Phoenix to Flagstaff

What a day it has been. But let’s start at the beginning – last night.

Unfortunately, the car I had reserved for this trip, a Wranger Jeep (the only car I saw fit to do this in – bar a Thunderbird), was no longer available. All of them had been recalled due to a safety issue. To be honest, I was already so tired I just didn’t care. I got a good deal on another car, also 4x4, so all was well.

The thunderstorms I was watching from the sky led me all the way to my first stop in Wickenburg, lighting up the sky in the most spectacular way. Booming claps and flashes that outlined the storm clouds – just glorious. I was in bed by midnight.

I slept.

I woke early. Predictable. A quick breakfast, a Skype with the missus, and out to the car it was. The journey to Prescott was just perfect – a clear blue sky, Natalie Maines on the stereo, and quiet, quiet roads; bliss.

With the car to myself, and a whole day to get to Flagstaff, I paid an unplanned visit to a pioneer graveyard in Congress. A perfect start. No information, just very old graves.

I arrive at Prescott to find an arts and craft fair going on. I ask a man with an anvil and hammer if he would help make my new bracelet fit and he was happy to oblige. Only cost me $5.

I buy a t-shirt to help support the families of the 19 firefighters who lost their lives in the recent fires around Yarnell. I passed through the small town on the way. Scorched rocks and charred stumps all around it make for some sobering thoughts. It’s only a small place, so easy to imagine that every family must have been affected in some way.  

A visit to The Palace, Prescott’s oldest saloon, fills me up with cherry pie and coffee, then it was on to Jerome.

I’ve only passed though Jerome once before – last year – and wished we had stopped. It’s the most peculiar town. Perched on the side of a hill, it was a copper mine made up of 15,000 people. In 1955, there were less then 50 people, and today, around 500 artists and building owners make up the population. The buildings are mostly protected, and have mostly gone unchanged (bar safety renovations and paint, etc.). I headed straight to the ghost town and mine, which cost all of $5. Worth every penny!

One thing I really wanted to do this trip was to see a bit more of backcountry Arizona. I knew there were many roads Google Maps didn’t cover, so bought a great big paper map of Arizona, and lo, there was a dirt road that would lead from Jerome to Williams, not far from Flagstaff. It’s name – Perkinsville Road.

I spoke to the girl in the gift shop about the road, how long it would take and what kind of trip it was, and she seemed to think it’d be no problem, which was good to hear (although I should have a full tank and plenty of water, you know, just in case). I headed back to town to eat at one of two restaurants I had marked out (thanks Arizona Highways) only to find one was closed and the other’s kitchen was closed. So I hit the next place I saw, which turned out to be very good (it also had a Foursquare special, which I found slightly amazing). With a full belly and some doubt about whether I was sticking to my agreement of not doing anything stupid, I headed out to hit the back roads. On the way back to the car, I asked some older women about the roads just to get a second opinion. They said that due to the torrential rain the area had been having, getting stuck in the mud was pretty likely. I decided that she was just a worried woman, and thought that if it got too bad – I’d turn back.

Onwards! The first 30 minutes was up a very dusty road, narrow and winding but relatively simple. The drop I could see just below my window was big enough to make me regret the decision already, but, soon it leveled out. Flat and beautiful open plains, and great big storm clouds gathering overhead, just as I passed the first warning sign. I decided the storms were moving away from me, I’m not sure why, and pushed on.

It was pretty hairy in some places, lots of mud, but nothing too crazy, until I rounded a corner and there it was – a washed out road. I had no idea about these roads or how the ground reacted to such amounts of water, so I really thought that was it. I got out. I was pretty annoyed. I poked the water with a stick, not sure why, and was about to get back in and turn around when family in their great big truck arrived behind me. They told me it’d be fine, and they just ploughed right through. It didn’t look that deep. I saw them wait at the bend ahead to see if I got through, I backed up, hit the gas, and boom – through. I wish I had taken a picture of it, but really I was so excited I forgot to. From then on I felt I could do anything. I hit another two or three washed out roads and just went right on through. Mud and water everywhere, but still going strong. The storms that I thought were moving away from me, weren’t, and it wasn’t long before I moved into the rain. Hills started to be rather worrying, sliding all over the place, and I thanked God for four-wheel drive. I really, really needed it. I didn’t manage to take photos as, to be perfectly honest, I was worried that if I stopped, I might not be able to get moving again.

I was just beginning to wish I’d stuck to paved roads, when up ahead, I saw tarmac. Ah, sweet, wonderful tarmac. As soon as my wheels hit asphalt I stopped, got out, and looked back. The car was muddy, the view spectacular, and my mood elated.

Doesn't look as bad as it is. Honest.

