but, of course, a conference in Tempe is a far cry from a morning run in the foothills around Tucson, the sun rising over the Rincon Mountains and instantaneously warming the valley. With saguaros and other cacti as far as the eye can see, surrounded by imperturbable, but majestic, mountains, one can easily imagine Spanish explorers and Franciscan friars passing through or settling in the area hundreds of years ago and experiencing the same vistas (and unforgiving landscape). Likewise, and while any living organism changes, one can easily imagine future generations hiking the same trails and similarly enjoying the desert. Days will pass, and seasons will change, and despite our collective pleadings, exhortations and protests, but not without our responsible stewardship, the desert will likely be there, in much the form it is today.

The second observation is more general. One of the main benefits of traveling is to imagine living in a particular area. While it is impossible to escape the quotidian, the drop offs and pickups, traffic, the occasional flat tire, and the sundry imperfections and frustrations, one can imagine hiking on Saturday mornings with mountains in all directions, a deeper connection to nature, and a different (slower) pace of life. Perhaps it’s only human nature that the grass is always greener (except in the desert).

Comments welcomed.