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Published: February 23rd 2008
February 2004 The main reason anyone ever goes to Arizona is to see the world’s biggest hole in the ground — and that is a mistake if they explore no further, because they’re missing out. Arizona generally seems to mean just one thing to the masses - the Grand Canyon. The world’s biggest and most beautiful hole in the ground pulls in over 5 million visitors a year, who arrive, gasp in awe at the size of that hole in the ground and then leave. We can relate to this, because that’s exactly what we did way back in 1989 when there seemed to be so many other high profile sights to tick off. I suppose we cheated a bit having flown over it in a small 6 seater plane (which is an ideal way to be sick incidentally if you take the afternoon flight when the temperatures have soared), but I can remember vividly reeling off an entire film in 10 minutes whilst thinking wow (and we’re unlikely to be back), what’s next on the list!
The numbers who turn south to explore the rest of the state are apparently small and the numbers who go north to the
incomparable Monument Valley are positively minute….but that’s a story for another day and you’ll have to wait for the production of 1991 blogs for those pictures to make an appearance. We flew in to Phoenix courtesy of BA, back in the days when US immigration had yet to find it’s teeth, retina scans were not in vogue, obligatory damage to luggage was not in the training manual and any old motel address would suffice without the third degree. We only had a vague plan this time - in the words of the song, to ride across the desert on a horse with no name. Arizona has all the vital ingredients of every good movie from yesteryear: epic landscapes, deserts, mountains and swathes of giant cactus, with every new stretch like a classic western unrolling before your eyes. We’d tried the driving around in the car routine, didn’t have enough bottle to try a Harley Davidson on Route 66 and so figured it might be worth having a look from the back of a horse. If you’ve seen any of our other blogs, you’ll have seen John looking somewhat uncomfortable on his most recent experience in South Africa and having spent
years avoiding the hooved ones since Argentina 1996, it was a surprise he agreed to this experiment.
It was late afternoon by the time we’d picked up the car in Phoenix, so we needed to get a few miles under our belts before checking into a motel en route to the ranch near the California / Nevada border. We’d had a look round the ranching scene before flying out and quite a lot down near Tucson suggested that the experienced rider would be more at home with them. The other factor was obviously cost - who needs a TV in the room and a walk-in wardrobe big enough to park the car in when you’re supposed to be out on a horse all day. We just needed some horses who knew where we were supposed to be going, desert scenery and a lesson or two on the basics.
We ended up having an overnight in one of Arizona’s weirdest town - Lake Havasu City. Lake Havasu was founded by some chainsaw magnet in 1964 and to put the new creation on the map, US$2.5 million was splashed out on London Bridge when it was replaced in England in
1968. The Bridge was disassembled and the marked stones were shipped to Lake Havasu City before being reassembled for another US $7 million. It opened in October 1971. Whilst Lake Havasu is on the Colorado River, the bridge has to make do crossing an 8ft (2.4m) deep man-made canal that leads from the city - not exactly the Thames then. The hot rumour for years was that it had actually been bought in the belief that it was Tower Bridge! The extremities of the Bridge give rise to an incredibly tacky theme zone, in which the very best(!) of England can be found - still it gives the Americans a taste of getting ripped off that they must undoubtedly feel on arrival in London. The rest of Lake Havasu is a planned community of neat homes and trailer parks, where the good folk seem content to talk fishing and the size of their outboard motors.
We pressed on to our ranch - StageCoach Trails. It wasn’t quite the High Chaparal, but it was friendly enough, the food was good and they had horses. The first priority is to match the guests on the ranch with a horse to suit
their ability - we avoided being matched with the local version of a Shetland pony - and teamed up with Najavo and Durango respectively. On the first day, we went out with two other beginners - a couple of snowbirds from Lake Havasu City dressed in His’n’Hers 1950’s bomber jackets, more suited for wear in a 1950’s diner. They were best described as “not confident” and it was a relief that they left the day after, as we barely got beyond a walk. The next day we went out with a larger group, which included a couple from Kansas who were considering purchasing a dude ranch and were obviously in the experienced rider class. It was fortunate that Navajo and Durango knew what the deal was - they just basically follow the lead of the other horses. However, Durango had the annoying habit of tripping - perhaps deliberately just to add amusement to his life. It was quite exhilarating cantering down the dry river beds, but also a bit scary when the horse heads straight for the only overhanging tree branch within 10 square miles!
After three days of wearing the skins off our backsides, we felt a little
R’n’R and a good night out was in order. If your familiar with locality, good night’s out are not always the order of the day in rural America. John (ever watchful of the budget) suggested Laughlin where he had vague memories of really nice midweek rooms for $25 and steaks for $2.99, just like the old days in Vegas. He was outvoted and we drove to Las Vegas, after some internet shopping to get a good rate at a casino hotel on the Strip. Las Vegas has changed a lot since 1988 and the other times we’ve dropped by for a night out. Whilst you can still get a deal on a hotel (assuming there isn’t the Michigan Washing Machine Salesman’s Annual Conference or a big fight night taking place at the same time). We found a competitive rate at Treasure Island - free aerial view of the Pirate show included.
