ARAVAIPA (By Kathryn Jones) November 1, 2005 — After more than two hours of driving through the Sonoran Desert in southern Arizona, I began to appreciate how much life can thrive in a land of little rain. This was a cactus garden on a monumental scale, and nature had thrown in some twists.

Teddy bear cholla, so named for its fuzzy appearance from a profusion of thorns, perched on the edge of rocky ledges. The long, slender branches of the ocotillo snapped like coach whips in the warm breeze. Tall saguaro jutted from the desert floor and the rugged hillsides in fanciful poses. Some appeared to be caught in a Wild West stickup, with armlike branches raised.

Tucked away in this desert's rocky folds is an oasis called Aravaipa Canyon, about 70 miles northeast of Tucson. In October my husband, Dan, and I set out from Phoenix and drove an easy two hours southeast before turning off State Highway 77 onto a narrow, paved road. After five miles, the asphalt turned to dirt.

Several dusty miles later, we spotted the telltale signs of water in the desert: a slash of brilliant green foliage along the spring-fed creek that runs through the canyon year-round. More than 19,400 acres of Aravaipa Canyon is a federally protected wilderness area overseen by the Bureau of Land Management; additional acreage at each end of the canyon is owned by The Nature Conservancy. Privately owned tracts are home to a hardy bunch of ranchers, retirees and a country inn where we planned to stay for a few days while exploring the wilderness area and its rich, diverse wildlife along one of the state's last pristine creeks.

A rusty sign welcomed us to the inn, Across the Creek at Aravaipa Farms. It's appropriately named, too, because we had to cross the creek in our rented Chevy Trail Blazer. Since rain was in the forecast, we had decided to play it safe and rent an S.U.V. The creek was only a foot or so deep, but on rare occasions it is so high that vehicles cannot get across.

The road cut through an orchard planted with rows of peach, apricot and Asian pear trees. The 285-acre farm was lush with pecan, eucalyptus, lemon and lime trees, pomegranate bushes and palo verde, a graceful tree with distinctive green bark. They stood out against the saguaro-studded, sienna-colored mountain that loomed behind the farm.

''I see you found us,'' Carol Steele, the inn's owner, said with a smile as she emerged from a small adobe-brick house above the orchard. She bought Aravaipa Farms in 1995 and gradually converted the primitive buildings on the property into casitas. She splashed the place with color, like the handmade birdhouses that hang on a dead tree, and rustic touches like twig furniture.

Carol hopped into a golf cart and led us to the Garden Casita, which faces an organic vegetable garden where she raises tomatoes, peppers and herbs. Since she is a member of the Phoenix-Scottsdale Culinary Hall of Fame (which recognized her for the marketplace-style, restaurant-and-retail businesses she started in the Phoenix area), we looked forward to dinners at the inn.

Our red stucco casita was part of a renovated barn. The sounds of trickling water from the rock fountain on our flagstone patio and buzzing bees from pots of blooming flowers made a soothing symphony. A fluffy black-and-white Australian shepherd named Einstein ambled up the stone steps to greet us.

As Einstein settled onto the porch for a nap, we settled into the casita. The exposed concrete and red brick walls were hung with original folk art, and the angled high ceiling was covered with weathered tin. On the queen bed were pillows covered in kilim rugs and warm Southwestern patterns. A thick wooden door from a stall in the original barn served as the door to the bathroom, which had a huge tiled walk-in shower.

The luxury was in the details. Slices of freshly baked banana bread, chocolate chip cookies and jars of the farm's peach jam and homemade granola were laid out for us in the little kitchen area. A wooden shelf held hand-painted ceramics with designs of blue birds. The small refrigerator was stocked with bottled water, a plate of brie and gorgonzola and red grapes and the next morning's breakfast: fresh fruit, yogurt, English muffins and orange juice.

There was no television or phone in our casita, and cellphones don't work well in the canyon, all of which was fine with us. We were ready to disconnect, if only for a few days. While there were other guests -- most of them couples in their 30's and 40's -- we saw them only at meals.

Dan and I also were looking forward to a long hike in the Aravaipa Canyon wilderness, which requires a permit. The most popular times to hike the canyon and to stay at the inn are spring and fall, so we counted ourselves lucky to have gotten reservations during the high season.

Since our hike wasn't scheduled until the next day, we explored the creek, with Einstein leading the way. We clambered over piles of round rocks along the creek bed and took off our hiking boots and waded in the clear, cold stream, quite refreshing since the temperature had climbed into the low 80's.

