One of the people who politely pretends to enjoy my blog asked me last week if I would be adding a new post anytime soon. I told her that I've reached the point where I only add content at the end of the year and when I'm traveling (because I'm washed up / jaded / apathetic / etc.), but that the next time I traveled anywhere of note I would try to put something together.
So here we are.
On Monday, I took Hollis to Tucson for a whirlwind, 2 1/2 day Spring Break tour of the very best part of the desert Southwest. Various subsets of our family used to travel back to the area fairly often after our departure in 1994. I went by myself probably 5-6 times, Paige and I went together 2-3 times, we took the kids a couple of times (once before and once after Hollis was born, I think), and I took Reagan during Spring Break of his senior year in high school. Hollis remembered absolutely nothing from the only time he had been -- which, I believe, was when he was three -- so I thought it would be fun to take him. I was right.
Immediately after landing on Monday, we went to Whataburger. Hollis had no idea that they even have Whataburger in Arizona (they most emphatically DO NOT have Whataburger in Kansas) and this particular reality unquestionably was the high water mark of the trip for him. Those of you who know Hollis well will understand completely. For the rest of you, I'll explain with an example. Hollis flew back to San Antonio this past October to go to Alamo Heights Homecoming with a girl he knew / adored from 8th grade. When he arrived at her house, she surprised him with a giant homemade sign that read "What-a-NIGHT it would be if you went to HOMECOMING with me!" ... complete with the trademark Whataburger "W." Yes, for real.
During our travels we ate at Whataburger for lunch three times and for breakfast once. Those four meals outpaced the three at my favorite Mexican restaurants, providing incontrovertible evidence that I am, in fact, a great parent. Importantly, however, we did make it to Villa Mexican Restaurant on Ina (aka The Best Mexican Restaurant On Earth). I was a little concerned that I would break down in public after having been subjected to Kansas Mexican food (aka the Worst Mexican Food On Earth Except for a Very Memorable Restaurant in Scotland) for the past nine months, but I managed to keep things together OK. Villa opened in the early 1990s when we were living about two miles away, and we were frequent patrons. The two people working there when Hollis and I went on Wednesday afternoon were two of the originals from way back when. That made me happy. I am also glad to say that they still don't have a website (although apparently they do have a Facebook page).
Other aspects of our trip exhibited yin and yang similar to that of the restaurant situation. On Tuesday morning, we drove to Madera Canyon and hiked a portion of the trail to Mount Wrightson. The full trail, which I completed twice while I was in grad school, starts at around 5,400 feet, ends at the summit at about 9,400 feet, and runs 13 miles roundtrip. Hollis and I managed the 7.5 mile Josephine Saddle (elev. 7,100) roundtrip but thought better of continuing to the top (pictured below, from our turnaround point at Josephine Saddle). He was a good sport about things, but he definitely is the least adventurous of our pack. So ... we went to movies in the evening as compensation (i.e., yang).
On Wednesday morning, we drove the Catalina Highway to Mount Lemmon. Mount Lemmon is to the Santa Catalina mountains (north) what Mount Wrightson is to the Santa Rita mountains (south). Hollis's .... errr ... enthusiasm for walking around was substantially lower than it had been on the previous day, so I cut the morning's trek to about an hour. He appreciated that. He also appreciated / was dumbfounded by a few individuals' willingness to "risk killing themselves" (his words) at a couple of the vistas on the way to the top. As someone who is not a fan of heights, I do appreciate and generally echo his sentiment. I don't have any issues while hiking in the high country -- a notable exception being an exposed section of a trail in Alberta that I hiked with Hunter when he was 10 or 11 (complete with me having to lie flat against the upper slope for 10 minutes to regain my composure while he calmly tossed pebbles into what seemed to be a bottomless chasm) -- but things like this (below)? No way. Never mind people who actually climb and camp on sheer rock faces. At any rate, as compensation for a half day in the Catalinas and that evening's long-awaited (by me) 90-minute stroll in the desert, we split the afternoon between another movie and a terrific miniature golf course that Paige and I used to frequent.
Last, but certainly not least, I introduced Hollis to my favorite place on earth -- the country surrounding the eastern third of Park Link Drive between Highway 79 to Florence and I-10 to Phoenix (about 40 minutes northwest of Tucson). Long-time readers know that virtually all of our family vacations have involved the U.S. or Canadian Rockies. Furthermore, the older I get the more that I strongly prefer traveling internationally. All that being said, on any given day there is nothing I would rather be doing than walking around here ...
I tell my kids all the time that I never believe anything anymore because everything either is or can be Photoshopped. This isn't. This is what the upper Sonoran desert actually looks like shortly before sunset. And of all the many desert areas in which I've hiked and/or chased Gambel's quail in the company of a Labrador Retriever, this particular section off of Park Link Drive is the absolute best. It's also terrific that the area is still essentially undeveloped. The full 18-mile stretch of road between Highway 79 and I-10 is now paved, which is unfortunate, but there are only a handful of houses (due, presumably, to the lack of available water). Overall, the area's appeal to me likely is driven by a perfect storm of nostalgia, uniqueness, and lack of people. But it is a very special place. And although Hollis didn't entirely get it, he got it enough.
So ... I would say that the trip was an unqualified success. Apart from during the plane ride out and the plane ride back, I didn't work for three days. Hollis and I got quality (and quantity) time together. He had a pretty good time doing the things I wanted to do and I had a good time doing the things he wanted to do. And last but certainly not least, we got to eat Whataburger and really good Mexican food.
I'm hoping that Paige and I will be able to do something this summer and that we might also be able to get the band back together again for the first real family vacation in several years. If one or both of those things happen, you'll be the first to know.
Peace,
Mike
