Tucson to Moab, 2/20/23 - 3/12/23

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THE BASICS



From Tucson we traveled to Ajo, which is quite near the Mexican border. It’s a small town we like very much. Then north to Phoenix, where our highlight was a leisurely lunch with my brother’s widow Katy.



Next stop was Cottonwood, which has really been spiffed up impressively.



John loves Flagstaff and we went there despite the weather, i.e. the snow in Flagstaff was measured in feet. Next to Monument Valley, which Linda loves, and some welcome sun time. From there, north to Moab, Utah, where our reservation is for three nights.



THE FLUFF



There is an enormous abandoned copper mine in Ajo. One consequence of the mine’s development was a decision by the mineworkers to make the town as pleasant as possible for the mineworkers. So there are some stunning large public buildings. The town square is bordered by two blazingly white churches on one side, faced by a handsome railroad station, now turned visitors center. The other two sides are lined with stores and restaurants. It is a peaceful, pretty area.



In Ajo, we took a seven-mile loop drive through the desert to the west of town. It had rained heavily the day before, and if the gullies had been full of water, a lot of folks who were camped all along the route would have been cut off for awhile. The scenery was magnificent; mountains in the distances and rolling desert all along the route.



I mentioned the proximity to Mexico, and we were seeing plenty of border patrol vehicles. Between Ajo and the border is the Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument, where we stayed for several days some years back. We skipped a visit this time - I wasn’t eager to hear John repeat “If I never see another cactus, it will be too soon.”



From Ajo to Phoenix was certainly a contrast. It is such a huge city, with so much traffic. As I said above, the highlight of our stay was the lunch with Katy. Johnny has been gone for two and a half years and she misses him very much. But she has created a full life for herself, attending workshops, spending time with family, and doing some very nice updates in her home. The best part of the lunch was the end; we had already paid the bill when Katy and I suddenly decided to order dessert and coffee. Fried ice cream, my favorite. We chuckled a lot, feeling somewhat naughty and fully “worth it.”



The other significant event in the Phoenix area was a visit to Johnny’s gravesite at the Veterans Memorial Cemetery. The cemetery has grown so much since we were there for my father, and later, my mother. But it still is a place where I am pleased my family is resting, amid the desert sunshine, breezes, and peacefulness. One strange happening - en route back to the car, we passed a plaque which only said “Black Bart,” without the usual indication of service branch, rank, and dates of birth and death.



One day, we ventured out for a late morning coffee break. We ended up at a place named “Amped.” But on their signs, they put “AM” on one line, and “PED” on a line below that. So I kept reading it as two syllables, and wondering if it was the name of one of the stocks John studies, or what. It really was an embarrassingly long time before I realized it was a one-syllable word.



Between Phoenix and Flagstaff is Cottonwood, a town where we have stayed several times before. But, wow, has it changed! John figures it has become a popular day trip from Phoenix, a pleasant alternative to Sedona a few miles north. The formerly quiet streets are now lined with restaurants, upscale shops, and most of all, wine-tasting establishments. Apparently, it is becoming a prominent wine-producing area, though we didn’t actually observe vineyards.



A favorite trip for us from Cottonwood is Jerome, which stands high on a hill above that valley. Jerome was a major copper mining spot decades ago. Unlike Ajo, the mine owners did not oversee its growth, and the town with its roads that zigzag up the mountain became a wild place, with gunfights, brothels, etc. It is fun to tramp the streets and think of what a place it had been, and to admire current efforts to improve its reputation.



Not for the first time on this trip, we started wondering if maybe we should change route when we heard the weather forecast and snow totals for Flagstaff, our next planned destination. But John phoned ahead to our reserved campground and was assured that the snow was getting cleared from the RV sites. Well….. The snow was still feet deep at the sides of each site. Maneuvering into our spot was difficult. The snow was as high as the table surface on the picnic table. Sitting opposite the train station/visitors center and watching the trains go by, frequently from each direction, from an outside table with his Guinness on it, is one of John’s most treasured memories. This time, though, it was a bit too cool despite the bright sunshine. We did walk quite a bit around the center of town - actually, searching for a post office because we needed to send a birthday card that required extra postage. There was ice sometimes on the sidewalks, though many people were outside shoveling and plowing.



(By the way, it seemed quite a coincidence that our RV campground was named “Black Bart’s.”)



Next stop was Goulding’s RV campground in Monument Valley. We had some fine hours in the sun when we arrived. And in the evening, our neighbors kept us amused with their long, futile efforts to start a fire to cook their dinner - they did finally succeed. Feral dogs hung around hoping for handouts, but they left peacefully when denied.



I love Monument Valley. Many of John Wayne’s movies, my favorites when young, were filmed there. And as an adult I have become fond of Tony Hillerman’s mysteries featuring Navajos, and I am fascinated to learn about their customs and beliefs.



We had taken tours of Monument Valley (which can only be led by Navajos) in the past. And anyway, the view from the campground of several of the monuments was plenty awesome. So instead we drove north in search of a place John had gone one day years ago. Unfortunately, my freakiness about heights kicked in when we arrived at Gooseneck Point State Park, and that was as far as we explored. Gooseneck was quite fascinating, though. We were atop a 1000 foot cliff looking down at the San Juan River zigzagging below on its journey to the Colorado River. The river took huge zigs and zags, resembling a group of goosenecks. What we could observe consumed seven miles of space to advance one mile westward.



En route back to our campsite, we succumbed to a major tourist lure. It is a pencil stretch of road which dips down toward a cluster of monuments, featured in a scene in Forrest Gump. Most of the photographers stood in the middle of the road to shoot, but I decided it wasn’t really worth risking my life. So my photo is slightly off-center.



On we went north through the Navajo Reservation into Utah to Moab. It is a fairly dramatic drive, with many ups and downs. Unfortunately, in Utah elevations are not posted. But during one stretch, we kept climbing to the tops of hills, sure that we had reached the top, only to confront another incline. We eventually reached a snow-covered mesa, which was quite lovely.



We arrived at our campground, which suddenly looked very familiar. There was a high school at the rear of the park, and when we stayed here many years ago, we were awakened each morning by the marching band out practicing. A new company has taken over and renamed this place, so it was a happy surprise. We arrived here yesterday on a lovely sunny day, but today and tomorrow rain is forecast; at least it’s not snow!

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