Food was one of the great pleasures of our stay. We had breakfast on the patio each morning. At lunchtime Carol or her assistant, Bonnie Lloyd, arrived with picnic baskets stocked with delicious roasted turkey or salmon-salad sandwiches, sliced fresh vegetables and cookies.

Each evening at 6, Carol was the host at a wine party on the terrace in front of the barn, where the big dining room is. Guests chatted and watched dozens of butterflies flutter in the bed of blooming zinnias below the terrace, while savory aromas floated from the kitchen.

One evening we dined on braised leg of lamb, polenta with a parmesan crust and flageolets (small, kidney-shaped French beans) with Swiss chard. Another evening, we had salmon baked in fig leaves and served with a gratinée of potatoes and fresh steamed asparagus. Our final meal at the inn was Moroccan chicken stuffed with garlic and preserved Meyer lemons grown at the farm, and a medley of roasted vegetables. The three delicious desserts: upside-down ginger-pear cake, mixed berry pie and three-layer apricot-nectar cake.

On the day of our hike in Aravaipa Canyon, friends drove down from Flagstaff to join us. Four of us piled into the S.U.V. and headed up the dirt road five miles to the wilderness area's western entrance. A javelina, a wild, native piglike creature, darted across the road as we approached.

The Aravaipa Canyon Wilderness has no established trails, restrooms or signs. The Bureau of Land Management limits access to the wilderness so hikers are relatively few (we crossed paths with no more than a dozen people during our visit there). Most of the hiking is in the creek itself, which was from one to two feet high. On the path from the parking lot to the creek, we came across a tarantula crawling in the sun and a javelina skull with its hide still attached to the bone. It had been quite efficiently gnawed.

ARAVAIPA CREEK flows through 11 miles of Technicolor cliffs lined with a riparian forest of cottonwood, willow, sycamore and ash trees. I'm not sure how many miles we covered on our hike, but I was thankful I'd worn sturdy hiking boots because the creek bottom was rocky. We had to clamber over fallen trees and boulders on the creek bank and take off our shoes several times to shake the gravel out of them.

Several hours into the hike, we found the mouth of a side canyon called Hell's Half Acre. The narrow slit of a canyon was strewn with gigantic boulders. Ferns hung from niches in the cliffs and pools of still turquoise water reflected daggers of sunlight. There were other side canyons to explore along the route.

Almost halfway into our six-hour hike, the canyon suddenly narrowed to about 30 feet across with sheer walls rising on either side. The water got deeper and deeper. We found a sandbar in the middle of the creek and adjusted our packs higher around our waists so they wouldn't get wet. The hip-deep water was so cold that my legs felt numb.

We'd been scouting for wildlife, especially for desert bighorn sheep. We didn't see them, but during the hike back out of the canyon we heard chattering and spotted a coati, a creature that resembles a raccoon with a long tail and a long snout. Several of them scrambled about on a rocky incline along the creek.

Later that evening, we soaked our tired muscles in the hot tub and watched a full moon rise over the mountain. The saguaros looked otherworldly in the silvery moonlight. Some of them had been standing there for a century or more, and would be standing there long after we were gone.

The next morning, as we pulled onto the paved highway that would lead us home, a diamondback rattlesnake slithered across the road, a last reminder of the wildness we had come to see.

If you go

From Sky Harbor International Airport in Phoenix, it is about a two-and-a-half-hour drive to Aravaipa Canyon; from Tucson International Airport, it takes about 90 minutes.

Across the Creek at Aravaipa Farms is open Wednesday to Sunday. Casita rates are $250 a night, single or double occupancy, with a minimum two-night stay for weekends and holidays. Rates include meals. Confirmed reservations require a 50 percent deposit. No credit cards are accepted. The five casitas, which have covered patios, are furnished with queen beds, down comforters, oversize showers, a coffeepot, fireplace and refrigerator. A large guest house that can accommodate six is also available. Reservations and information:(520) 357-6901 or www.aravaipafarms.com.

A permit is required to enter Aravaipa Canyon Wilderness, and costs $5 a person a day. They can be reserved online at www.az.blm.gov/rec/aravaipa.htm, or by calling the Bureau of Land Management, Safford District Office, at (928) 348-4400. The access to the canyon from Aravaipa Farms is at the western end of the wilderness. Backpacking and camping are allowed in the canyon with a maximum stay of three days and two nights.