I’m often surprised that so few people around here seem to know about the DeAnza International Trail. It’s the beautifully designed trail that begins just below the bridge over the Santa Cruz River on Rio Rico Drive.

I’m urging you to go take a hike. You can park your car in a very ample lot north of and down below the bridge. Head north and pass through the cattle gate, and you’ll find a clearly marked and comfortable trail. Bring the kids (or grandkids): the trail is ideal for a family outing.

It’s safe, too. You’ll only meet harmless, skittish cattle, placid, grazing horses and, surely, snooping ravens buzzing overhead.

When you hike the trail, you may discover a special place, as I have. My special place is much farther north and lies under a mesquite forest (bosque).

So far, I’ve enjoyed it nearly all to myself when I hike it year 'round during early mornings.

This mesquite bosque flourishes between the Union Pacific Railroad tracks and the Santa Cruz River west of where Rio Rico’s Camino Mar meets Pendleton Drive. The trail cuts through the forest on a plateau, along the edge of sandy banks that steeply slope down to the river. From the banks’ edges, I pause to watch the Tumacacori Mountains turn purple, then pink, before fading into gold as the morning sun climbs farther into the sky.

I sometimes find drama, like the time I watched a mother bobcat trying hard to herd her five, tumbling kittens down to the river. I also once spotted a mountain lion sitting in the middle of the Union Pacific Railroad tracks licking a paw. When the lion saw me, it bounded off, headed up to the San Cayetano Mountains.

Twice, I’ve watched, spellbound, cows birthing their calves.

Other dramas occur when I’ve almost stepped on snakes, all of them (so far?) harmless. The most common snakes I meet are black snakes and gopher snakes -- both of which can reach six-feet long.

I don’t much like snakes, but I do keep looking for a slim garter snake with an orange bottom and an avocado green top. Just behind its head there was an encircling orange band. When disturbed, this delicate snake raises and twirls its tail in an unconvincing imitation of a diamondback. (So far, in almost 11 years, I have only met a single diamondback. It was a juvenile with its mouth stuffed full of field mouse.)

Then, there's the fun when I meet coyotes. The more I meet and learn about coyotes, the more I’m amused by them when they play games of peek-a-boo with me.

In fact, I’ve grown very fond of a coyote I’ve named Shadow.

During my hikes, this sleek and handsome animal shadows me forty feet or so parallel off to my side. When I stop, he stops. He clearly sees me far more easily than I see him, because coyotes become nearly invisible beneath the sun-dappled shade of the forest.

If Shadow doesn’t appear, I worry, because I’ve seen coyote corpses riddled with gaping shotgun wounds.

But casting those ugly discoveries aside, my section of the DeAnza Trail is such a sweet place that I’m eager to share it. I’m wondering why, since I prefer meeting cows, horses, bobcats, and ravens far more than meeting humans.

Nevertheless, I promise you'll enjoy taking a hike on the DeAnza Trail.

And if you see a coyote, have no fear: it could be my Shadow.

PS: Let me know if you'd like to join me on a morning hike on my special part of the De'Anza Trail. Call me at 377-8406.