The Bare-toed Vaquero: Life in Baja California's Desert Mountains

Photographs

• During dry times the desert landscape of Sierra de la Giganta differs little in appearance from its Sonoran counterpart across the Gulf, dominated mostly by small-leaved, deciduous trees and shrubs and tall, columnar cacti. But looks can be deceiving; the flora of the Baja California Peninsula, long isolated from mainland Mexico, has followed its own course of evolution. The Sierra de la Giganta today supports an extraordinary number of endemic plants—250 species found nowhere else in the world. In September 2006, after a year without rain, the torrents of Hurricane John awakened this dormant vegetation with a proliferation of growth truly worthy of its subtropical status. • The ranch name Agua Escondida translates as “hidden water.” Indeed, in a land that receives less than eight inches of rainfall annually (some years none at all), where the arroyos flow only a few days of the year, it is hard to imagine finding water anywhere. But the canyons of Sierra de la Giganta are dotted with hidden oases where springs deeply sourced in the mountains flow at a near constant rate throughout the year—and it is in these locations that the people of the Sierra have built their livelihoods and family histories. • Beneath the precipitous eastern face of Sierra de la Giganta sits the more than two-centuryold Rancho Tiombó. Here, soft-spoken Antonio Fuerte lives with his young wife Maria de los Angeles and their two children, caring for a menagerie of cows, goats, chickens, sheep, pigs, mules, and a remarkable garden of fruits and vegetables. • Raul de los Santos Martinez (“Bule”) typifies many of the older rancheros in the Sierra de la Giganta. Born near San Javier, he grew up tending goats for others and roamed widely throughout the mountains. He knows all the ranches in the Sierra and, as rumor has it, never missed a ranch fiesta. At age seventy, Bule still has a twinkle in his eye and continues to hire out as a wrangler. • Mules do the work that vehicles cannot. When emergency supplies were flown in to the Sierra by helicopter after Hurricane John, they had to be distributed to isolated ranches by mule or burro. An old hand at mule packing, Bule rides tirelessly and knows the Sierra better than most. • Santana Bastida Delgado also knows the mountains—and burros—well. At age eighteen she became a traveling nurse, hired and trained by the state to administer vaccinations and medications. Escorted by one of her brothers, Santana traveled by burro to remote ranches in the Sierra where she stayed for a week at a time while word of her availability spread to rancheros in outlying areas. Santana is now residing in San Javier where her father, who lived to age 105, was caretaker of the mission for more than fifty years. When we dropped in on her this day, she was stirring a large batch of biznaga dulce (barrel cactus jam), simmering over a wood fire. • Left: Animal husbandry forms the basis of the Sierran rural economy, but with undependable rainfall, maintaining livestock can be a challenge. Following a winter without rain, Juan Bautista Romero (“Tista”) at Rancho Viejo was compelled to supplement his cows’ scant forage with commercial feed—an expense that required selling some of his older goats for meat. Here, Tista’s wife Chari (Maria del Rosario) and her grandson are supervising feeding as the sun rises. Right: Lacking electricity on the ranches, milking is done by hand, and with practiced motion and strong forearms, Tista can fill a milk pail in minutes. The warm milk will be taken directly to the cocina (kitchen palapa) where it will lighten strong, boiled coffee and be mixed with goat milk for cheese making. • Goats have become the mainstay of rancheros in the Sierra, providing milk, meat, and hides. Easier to manage than cattle and better adapted to browsing in desert thornscrub, nearly all rancheros keep a small herd. Like most, Ruben de los Santos at Santa Isabel corrals his goats at night to protect them from predators and keep them from wandering too far afield. • Left: Goat tending in the Sierra often involves young boys who are able to manage the animals at an earlier age than would be possible with larger and sometimes unruly cattle. Here, five-year-old Ulyses, grandson of Tista and Chari, is learning...