History and hotdogs make for a gut-wrenching combination at Canoa Ranch. By Tim Vanderpool NANCY WILLIAMS' eyes narrowed as she gazed west towards the retirement hub of Green Valley one crisp February afternoon, and she wasn't grinning. The middle-aged school teacher from tiny Elephant Head, located 15 minutes away near the base of Mount Wrightson, pointed indignantly to a string of patio homes snaking along a ridgeline high above Interstate 19. "Does that fit into this landscape at all?" she asked. "Personally, I think it's absolutely criminal that someone wants to destroy this area just to make money." Standing east of the highway, among the picturesque scattering of peeling adobe buildings and faltering cottonwoods at the heart of historic Canoa Ranch, Green Valley's specter of identical, tawny colored homes did seem sadly bizarre and a bit daunting. Onetime home to Hohokams and Mexican vaqueros, scoundrels, moguls and the occasional frontier thief, Canoa is threatened with becoming yet another repository of cul-de-sacs and golf carts if Fairfield Homes has its way. Next Tuesday the Board of Supervisors will have a public hearing on whether to rezone the 298-acre fragment of the 6,400-acre property that lies west of the interstate. Opponents call that decision a crucial domino that could tumble across the four-lane blacktop, sealing both the fate of Canoa, and of residents who moved to this area in flight from urbanity. Fairfield, which bought the land in 1994, remains strategically tight-lipped on its plans for the rest of the ranch. But company president David Williamson has offered assurances the 12 buildings at the ranch's core would be rejuvenated as historic novelties, replete with a visitors' center and gift shops. Or, as one critic remarked, "Someplace that could sell southwestern souvenirs made in Indonesia to midwestern tourists." And Williamson's promised that a few thousand more homes creeping towards the Santa Rita Mountains would only enhance the area's rural lifestyle. Few were buying his spiel that February day, however, as a circus-like junket arranged by County Supervisor Raul Grijalva Jr. converged on the otherwise serene ranch. The junket was, for Grijalva, a personal mission: His parents met there some 50 years ago, and the ranch was his first home. Now he was pounding the drumbeat of public opinion against Fairfield, as folks ambled curiously through the rambling complex and kids scurried around the dusty yard. If Fairfield's rezoning request is the linchpin to Canoa's future, then the ranch's oldtimers are keys to its past. And they were honorary poster boys that bright afternoon, prime among them 78-year-old Raul Grijalva Sr., who watched the action from his perch on a weathered stump. The elder Grijalva hired on here as ranchhand in 1945, after traveling north from his Sonoran home. Another Canoa veteran, Jesus Salcido, stood nearby, looking around forlornly. Salcido's son, Marco, called the visit a very emotional journey. "We have lots of memories from this place," he said. "It was a working ranch then, all green and abundant. There was still water running down the Santa Cruz when I left with my parents in 1965." Supervisor Grijalva meanwhile worked the crowd, bouncing between the Canoa veterans and a small army of reporters. "The old folks used to tell me stories about when they first came here in the '40s," he was saying. "Guys like my dad were tough cowboys, and they helped build this ranch and some of the buildings." According to Grijalva, Fairfield has also added a crucial ingredient to the recipe: cold, hard cash. "There have been plenty of political buy-outs," he said. "Fairfield has given campaign money to (supervisors) Boyd, Even and Danny Eckstrom. Now we'll see how they vote on the rezoning." What emerges from that tainted oven will likely be a typical loaf of local politics leavened by big money. At the same time, a portion of the county's current $362-million bond proposal is tentatively earmarked for preserving the ranch and nearby Juan Bautista de Anza National Trail. In a memo, county Cultural Resources Manager Linda Mayro said Canoa's grassy hills "comprise a very important historic site in Pima County, and as such require special consideration and treatment." And the Sante Fe-based Trust For Public Lands has offered to help preserve the spot. All of which seemed pretty remote that February day, as Fairfield spin doctors scrambled to lend their pending incursion an upbeat touch with ad hoc presentations and a catered barbecue. But President Williamson, looking young and successful in a white Fairfield Homes sport shirt and cowboy boots, still appeared baffled by the ungrateful bunch who seemed eager to devour his chow and spit in his face. He watched as diners dabbed napkins at their chins and chatted quietly. Finally, Williamson said the crowd's barely bridled hostility was really no surprise, given that only Fairfield's opponents were invited. "You know, we're always willing to talk to people, to tell them they won't be affected. We want them to understand that we'll actually be enhancing this rural setting." That claim raised a snort from Nancy Williams, who called it pure baloney. "We moved here for quiet nights and the stars overhead," she said. "And now this. People should see what they're trying to do to us out here." She indignantly turned away, as a dirty paper plate suddenly caught an upstart draft and skittered along at her heels. A public hearing to discuss the rezoning with the Board of Supervisors meets at 6:30 p.m. Tuesday, March 18, at Sahuarita High School, 350 W. Helmet Peak Road. Call 740-8126 for information.

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