Growth on the West Side includes homes under construction in Sentinel Shadows, bordering "A" Mountain, or Sentinel Peak Park. The city is exploring the acquisition of 2.74 adjacent acres for preservation.

james S. Wood / Arizona Daily Star

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It's Wednesday, 6:30 p.m. A long shadow covers the eastern slope of "A" Mountain, a cone-shaped hill a mile west of Downtown Tucson. I'm sitting on a stone wall talking to a man named Joe, who says he lives in Sells.

He says he came up the hill because he has a visitor from Minnesota and wanted to show him the view.

The Minnesota visitor is just now sucking the last bit of life out of a marijuana joint, which he then tosses into the pulverized dirt below the wall. He smiles at Joe with eyes that are blissfully unfocused.

"This is something, man. Really something," he says.

He's talking about the view that stretches across the Tucson valley.

This view has seduced generations. The Hohokam and O'odham natives and later the Spaniards who built a presidio Downtown in 1775 all used the hill as a lookout where they'd watch for approaching danger. That's why "A" Mountain, a mere 538 feet higher than the surrounding terrain, is actually named Sentinel Peak. It became "A" Mountain in 1915, when University of Arizona students put a huge white "A" below the peak.

Human use of this hill keeps changing, as does the condition of its sadly abused vegetation. If Joe's stoned companion could get his eyes focused, he'd see scattered in the brush below us beer and Gatorade bottles, discarded combs, cigarettes, soft drink cups, and here and there a tattered garbage bag snagged in a creosote bush, the detritus that tells us unmistakably that we are in a city.

A different era

Garbage may be the least of the problems on the minds of Councilman José Ibarra, 37, who represents the area, and residents who live in the old neighborhoods between "A" Mountain and its slightly taller sister, Tumamoc Hill.

Twenty years ago, when Ibarra was a teenager, he and his friends would drive up "A" Mountain to hang out, listen to music, socialize and meet girls. That was in the '80s. Most people didn't smoke marijuana in public. Hardly any kids wandered up the mountain, as they do today, with brass knuckles and a handgun.

It's one of the reasons we recently suggested "A" Mountain be closed to vehicle traffic and turned into a pedestrian-only area — an idea that Ibarra finds offensive.

On April 30, Tucson police swept the parking areas at the top of the hill and made 28 arrests, 12 for possession of marijuana, and a bunch for drinking in public and possession of narcotics paraphernalia. On May 21, they went back and arrested 19 people, two with concealed weapons (brass knuckles, a switchblade knife) and a bunch of weed smokers.

Mixed in with this crowd are families with young kids, quietly sitting on the tailgate of a pickup, enjoying the warm air and the honeyed light of the evening.

Ibarra said he thinks closing the park to get rid of the gangsters penalizes families that have traditionally gathered here to talk and rest.

Then and now

The West Side of Tucson still feels like the bones of the Sonoran Desert. Native vegetation, though dwindling, is still widespread. Demographically, the area is like looking at the cultural strata of Arizona over 200 years — layer upon layer of Hispanics, blacks and Anglos, Yaquis, O'odham, Apaches and a sprinkling of upstate Navajos and Hopis.

Recent conflicts over the use of Tumamoc Hill and "A" Mountain are an outgrowth of the surge in population density and development on the West Side, and to some extent the result of a fractured vision. To our knowledge, nobody is looking at the area as a whole to determine the best way to cope with recent demographic changes.

You can see the problem on Tumamoc Hill. The Desert Laboratory, established on Tumamoc Hill in 1903 when Tucson had a population of roughly 5,600, is now surrounded by slump-block homes and tiled roofs and a metro area of nearly 1 million inhabitants. To the chagrin of scientists working there, thousands of residents have been using the narrow driveway that leads up the hill for exercise.

So many thousands are using the road and leaving trash and human waste on the hillside that the University of Arizona, which manages the botanical preserve, considered closing it to the public. At Ibarra's urging, the UA will keep it open but will restrict access, allowing walkers to use the road before 7:30 a.m. and after 5 p.m.

Ibarra said he would also have 20 parking spots marked off on West Anklam Road that would be available for use only during the hours the Tumamoc Road is open.

This compromise with UA Dean of Science Joaquin Ruiz may do some good, but it's not much of a solution. If the road is open only in the early mornings and early evenings, walkers could just as easily park at St. Mary's Hospital, which isn't crowded at those times. That would save Ibarra's office the $10,000 cost of the parking spaces.

That money might be used creatively to generate more cash to purchase open space at the base of "A" Mountain — though the $10,000 would be a pittance compared to the likely asking price for the 2.74 acres of privately owned hillside that Ibarra wants the city to buy.

Stress on the West Side

The open-space issue is another example of demographic stress on the West Side. In relatively recent times, the hills at the base of "A" Mountain have become a desirable place to live, densely packed with expensive homes.

If you drive to the top of the hill and look down the north side of it, faux Santa Fe-style homes, their pressed-wood frames covered by adobe-colored stucco, are visible, along with a large swimming pool here or there. Directly east of these new homes is the 2.74 acres owned by Tucsonan John O'Hare. Residents of the area would like the city to buy the land for open space. Ibarra thinks it's a good idea because it enhances a historic landmark — "A" Mountain, a place dear to the hearts of many West Side residents.

But how much would the city have to pay for the 2.74 acres? We asked O'Hare, but he wouldn't say.

"You're putting me in a difficult position," he said.

Even though nobody knows what this small parcel will sell for, the city and residents still want it. But go up "A" Mountain, look down at the existing houses, and tell us that adding 20 or so new homes east of the existing homes will make a radical difference.

It's very much a Tucson kind of fantasy. We are, if nothing else, a classic "NIMBY" town. Build whatever you like, we often say, but "not in my back yard." My back yard should be open spaces.

Convoluted deal

So badly does the city want the 2.74 acres adjacent to the new development already in place that it apparently is willing to de-annex land it owns near Orange Grove and Thornydale roads, at the edge of Marana, in a convoluted deal that it believes will eventually generate the funds needed to buy the "A" Mountain land.

Here's how it would work: A developer wants to build a shopping center on land that straddles the Tucson-Marana border. That creates a potential development nightmare because the two jurisdictions have different building and permitting standards. So, the city has been saying to Marana, it will give Marana this land that is part of the city of Tucson; in exchange, Marana gives Tucson a portion of the sales tax derived from these stores once this shopping center is built. This proposal makes it easier for the developer, while preserving a source of income for the city and Marana.

It also gets rid of a pesky political problem. No one is willing to say it out loud, but one of the shopping center's problems is that it will include a big-box store, and there's a good chance it will be a Wal-Mart. The store has become a political pariah among Democrats, and because five of the seven members of the Tucson City Council are Democrats, it's unlikely they'll cut deals to draw a Wal-Mart into the city limits.

What is most interesting about this tale is the lengths the city apparently is willing to go to pick up a piece of land on the West Side it doesn't really need at a price it doesn't know.

If the city is willing to put out a pile of cash for 2.74 acres, it should invest that money in cleaning up the existing park on Sentinel Peak, perhaps installing a restroom, and allowing the Parks Department to send crews in more frequently to address problems with trash, erosion and invasions of noxious weeds.

"A" Mountain still provides a great view of the city in three directions, and a unique late-afternoon view to the west, where the dark peaks of the Tucson Mountains rise like giant sails on the horizon. If the mountain is going to remain open to vehicles, then it's more important to improve the park than to take 2.74 acres and a considerable amount of potential property taxes off the city's taxable land base.