In Tucson: the Seven Falls hike

February 2, 2020

The thought for the day was to drive south to Sahuarita and bike from there up into Madera Canyon. It’s a beautiful ride, one we took three years ago. Thoughts change though after we check the forecast. It’s windy here today, and even windier down south. We’d be climbing up-canyon into a twenty five mph headwind, which has limited appeal after yesterday’s ride.

Instead, we opt for another hike. Both of the two Saguaro Park hikes were wonderful, and my crotchety knees seem willing and able this morning. I study the map, read reviews, and pick out a hike that begins in Sabrino Falls and follows Bear Creek up to Seven Falls. I’m puzzled by the name though - is it seven different falls, or a single fall with an odd name? Let’s just trek up there and see for ourselves.

It’s Sunday, the weather is gorgeous, and so we aren’t the only ones with hiking on our minds today. When we arrive at Sabrino Canyon (saving $8 by the way, from our Senior Pass - between here, Saguaro, and Death Valley, it’s probably saved us a hundred dollars on this tour) the huge parking lot is full and we’re directed to the overflow lot, another half mile away from the start of our hike. When we get there, it’s nearly full too.

We start walking south toward the start of our nine mile hike, a half mile or so away. It’s gorgeous, and the dense desert vegetation surrounding us is amazing.

The view back to the Santa Catalina Range, as we walk south from Sabrino Canyon’s overflow parking lot to the start of our hike. It doesn’t look like it here, but we’re part of a widely dispersed crowd. Hundreds of hikers are on the trails today.

Up close to the mountains, the vegetation is quite different than on the Saguaro hikes - lush, dense, diverse.

It’s a fairly long hike to Seven Falls, by my standards at least. We’ll cover an honest ten miles by the end of the day, which puts us above 25 for our three hikes in the last five days. It’s the most concentrated hiking I’ve done in several years, and I’m feeling really good about the fact that I feel up to it. A year ago, this would have been out of the question.

The hike itself is interesting, following Bear Creek up into its narrow canyon and crossing back and forth repeatedly. We’re lucky that we’re here after a dry spell, because there’s enough water in the system today to make me think we couldn’t do this hike if it were much higher.

It’s a gradual ascent most of the way, until it climbs up the south wall near the end in a series of switchbacks. Along the way, various folks give encouragement, tell us the falls are just around the bend, and claim the views are worth it.

On the trail. Most of the hike is on an easy walking trail like this, if you discount the seven or eight creek fordings and the final rocky climb to the falls.

We follow Bear Creek up its canyon for most of the hike, crossing and recrossing it. Along the way we touch base with this friendly family from Indiana three or four times. I like the gender stereotyping here: two women in an engaged conversation, three men staring into their lenses.

It’s a strikingly beautiful day today, with the streaked sky bordering the rugged range.

It’s not just the vegetation that is colorful here.

The course of the hike, up into Bear Canyon.

Lizard! Finally we’re on the board. YTD lizard count for 2020: 1.

This must be the youngest saguaro we’ve seen, barely six inches tall. Surrounded by desert moss.

A tiny fishhook cactus, again surrounded by a carpet of moss.

This quartz pebble is a half foot off the ground, trapped in a cage of thorns. Was it captured at ground level as the cactus grew up?

How is this even possible? It looks like this ten foot saguaro Springs straight from the rocks.

The rock formations grow more striking as we climb and approach them.

The last mile of the hike is a bit of a of a scramble in places.

I was here too. Hey, my outfit matches! Even my socks and hair!

Some of these fractured boulders that have fallen into the canyon are enormous.

They’re right. We round a bend in the canyon and suddenly we’re looking at a breathtaking view - a long stone chute, with Bear Creek cascading down through it in a series of seven cascades. Behind it is what I think is a Thimble Peak, the same formation we saw from the other side on the climb of Mount Lemmon yesterday. The scale is such that I can’t capture it all in a photo - it’s the first time in awhile I’ve missed my broken LX-10 and its wider angle lens.

Rounding a bend, Seven Falls suddenly comes into view and stuns you at first by its beauty. A huge, long structure, with a series of falls cascading down its chute. For a sense of scale, zoom in and notice the crowds standing at various levels.

The hike ends with a drop down to creek level again and one final stream crossing, ending at a broad, polished stone platform littered with hikers and their gear. There must be fifty or more folks in this large space, lying in the sun, wading in the pools, or just gazing around in wonder. It’s the kind of place that you could hike up to at the start of the day and just hang out for hours.

Not us though. We didn’t start early enough for that, and I’m not the fastest walker any more - particularly on a descent. We stay around for fifteen or minutes or so and then head back. By the time we finally make it back to the car we’re both tired (but especially me - we need to remember to pack ibuprofen) but very happy with the day and ourselves. Three fantastic hikes in five days, but this one was easily the best.

Sharing a mid-winter wilderness experience.

Three of the seven falls on the Bear Creek cascade.

There’s a crowd here, so it wasn’t easy to get a photo of just Rachael and the falls. This man looked up, saw he was in the frame, and kindly backed out for me. I left it in anyway, because I liked him there - it’s the young man from the Indiana family we kept encountering along the way.

On the way back, in a bit of a hurry to make our dinner reservation. I said there were about seven or eight Creek crossings, but that was just in one direction. Make that fifteen.

Don’t you just hate those trail runners, skipping from rock to rock as they race down the mountain? Nearly as annoying as the hikers with ghetto blasters drowning out the natural sounds. Why are they even out here?

The sky began clouding over by mid afternoon, giving a moody look at the Santa Rita Mountains to the south.

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