It was a day’s drive south, past Phoenix and Tucson, to Cochise County. A few roads in the state have been designated “scenic routes”, but the fact is Arizona has so much scenery that it doesn’t know what to do with it. The scenery even overflows onto the
freeways, so we mostly took the fast route. The freeway south before Tucson has an aeroplane graveyard, so you have the bizarre sight of desert vistas and abandoned Boeings. We didn’t quite know what to make of Tucson. It seems to have developed a resort town reputation, but all the rates seemed very uncompetitive compared to further north - perhaps because it was supposed to be warmer - so we pressed on south.
Cochise County’s “big draw” is Tombstone: “The Town That Was Too Tough To Die”. It’s a lot of a theme park in truth, with actors staging Carry On Cowboy gunfights on the hour. Arizonans will tell you this was where the West was won and they are still winning it down the road at the OK Corral, the scene of the notorious gunfight. You can find another group of actors playing gunfights as Doc Holliday and Wyatt Earp
Bisbee a few miles further south was more of our kind of town - just as historic as Tombstone and a lot more picturesque. It’s a mining town that boomed in the 1880s and in it’s time apparently home to an extraordinary number of brothels, plenty of riots,
gunfights, bank raids and general bad behaviour. It still has that edgy, frontier feel and there are plenty of strange looking characters that wouldn’t have looked too far out of place when the mining was booming a century ago. However now that the mining has faded to a degree, the local population of Bisbee seems to be a combination of artists, city escapees and those that don’t want to live the American dream as we would see it in the movies and everybody was pretty friendly. We booked into a retro style hotel that also seemed as though it wouldn’t have been out of place back in yesteryear and risked a venture into a couple of bars. There is apparently a trailer park in town where you can stay in a genuine retro caravan plucked from the 1950’s, but we never did spot it. One thing in Bisbee that you can’t fail to spot is the Lavender Pit - a huge hole in the ground on the edge of town, which I think is a now defunct copper mine. The area has that Western Australia frontier feel to it.
We moved on to Fort Bowie, a 19th century outpost
of the US Army near the town of Wilcox. This was the centre of operations for nearly 30 years in the engagements with the Chiricahua Apaches. Fort Bowie and Apache Pass were the focal point of military operations eventually culminating in the surrender of Geronimo in 1886 and the banishment of the Chiricahuas to Florida. The fort was apparently abandoned in 1894 and all that remains is the view and some adobe structures. The ruins of the fort are a good walk from the main parking lot, which is enough it seems to put a lot of people off the site. There were quite a few who did a swift U turn about 200 yards from the car park, after realising the object of their intended visit was more than just round the corner from the lot.
It had actually been snowing near Fort Bowie, so in pursuit of an increase of temperature we headed back north through the snow - yes, the snow! - for a few days near Scottsdale. There was also a sporting angle to pursue. The area around Phoenix is booming - the snow birds from the north are now joined by those who find
life in the desert more amenable than a winter in Ohio, just as long as you don’t have to sacrifice the other aspects of life. Hence the valley now has MLB and NHL franchises to add to the NBA and NFL. We found a deal in Scottsdale, which is probably the nicest of the satellites of Phoenix - it’s all a bit coffee shops and art galleries to tempt the dollar from the pockets of the traditional visitor staying at the luxury golf resorts, but pleasant enough.
John drove across town to Glendale to buy some tickets at the new Phoenix Coyotes arena. The team began play in the NHL as the Winnipeg Jets, but a combination of a lack of success on the ice and financial pressures left them vunerable to being transplanted into the alien environment of desert ice hockey. The Coyotes arrived for the 1996/97 season and continued to have both their previous problems. The financial pressures seemed partly caused by playing at the same arena as the Phoenix Suns, where the floor was just barely large enough to fit a regulation-size hockey rink. The building's sight lines, particularly in the upper deck, had been designed
for the much smaller basketball floor. As a result, several thousand seats had badly obstructed views. We’d seen the Coyotes in the 1990 something season, where we actually had seats where about a quarter of the ice (including one of the nets) couldn't be seen! All was well this time - for $15 you could see the whole ice and with a bit of relocation, you could see a whole lot more! The losing streak continued mind, the New York Islanders cruised to a comfortable victory and Mr Gretsky subsequently installed himself as coach as well as part owner in a bid to pass the “Great One’s” knowledge on to the current players.
We also took in a Phoenix Suns game the following day. The transitional Suns, featuring the alleged next great player Amare Stoudemire, failed to overcome the Toronto Raptors in a lacklustre affair. The brewery pub before the game was actually more of a highlight of the evening than the game.
On our final day, we climbed up Camelback Mountain for a view over the valley. The first time we came to Phoenix in 1990, the metro area was very manageable and fairly uncongested. The view
Phoenix Coyotes
The view from the better class of seats!now reinforces just how big the sprawl has become.
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