The Old West Lives
I’ve been in search of sun lately. It seemed only logical then, I should jump in the car and head to Arizona. Now, I’m generally not a fan of Interstate freeways, so the central and southern stretches of I-5 are definitely out. But, I’m also trying to be as efficient with my time as possible, so compromise is needed. Instead, I give in to I-5 from Seattle to Portland, then head east on I-84 along the mighty Columbia River. Much less traveled than I-90 and I-5, this is almost like driving the secondary US highway system, which is a remnant of the 1940s and ’50s and distinct from the US freeway system. These roads are a throwback, being way more fun to drive and experience.
The weather isn’t exactly promising until I can escape the northwest and make my way at least into Nevada. All that high desert in April is still a bit risky for snow, however, and it doesn’t disappoint me. Between Portland and Pendleton is starts raining, as in pouring. I finally escape that and after a nine hour drive bed down in Boise, ID.
I get an early start on day 2, blowing out of Boise at 7am to try and miss the promised snow flurries. It doesn’t matter though – they begin falling almost in unison with the turning of the key. They subside for a bit, giving me a sense of false hope. That changes in a hurry as I keep climbing, and the temperature keeps dropping, and the snowflakes keep increasing. There’s so much of it I’m getting really nervous. I harken back to Deadman’s Pass (how appropriate) near Pendleton where I-84 gets interesting with unpredictable weather and a challenging roadway. This little sports car with those fat racing tires does not like anything remotely slick, and the snow piling up on the road has got me slowing dramatically while I gnash my teeth hoping for a break. The 7,500 foot altitude isn’t helping. Eventually though, things mellow out and I meet sunshine once again. With a great sense of relief, I find myself blasting through lonely Jackpot, NV with its the surrounding hills and high desert. Once past Ely, Nevada and permanently past the snow I get on to Las Vegas and across the new bridge over the Colorado River in front of Hoover Dam. Lake Mead looks scarily low, at least some 60-80 feet below the normal water line. One wonders how much longer there will be a lake.
From Vegas and still on US 93, it’s a shot across no-man’s land to the junction with US 74 and my destination some 13 hours later at Rancho Manana Resort in Cave Creek, AZ. Once into Arizona the driving speeds increase. The speed limit is 80, but just about everyone on this road is doing 100! Unreal and a bit unnerving, because I know most of these people have no idea how to control a car at that speed if something goes awry. When I start getting close enough to greater Phoenix to smell it, this southern part of US 93 beats me up with sunbaked asphalt over bad expansion joints that just pound and thump endlessly. I find myself begging out loud for relief, but there’s no one to hear me. Please, stop!!
Finally in Cave Creek, I find my room and wander over to the Tonto Bar & Grill, a well-known local watering hole here on the resort and adjacent to the unrelated Rancho Manana Golf Course. The Tonto is full of character and atmosphere with a cozy bar, a southwestern decor and lovely outdoor dining. I saddle up to the bar that accommodates all of four seats and strike up a conversation with my purveyor of the requisite nutrition and libation. I have more luck with her than the anti-socialite next to me. That’s fine, though – I like women who make no designs and have no expectations, like bartenders. A lovely Rueben sandwich and couple drinks later, I’m ready to hit the hay. I have a tee time the next day right here, so I need to get a little sleep.
Cave Creek is a fun little town with an emphasis on dining, drinking, a little ‘old west’ flavor and several rodeo-oriented taverns. Yes, you can ride an animal in their ring if you dare while the rest of the world watches, drinks and laughs at you embarrassing yourself. Good fun from my position as strictly a spectator. I have no need to show everyone how silly I can look. Outside of that there is also some fine dining to be had, like the excellent Pomodoro Italian Grill.
After a week-plus in Cave Creek and several rounds of wonderful golf at Rancho, Boulders and TPC Scottsdale, I head for another week in Sedona. I stay at the Sedona Summit Resort, which offers a nice, comfortable one-bedroom, even if it’s not given to as much afternoon light as I would like. I have to say, Sedona is a fantastic scenic, trail biking and hiking wonderland. The golf is pretty good, too. I play at the Sedona Golf Resort with a Seattle real estate broker and Martyn Joseph, a popular Welsh musician who happens to be a near scratch golfer and a friend of PGA champion Bernard Langer. They are both gracious and encouraging of my golf game. Naturally, I like them.
Sedona itself is full of tourists, and I’m surprised – there are traffic jams! Oh well, I get in two rounds of golf and a day of hiking before I have to deal with my car issues and figure out a way home. The car decided to dispense with an exhaust valve spring, effectively making it undriveable. Now it’ll be two weeks in the shop, so I have to figure out a way to pack all the extra stuff I brought with me into two or three bags so I can fly home without incurring massive baggage charges. Ah, the challenges of vacation travel. Sometimes it goes to plan; sometimes it doesn’t. I debated on whether to stay in Arizona while the car gets fixed, but the uncertainty of the repair timeline and the expense make me decide to throw up the white flag and head home.
Still, a worthwhile trip and certainly better than watching the rain fall in cold and damp Seattle!
