I picked up my latest issue of Sunset magazine and read this article about the Sky Islands we see every day from our home. I learned several things from the article... first that the Sky Island chain running from Arizona and New Mexico down into Sonora, Mexico is called the Madrean Archipelago and is among the largest grouping of sky islands on earth. Second is the biological diversity, in both plants and animals found in the Madrean Archipelago. So much to explore!
It’s the most romantic name in the world for a mountain: sky island. The two words conjure up a magical, lofty kingdom from Avatar or your favorite children’s book, and though they’re surrounded by land and not water, they possess all the island essentials. They are separate. They follow their own rules. And they are hard to get to.
Rising from sparse grasslands or deserts, sky islands aren’t hard to define. They’re isolated peaks, shooting up out of the flatlands like the first stalks of corn in a summer garden. And they rise in more than one corner of the American West: from volcanic Mt. Rainier in Washington to Mt. Lassen in California to Nevada’s Mt. Charleston, part of Spring Mountains National Recreation Area. Perhaps the least-known natural wonders, these heights are beautiful, unique, and life-sustaining for thousands of plants and animals. Naturalist Weldon Heald coined the term in his 1967 book Sky Island, writing romantically about his beloved Chiracahua Mountains in Arizona. The designation proved so poetically apt that it was later given to an entire group of isolated ranges that extends from Arizona and New Mexico deep into Sonora, Mexico. That broken chain—55 mountains in all—is called the Madrean Archipelago, and it’s among the largest grouping of sky islands on earth.
Serving as bridges between the Rocky Mountains and Mexico’s Sierra Madre, and between the Sonoran and Chihuahuan deserts, the Madreans are “one of the most biologically diverse places in the contiguous United States,” says Louise Misztal, executive director of the Sky Island Alliance, a Tucson-based organization that works to protect and restore the biodiversity of the region. “Half of the bird species in North America can be found here at some point during the year. There are a dozen different species of hummingbirds. And so many different bees.”
Part of the allure of a Southwestern sky island is the element of surprise. As I drive across southern Arizona on I-10, they loom in the distance, ridged and wrinkled, denim blue or coffee brown depending on the light, and seemingly not that distinct from the desert around me. I pull off the interstate in Tucson and take the Sky Island Scenic Byway (aka the Catalina Highway) toward Mt. Lemmon, the highest point in the Santa Catalinas. At the base lies the saguaro-and-brittlebush landscape of the Sonoran Desert. But as the highway twists and climbs, the world transforms. It grows greener and cooler, the saguaros replaced by cottonwoods and oaks, then, near the summit, by stands of ponderosa pine. The 27 miles take me up 6,000 feet through four distinct life zones—desert, grasslands, woodlands, and forest. I may as well have driven from Mexico to Canada.
Once at Lemmon’s summit, I step out of the car, pull on a fleece jacket, and gape. Spreading far below is what looks to be the entire Southwest. Arizona is not short on scenic wonders—there’s that big canyon in the state’s northwest corner, for example. But no place has given me a greater sense of infinity.
Sky islands aren’t just for birds and gawking motorists. Beyond the winged creatures that make homes here in the Madrean Archipelago are four species of cat. Two are common: the mountain lion and the bobcat. A third, the ocelot, is rare. The fourth, the jaguar, is extremely scarce and serves as a potent symbol of the Madrean’s ecological importance. Jaguars might call to mind images of tropical rain forests, but the northern limit of their reach actually includes parts of Arizona and New Mexico. They’ve long been considered endangered in the United States. Now, to the excitement of wildlife biologists like Sergio Avila of Sierra Club Outdoors—who has studied sky islands for the past 15 years—they seem to be making a tentative comeback. “For the last two decades, we’ve had at least one jaguar sighting in the Madrean sky islands every year,” he says. “It’s where black bears and jaguars meet. Nature is a series of collected elements. And the Sky Islands are so rich because they have so many different elements.”
https://www.sunset.com/travel/outdoor-adventure/sky-island
Where to Embark on a Sky Island Adventure
All mountains inspire daydreams, but none more powerfully than these
It’s the most romantic name in the world for a mountain: sky island. The two words conjure up a magical, lofty kingdom from Avatar or your favorite children’s book, and though they’re surrounded by land and not water, they possess all the island essentials. They are separate. They follow their own rules. And they are hard to get to.
Rising from sparse grasslands or deserts, sky islands aren’t hard to define. They’re isolated peaks, shooting up out of the flatlands like the first stalks of corn in a summer garden. And they rise in more than one corner of the American West: from volcanic Mt. Rainier in Washington to Mt. Lassen in California to Nevada’s Mt. Charleston, part of Spring Mountains National Recreation Area. Perhaps the least-known natural wonders, these heights are beautiful, unique, and life-sustaining for thousands of plants and animals. Naturalist Weldon Heald coined the term in his 1967 book Sky Island, writing romantically about his beloved Chiracahua Mountains in Arizona. The designation proved so poetically apt that it was later given to an entire group of isolated ranges that extends from Arizona and New Mexico deep into Sonora, Mexico. That broken chain—55 mountains in all—is called the Madrean Archipelago, and it’s among the largest grouping of sky islands on earth.
Serving as bridges between the Rocky Mountains and Mexico’s Sierra Madre, and between the Sonoran and Chihuahuan deserts, the Madreans are “one of the most biologically diverse places in the contiguous United States,” says Louise Misztal, executive director of the Sky Island Alliance, a Tucson-based organization that works to protect and restore the biodiversity of the region. “Half of the bird species in North America can be found here at some point during the year. There are a dozen different species of hummingbirds. And so many different bees.”
Part of the allure of a Southwestern sky island is the element of surprise. As I drive across southern Arizona on I-10, they loom in the distance, ridged and wrinkled, denim blue or coffee brown depending on the light, and seemingly not that distinct from the desert around me. I pull off the interstate in Tucson and take the Sky Island Scenic Byway (aka the Catalina Highway) toward Mt. Lemmon, the highest point in the Santa Catalinas. At the base lies the saguaro-and-brittlebush landscape of the Sonoran Desert. But as the highway twists and climbs, the world transforms. It grows greener and cooler, the saguaros replaced by cottonwoods and oaks, then, near the summit, by stands of ponderosa pine. The 27 miles take me up 6,000 feet through four distinct life zones—desert, grasslands, woodlands, and forest. I may as well have driven from Mexico to Canada.
Once at Lemmon’s summit, I step out of the car, pull on a fleece jacket, and gape. Spreading far below is what looks to be the entire Southwest. Arizona is not short on scenic wonders—there’s that big canyon in the state’s northwest corner, for example. But no place has given me a greater sense of infinity.
Sky islands aren’t just for birds and gawking motorists. Beyond the winged creatures that make homes here in the Madrean Archipelago are four species of cat. Two are common: the mountain lion and the bobcat. A third, the ocelot, is rare. The fourth, the jaguar, is extremely scarce and serves as a potent symbol of the Madrean’s ecological importance. Jaguars might call to mind images of tropical rain forests, but the northern limit of their reach actually includes parts of Arizona and New Mexico. They’ve long been considered endangered in the United States. Now, to the excitement of wildlife biologists like Sergio Avila of Sierra Club Outdoors—who has studied sky islands for the past 15 years—they seem to be making a tentative comeback. “For the last two decades, we’ve had at least one jaguar sighting in the Madrean sky islands every year,” he says. “It’s where black bears and jaguars meet. Nature is a series of collected elements. And the Sky Islands are so rich because they have so many different elements.”
https://www.sunset.com/travel/outdoor-adventure/sky-island
