Exploring the Growlers

The desert is huge and trying to figure out how to get water to people crossing it is the subject of endless speculation and conjecture. In the summer I was part of a crew that placed a 5-mile water line across the Growler valley in the hope that people crossing would find it in a vast flat expanse with no clear trails.

On the eastern edge of the valley, the Growler Mountains, named after miner John Growler, stretch from Bates Well on Organ Pipe National Monument in the South up through Cabeza Prieta National Wildlife Refuge to the Barry M. Goldwater Bombing Range in the North. Their multiple peaks and ridge-lines tower more than 1,000 feet over the desert floor and their southern foothills are a mass of deep washes, jutting fingers and small hills. Crossing through one of the many saddles along the range, the Growlers hold something of a surprise, instead of dropping down as sharply as they rise up, they flatten out to a wide plateau with gently sloping valleys interspersed with secondary ridges and hilltops. Beautiful as they are, the Growler’s upper valleys are deadly. Having made it up the steep climb from the South the need for water and food can quickly become desperate.

The Arizona GIS for Deceased Migrants shows more deaths in the Growlers than anywhere else in the deserts around Ajo. Accordingly, over the past week it has been our mission to explore the Growlers, looking for trails and identifying trail intersections and resting places where humanitarian aid supplies are most likely to reach people in need.

The exploration has generally been a success, we have found well-used trails and resting places. However, like all good explorations, in addition to providing answers, it has thrown up new questions. Some are practical - How are people getting to a seemingly inaccessible resting place? Which direction do they travel after they exit the plateau? Is there a trail along the ridge-line connecting the plateau valleys? Others are thornier and more emotionally challenging. On 2 of our 5 hikes in the Growlers we have found skeletal remains, for me the most challenging is balancing my emotional and practical response this occurrence.

For me, skeletal remains do not provoke the same sensory reaction as more recent deaths. There is not the over-powering smell that clings to your nose, your clothes, your boots long after you leave the site. There is not the same tactile response of touching flesh or the same visual response of seeing a full person.

What is similar is the profound sense of silence and aloneness, of trying to connect to the feeling of the person as they waited for the inevitable, the feelings of those they were possibly with and the worry of their families and friends who have no idea what happened to them.

When we find a person, I try to sit and look around, to visualize what they might have seen. I hope that as they let go of the struggle against the physical violence of dehydration, heat or cold and the mental anguish of realizing they could not go on, they found peace in the beauty of the mountains and slid gently into being a part of the soul of the desert.

After a few moments the call to action rushes back over me, the desire to do everything I can to help ensure that the person might be identified. To identify the person can give them back their person-hood and return them to their community; comfort their fellow travelers that, even though they may have had to go on, someone cares enough to follow their footsteps and find their companion; and give closure to loved ones left back in their country of origin. I have less purely altruistic responses too, it makes me feel useful, like I am making some small contribution to alleviate the suffering of one family, one group, one traveler.

All these responses draw me back to keep on exploring in the Growlers. We will unlock their secrets, find their lost and share their stories.