A walk through town, Día de los Muertos at the Presidio, and a long back nine along the Santa Cruz River.
The sound around the corner
Annette and I were at the church in Tubac when we heard a donkey bray. Annette loves donkeys, so we set off to find it. A couple of blocks later, under a grove of cottonwoods, we found donkeys and goats in the shade. A woman in a broad cowboy hat came over to greet us. Somewhere between the adobe walls and that patch of shade, it clicked. Tubac reminded me of Baja.
In 2022 a friend and I rode dirt bikes from Yuma to Cabo San Lucas and back, unsupported. We carried twenty pounds of gear and covered 3,100 miles in three weeks. We rode through some of the most remote places I’d ever seen. The memory I carried into Tubac was as much about the settlements as the miles between them. Walking past the shops and adobe walls, I recognized the pace of an afternoon I’d known before.
After four nights at the resort, Annette and I moved into the Blacksmith House in town. It belongs to Chris and Shawna, our neighbors at Cobble Creek, who flew down to show us the place and spend time together as friends.
Chris’s family has long ties to Tubac. His father, John Crowley, is remembered in the town’s annual St. Patrick’s Day memorial parade. Staying at the house and spending time with Chris and Shawna gave us a more personal introduction to the place. We were getting to know Tubac through friends who had a history there.
The carts came into town
At the Presidio for Día de los Muertos, the Nogales High School marching band came through and golf carts rolled by dressed for the parade. I’d seen carts at the resort, of course. In town they carried people in hats and face paint. One of my favorite frames is of Shawna driving straight toward me, with Annette beside her. Our friends were part of the celebration, too.
At the Presidio, a dancer swung a red skirt edged in ribbons and lace. I’ve looked at Steve McCurry’s photographs for years, and for a moment I had the feeling I’d always imagined having on assignment. I was there to watch, and everything I wanted to catch was happening at once. Later, I photographed flowers set beside a portrait. That smaller scene brought me back to what people had gathered to remember.
A line drawn later
The Spanish established the Tubac Presidio in 1752. More than a century later, the Weekly Arizonian began publishing in Tubac. Another piece of that history stayed with me after the celebration. The Tohono O’odham Nation describes how the boundary drawn in 1854 divided its ancestral lands. Chris put it this way as he explained how far back the culture went in Tubac: “They didn’t cross the border, the border crossed them.” His words stayed with me.
Otero out, Rancho back
Tubac’s golf history reaches back well before Tin Cup. The resort took shape in 1959 with an investor group that included Bing Crosby, and Robert “Red” Lawrence designed the original course. Walking those tree-lined fairways, I could understand why people had been coming here for decades.
The course has been getting renewed attention, too. Otero’s greens were renovated in 2023, followed by Rancho’s in 2024, both with Dominator bentgrass. More recent work on the fairways focused on turf health and playability.
With the greens being rebuilt on Anza, we played Otero on the front and Rancho on the back. Otero gave me the kind of parkland golf I’d been looking forward to. I’m used to the open feel of Cobble Creek, an inland links course. Here, the trees framed the holes. Then we turned onto Rancho, where the course follows the Santa Cruz River through cottonwoods and mesquite. From the blue tees, the back nine stretched to 3,378 yards.
There’s a marker on Rancho’s fourth for the shot made famous by Tin Cup. It’s easy to play right past it. Farther along, we came to a 233-yard par three, followed by a 595-yard par five beside the railroad tracks. That one’s called Train Wreck. I took a picture of Annette in front of the sign. By the time we finished, I’d played some of my best golf. On a back nine that long, I was proud of it.
For me, the golf alone was worth the twelve-hour drive. The challenge, the trees, and the setting along the Santa Cruz River made it a course I wanted to come back and play again.
Back at Stables
I liked the room, the food, and how well the staff took care of us. I had dinner with Hank, the general manager, and got to catch up with him. Near Anza’s ninth green, just outside the clubhouse, there were cattle. They fit right in. We were staying on the old Otero Ranch, which traces its land grant to 1789.
I have a photograph of Annette walking through the Otero Ranch arch. When I look at it now, I think about coming back from town and sitting at Stables, in what used to be the ranch’s horse stable. I remember looking down at the cobbled floor and wondering how long those stones had been there. The golf was what brought me to Tubac. That was what I was thinking about at dinner.