Anza-Borrego: A World Apart

as published Feb. 12, 2012

Anza-Borrego: A World Apart

            Every serious traveler has either been to or plans to see San Diego, but how many have even heard of the vast Anza-Borrego Desert State Park?

            Anza-Borrego lies-literally-just over the mountains from Southern California's gorgeous city-by-the-sea, but it might as well be on the other side of the Earth.

            At the heart of stunningly beautiful Anza-Borrego lies the small resort town of Borrego Springs, which is entirely surrounded by this second largest state park in the country.  Encompassing well over 600,000 acres of wildly varied terrain-including a number of distinct mountain ranges, desert valleys, dunes and remote wilderness areas-Anza-Borrego is a world unto itself; a place of many faces.

            I would not have known of it but for friend Betsy True's having visited there on outings with the San Diego Audubon's Society's yearly bird festival.

            On a visit to Arizona last week, a friend and I drove the 300 miles from Prescott to Borrego Springs to check the place out-see if it would be worth a longer stay. The verdict?

            Why did we wait so long to see this dramatically beautiful yet so little known part of our always-surprising U.S. of A.?

            Native Californians are thoroughly familiar with the state's basic geography-a vast, hot and dry desert that lies beyond a coastal mountain range from the numerous warm and more humid cities.

            Many of them also know that while these desert lands are inhospitable in summer, they are magnificent places to visit from late Fall till mid-Spring. Indeed, it seemed that many residences in Borrego Springs were winter vacation homes.

            The park's rich human and natural history are both captured in its unusual name-Anza, from Spanish explorer Juan Bautista de Anza, and Borrego, a Spanish word for the Big-Horn Sheep found in its rugged and remote mountains when they explored a new route to California in 1775-76.

            Today, the descendants of the peninsula big-horn sheep they saw on their long trek to the coast continue to hold out in these nearly impenetrable mountain ranges.

            One day when we hiked into a steep canyon not far from Borrego Springs, the first question other hikers asked was: "Did you see any big-horns?"

            Unfortunately, we did not, as the sheep, like other desert wildlife, are out and about on the mountains in early morning and late afternoon.

            That hike, one of the park's most popular, takes visitors into Borrego Palm Canyon, a quiet oasis where tall palm trees line a cool, shaded spring-fed stream. Places like this have to be experienced to be appreciated. I would say it was like a movie-set, but that would not do it justice.

            There are many such shady, palm-filled declivities in Anza-Borrego, but most are far less accessible.

            At times, trudging along in the boulder laden canyon leading to the Palm Canyon, I stopped to look around, taking in the high, rocky mountain flanks on both sides of the trail, hoping for a glimpse at one of those elusive mountain sheep. How, I marveled, could any animal navigate those treacherous rocks and ledges?

            On the trek in, we hiked with Ruth and Hal, visiting from California's Orange County near Los Angeles. I joked that these native Hoosiers were doing pretty well for youngsters. "Yep," said Ruth, "I'm only 78 and my cousin here is just 86."

            "I hope to meet you on this trail many years from now," I said.