My Trip to Patagonia Lake

DESERT VIEW by Layla Edwards
Tuesday May, 15, 2007

The heat has abated a little. It is down to 97 in the afternoons. So the nights have been cooler again. Plus the cloud cover, which held the big heat two days ago, has abated too. So we got 3 treats at once. It was only 97. Without cloud cover the coolers were effective, I didn’t sweat in house all afternoon. And it is huge treat to have cool night follow hot day. I woke up thinking “if only our whole summer were like this.” And I realized this is just what the summer is like in Patagonia, a teeny town, not far from Tucson which features a lake, which is why I have been there.

For a girl who spent every summer of her childhood at the start of the Fulton Chain of Lakes in the Adirondacks, I couldn’t believe they called Patagonia a lake when we finally arrived there. It was our 4th year in Tucson, I wanted to go to a lake. Bill got out a map, and found the closest one was Patagonia Lake. It was during monsoon season of summer. I remember the skies being filled with lightning on the whole drive home. The monsoons don’t arrive till 4 PM, so it must have been late morning when we left. It wasn’t far distance, and Bill found a route which was pretty. I think instead of the huge highway, we went on Old Spanish Trail, which must have been the road before the huge expressway was built. You pass a lot of desert, I bet most of that is filled in with housing developments now. And then it must become higher up because the landscape changes, the desert becomes more meadowier, and prettier to eyes who have just seen desert for long time. It must have seemed enchanting to me because I thought “I wouldn’t mind living here.” Then we hit the town we had seen on the map, I forget its name, maybe Sonoita, and to my astonishment, it was a convenience store and that was it. That was the whole town. We stopped and I went in and got a sandwich and a big soda.

Of course it wasn’t a regular convenience store, like one on every block in Tucson. When it serves a whole hub like that, it has to have everything everyone wants. It had home-made hero sandwiches, it had big video section, it had a lot. And it was busy. We had traveled thru horse country and wine country to reach it. We didn’t pass any houses but I guess it was all ranches.

Then after that the mountain range to the East changed. It was a different mountain range and a very pretty one. You felt like you had seen it before in every cowboy movie you ever watched. And then there was a little town, a bona fide town, stretched out along the route. Not that long but long enough. I think there was even an Italian restaurant. And whole stretched-out town faced directly out at those beautiful mountains, in the most beautiful spot of the mountains. It took my breath away.

It was exactly what I had pictured looking out at, when I saw all those cowboy movies. The town facing those mountains like that, was exactly how I had pictured living out West to be. Here was the whole dream of living out West, the beauty I had pictured. At first I just assumed every cowboy movie ever made must have been made here. Else why was this view so familiar, so dear, so epitomizing for me, and exactly what I wanted. Why else would I feel I have always known this and now I have found it -- here it is in the life, far more beautiful than I even pictured, but perfect in every detail.

The odd thing tho is now that I have been in Tucson 10 years longer, since we drove past that little town of Patagonia (that was its name) facing right into those beautiful mountains, I don’t know if any cowboy movies were made there. Because it turns out the studio where all the cowboy movies were made is in Tucson. I have never been to Old Tucson Studios like everyone else has, but just outside of Tucson, right on our very own desert, is the huge tract of land, of desert, where all the cowboy movies were made. And even “Shane” came on tv few months ago, that is one I saw in movie theater in full color as kid, where the beauty of the West was fully pictured, that wasn’t made in Arizona, that is Colorado beauty. So the deep perfection and satisfaction of the beauty I gazed out at, as we passed Patagonia, “I found it! I found it! this is what I always wanted, this is where I want to live,” didn’t come from any movie. I concentrated very hard as we passed the town, to see what the town had, because I knew one day I wanted to move there.

And right after we passed the town (town wasn’t long, maybe a mile or two miles, if that, a mile sounds right, maybe 50 establishments all told) for some reason it seemed to turn marshy or watery to the right. Where that water came from I have no idea (there is no water on the desert). Right after that, you enter what looks like a State Park parking lot. This is really a riot. Because there are huge State Park roads leading into it, as if you are arriving at Jones Beach on Long Island. Vast roads with major State Park signs about Patagonia Lake. And a whole set-up to pay or show your pass, with men and women in Forest Service uniform in booths. You think where you are arriving is such a big deal, and I assumed it would be. And then you arrive at the lake, and you think “they call this a lake!” For anyone who comes from a world where there is water, it seems like such a joke to have traveled all this distance. Any one of their 3 well-maintained parking lots was far bigger than this "lake". I guess the lake is bigger than my back yard, but not by much.