30 (flat and paved) minutes later, I arrive in Flagstaff, check into the Hotel Monte Vista (Esther Williams room), and have a cold, well-deserved beer.

As I walked home under a star filled sky from having one of the best pizzas I’ve ever had (check out Pizzicletta if you’re ever in the area), I could feel my eyelids beginning to close. 

Now, I can feel I can’t stay awake much longer. It must be at least 10 

Oh, it turns out Labor Day is America’s May Day. So there you go. 

New York City to Arizona

As is often the case – in fact it may always be so – opportunity presents itself at the most unexpected times. In this case, 5 days into my holiday, I was made redundant. Admittedly, it wasn’t completely unexpected (we knew changes were afoot, and in total, 30 of us got the boot), but it still requires some thought. As said, it wasn’t a surprise, but what I was surprised at was how much thought I had to give it. It was a weird thing to happen while I was on holiday, and as it was immediate, it meant that I had – in effect – nothing to go home for. Ah ha. Opportunity.

I’m on a flight to Phoenix, Arizona right now. That was always meant to be the case. 8 days in New York City, and then a week – for me alone – in Arizona (if you’re wondering why Arizona, I’ll get to that in a bit). The 8 days in New York were spectacular. Thilde had never been before, and although I’ve been twice before, the last time was in 1999. A lot has changed, and not just the city. I’m a completely different person than I was at 21, and as such, my wants for the city had changed radically. I really did consider this a second first time for myself. We stayed in the Lower East Side, and covered a huge amount of the city. Every day started early, and finished pretty early too, thanks to the double-digits of kilometers we covered on foot every day. I’ll admit that 8 days was just enough for me. Sure I could have stayed longer, but while I loved the city and its diversity, its beat and its life, it reminded me of why I moved out of London. Sprawling cities just drain me. So as we moved our way back to our flat to pick up our bags, I was elated to know that I had a week in the beautiful state of Arizona to look forward to. Although, now, it wasn’t just a week, it was two.

When I received the email letting me know that I was one of the 30 to go, Thilde, the wonder she is, said that I should stay in the US for longer. At first I dismissed the idea, but then, the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. When would I get a chance like this again? I’m already here – or there – so why not? Delta wanted over $4000 to change my flight, but booking an entirely new journey (with a different airline) – return from Copenhagen to Phoenix – proved to be vastly cheaper. So I did it. Two weeks. Just me and the road.

So why Arizona? Most people asked why when I told them about our summer holiday plans, and I understand. I’ve no idea about exact numbers, but I’m willing to bet the majority of visitors to Arizona pop in to see The Grand Canyon and then pop back out again, and what a shame that is. I’ve not covered all of the state, and I won’t do this time either, but I’ve seen enough each time I’ve been to leave me wanting more. I first visited when I was around 13, again when I was 14, once more at 21, and again last year, at 34. The trip that made the biggest impression on me was when I was 14. I don’t know why, but something about it just hooked me. The colours, the vastness, the heat, the feel of the air and the sounds of the desert – all so very foreign to a girl born and bred in the English countryside, but all so oddly comforting at the same time. 

The later trips, while deserving of pages themselves, only cemented the want to return. So here I am. On my way back, but this time alone. It’ll give me time to see the things I want to see, to stop and stare at the things I want to stare at, when I want to stare at them. It’ll help me get it out of my system, and help me get some perspective on things.

We’re currently flying over and between two storm cells. If I wasn’t the nervous flyer that I am, I’d be thrilled. I’m sure in hindsight I’ll think it was brilliant, and it is brilliantly beautiful, I have to admit. If only I was at the window seat I’d take some photos.

It’s hot in Arizona. I’ve got about 2000 miles, or 3000 km, to cover. I’ve gone through all my back issues of Arizona Highways (yes, I'm a subscriber) and made lists of things I want to see and do. I’ve noted down the ghost towns and old mines along my route. I’ve been waiting for this trip for a really long time, and I’m just about to get started.

I’ll admit I’m a bit nervous, but the excitement far, far outweighs it. Thank God for redundancy. 

Entering Arizona in 1999Oh, a side note is that it's Labor Day Weekend here. I have no idea what that is, but I'm sure I'll find out. Something tells me I can't wear white after it. I might rebel. I am, after all, British. 

Arizona 2013

In a very short time I'll be fulfilling a childhood dream. Literally. I'll be spending a week (OK, in my childhood dream it was more like a few months, and by childhood I mean I was 14, but still...) driving around Arizona. Below is my approximate route. Some roads aren't marked on Google Maps, and one is currently closed (damn you 89!), so there's a bit of a detour. I'm going to blog at the end of every day, explaining why Arizona, what I see, where I go and no doubt including a few photos as well, so you're welcome to tag along if you want. 

I'm so excited I can't begin to describe it.