Kofa and Imperial: A contrast in wildlife refuges

Saguaro in the Kofa National Wildlife Refuge

For a place as flat as Yuma, the ruddy, jagged mountains formed much of the northern horizon. Jon’s friend Bill, a retiree from Seattle, joined us on the desert jaunt. On a Saturday, campers beat steadily southbound on U.S. Route 95. For an hour north of Yuma, the column continued almost unbroken. Headed north, we faced milder traffic.
First stop was the Tiny Church, a little landmark built by a Yuma landowner. Rose bushes loomed large around the entrance to the church. With room for 12 on six pews, it lives up to its billing. Bill kindly posed as the minister as the winds whipped the church door shut.

While there are no National Park Service units close to Yuma, a spectacular complex of desert ecosystem north of the city falls into the borders of two national wildlife refuges (Imperial and Kofa). In their reaches lie craggy inclines, wetlands, volcanic plains, mining ghost towns and the only place palm trees grow naturally in Arizona. The rugged Kofa and Castle Dome mountains occupy much of the refuge. Without a major water source, waterholes draw migrating birds.

At first sound, the name Kofa sounds indicative of an Indian dialect or tribe. But it’s every bit as corporate as Imperial. Kofa simply abbreviates King of Arizona, the mining company that once owned the tract now under federal control. Protection arrived in 1939, when the Boy Scouts lobbied for a refuge to preserve populations of bighorn sheep in Arizona’s mountains.

We ventured briefly down a narrow, rocky path into the heart of the refuge. Jon recently outfitted his Jeep with all sorts of equipment for drives on old mining roads and pioneer paths. Removed from the influence of the Colorado, the Kofa presented the Sonoran Desert in its untouched glory.  Jon took a winding jeep path, leading to a small plain below several intimidating ridges. In the back seat, I had to shift my position depending n the angle of the road.

We stopped and surveyed the desert plain, where silence enveloped the three of us. The highway noise diminished to nothing. Ocotillo arms flailed in the slightest breeze. The climate provided enough moisture for the ocotillo to sprout green succulent leaves to mask the spiny cores of their branches. In the sky above the refuge floated an aerostat, a dirigible monitoring weather conditions or unauthorized attempts to fly across the international border. Tethered to the ground, the silver ship felt only somewhat misplaced.

Here the elevation increased enough for saguaro to begin to flourish, the spears gaining arms. Prickly pears and ocotillo sprouted everywhere across the volcanic rock. Castle Dome rose nearby. Its peak resembled a citadel and was visible clearly from Yuma.

We didn’t visit the refuge’s most visited spot, Palm Canyon, where the palm trees grow in a narrow canyon. Nor did we reach the old mining town off Kofa’s unpaved roads. Dividing our time between two refuges meant no time for the restored mining town.

Across U.S. 95, a very different wildlife refuge emerged from the desert. The Imperial Wildlife Refuge protects a large chunk of the Lower Colorado, important bird habitat that has been reduced after dams and canals have wiped out much of the native cottonwood forests that once lined the river. As far as wild stretches of the Lower Colorado still exist, you can find it in the Imperial refuge.

Painted Desert Trail

If it feels like I’m being overly environmental and harping on the dams and diversions, keep in mind those initiatives caused major changes to the desert ecosystem. I’m not intending to preach, but the change that Americans have levied on the Lower Colorado is staggering. I enjoy fresh lemons and broccoli in the winter. At times, seeing the river’s reduced flow is a lot for a newcomer to absorb. But I digress.

Off the paved road again, a series of stony hills undulated on their way to the river. The Imperial refuge never lets anyone forget in lies in the Sonoran Desert - dry, brittle vegetation and the occasional cacti thrive away from the river.

In the heat of the day we took the Painted Desert Trail, a moderate 1.3-mile path across hills of vibrant palettes of volcanic rock, desiccated forests and evidence of burro visits. When the path strayed into an arroyo, we momentarily lost our trail – side trails ended at bluffs, and eventually we descended to the low ground. Risk of flooding was low on this cloudless blue afternoon.

One turn away from the Imperial refuge, Fishers Landing presented an even bigger oddity, a resort community with a boat launch in the middle of the desert. It sits on Martinez Lake, separated from the Colorado by a narrow finger of land.

Painted Desert Trail, Imperial NWR

Despite drinking ample amounts of water, hunger afflicted us all after the hike. For the middle of nowhere, we didn’t have to travel far to fill our stomachs. The Rio Loco Bar and Grill had excellent pub grub, where an iced tea and a green chili cheeseburger quenched every desert longing. None of us expected quality food in the middle of nowhere, but the Rio Loco obliged us.

We would not be done with eating that day. Jon planned a dinner party, serving up beef short ribs and fresh asparagus. He nailed the recipe.

The last day was mostly low-key. We didn’t have to venture far and spent time wandering around Old Town. The early 20th century commercial block that could use more businesses but it represents a strong foundation for Yuma entrepreneurs. Lutes Casino packed them in. If not for the lunchtime crowd, I would have ordered a date shake, a seasonal specialty in southwest Arizona and southern California.

Yuma's first craft brewery

Prison Hill Brewing Company deserves to stay on the map. Along with a good burger, I drank their tart cherry saison and Belgian-style tripel, both excellent brews. As the city's first craft brewery, Prison Hill is a necessary stop for beer aficionados would find themselves close to Yuma.

A little arcade of 10 businesses shared a space in Old Town. From the toy store loaded with Star Wars and Star Trek memorabilia to the chocolatier who handed out chocolate bar business cards with each purchase (mine didn’t last the day), it was a busy place.

A used bookstore at the end of the block had a few gems – I walked away with a John Cheever short story collection (not a letter collection, Seinfeld fans). We also loitered at Barnes & Noble. I could not remember the last time I wandered a big-box bookstore.

 I just relished the chance at one more Arizona sunset ripening into a rainbow of colors before rapidly falling into night, capped by another good home-cooked meal and hours of conversation over wine. When I crossed the bridge back into California on Monday morning, the sun still shone brightly upon Yuma.

A last view of Castle Dome from the Kofa NWR