I found out later it is a man-made lake, and you can excuse me if I scoff at man-made lakes. I know it is a big deal here on the desert, and I once was on a forum where a guy proudly told me his dad helped build Patagonia Lake. Of course they pretend it is a real lake. They had paddle boats for rent, maybe even canoes. And ropes for swimming area. And it was filled with families, and there were places to cook-out around the lake. It had one nice feature, which was there were no rules.

My memory of lakes with lifeguards in lifeguard stands, is the rules. They don’t let you swim past the ropes for swimming area. In Old Forge we had to wait till 6 PM when lifeguard left, to swim across the lake to shore on other side. But of course that was a real swim, thru deep water, a mile long. And don’t forget the huge Old Forge lake, it circled all the way around, it was a mile across at the edge where we sat and played and where the lifeguard was, and ropes for swimming, but after the dock, it continued on for big distance, and then led out into a Channel, which eventually took you to First Lake, and all the lakes in the Fulton Chain of Lakes. The Old Forge lake wasn’t even called a lake, it was officially designated a pond, because all the other lakes are vast. But compared to Patagonia Lake, the Old Forge Pond is vast.

Because there were no restrictions on where you were allowed to swim-- why would there be, the water never went above your head-- Bill and I swam across the lake and sat on the rocks there and watched the birds. Since no one else was there, I took off my suit in the water and I treaded water, while Bill sat on rock, and we chatted, and watched all the birds overhead. There were a lot. I guess because of the lake, they wanted water.

Then I put my suit back on underwater, and we swam back to the swimming area, where I chatted with a teen-age girl. She told me she lives in Sierra Vista. I have the impression most there were from Sierra Vista, it is very close to Sierra Vista. They have to come here to swim, Sierra Vista has no pools. It wasn’t that they have no pool at all, but something very odd. Like only one pool and it is never open (she explained to me). It was the first time I realized that Tucson’s abundance of municipal pools, is not a given everywhere else, in every other city on desert. We are fortunate and blessed to have what we have. Can you imagine having to drive to Patagonia Lake each time you wanted to swim.

Also the water was stagnant. At first I was glad to be back in a lake, and not a municipal swimming pool, where water has texture and you can smell that you are in a lake. But the texture was off, way too cloudy, and even the smell was off. It was the strong smell of stagnant water, rather than the lovely smell of fresh sweet water. But what the heck! It was a Sunday. Everyone was having a great time in the lake and around the lake. I was allowed to swim across it, and took my suit off. Everyone seemed very happy there, and there weren’t any rules. There were cookouts on the "beach".

I am surprised now at the full amount of freedom. People even had their dogs with them. I am stunned at all the freedom, because contrary to my expectations as a New Yorker, the West has no freedom. There are huge vast wild mountain ranges all around Tucson, completely wild and empty, and filled with wild animals. But either the sign says “dog must be kept on leash at all times” or “no dogs allowed.” Of course this is some insane rule, because supposedly there are wild mountain sheep at the top, and supposedly dogs have bothered them. But that is enough for Tucson, or Forest Service, whoever makes the rules, to make rule to take away your freedom. After living out West for 15 years I will now say the only place which has any freedom is New York City. Every other place has a rule about everything or at least Tucson does. Which is what made Patagonia Lake wonderful, there were zero rules, and everyone had a wonderful time there. It was perfectly happy atmosphere. Not much of a lake, but a happy place.

When it was time to leave I saw the lightning start off the mountains, so my Higher Self suggested we take a different route home, away from the storm. The threatened storm never did arrive but it sure looked like it would.

This route was not pretty. It was pretty finding it. We had to drive down to Nogales. This was a lot of fun, because you drive down all the mountain curving roads to reach Nogales. And because of my summers in Adirondacks, I am addicted to curving mountain roads. Also I am addicted to hills which you never see on desert. I loved driving down all the hilly curving mountain roads with houses on either side. All kinds of houses, not development houses, Nogales must be an old town. Nogales is the city which is on the border of Mexico, so the houses were Mexican styled, which made them so pretty, and each one was different. It was fun to see. And set in (am I hallucinating this) woods and trees. Maybe we drove down the foothills of some mountain range.

Then we got on I-10 which is a 10 lane expressway, and I don’t remember anything about that drive back, except hoping it would be over already. And then we entered the city limits of Tucson, and Tucson seemed very cityish after being out in the country. And that was the whole trip. I assumed it was the beginning of taking trips, but it turned out to be the first and last one I ever took. And now I have even forgotten about the idea of taking trips.....