A Vibrantly Arid Land

The hot inscouciant Tucson sun kissed my face as I pulled out of the airport in my white Nissan Sentra. I've been anticipating this trip ever since I found out that the next SRI in the Rockies conference was conveniently taking place in this desert. I couldn't resist taking a few days to explore the city and its peaceful, yet intriguing topography before being committed to indoor sessions on the latest trends in my industry. I'm excited about my conference and elated for the opportunity to explore a new part of the country of which I know very little.

With the Eagles' 'Take it easy" blasting on my radio I cruise on Interstate 10 going North toward Saguaro National Park. My handy Yahoo directions take me to a desert paradise. Before I set off on my mini pre-conference weekend get-away I read Arizona is a place to get away and recharge, to restore the body and reenergize the soul. How perfect! A sharp drop in temperatures, ominous clouds, and cold rain in New York City had me craving the sun, and a little dry heat. In late October, Tucson offers that and more. After about 15 minutes, I drive past the Saguaro National Park sign welcoming me to the aptly named preserve of seemingly insidious terrain of prickly anthropomorphic saguaros, and other smaller species of cacti, rattle snakes, and rolling hills of dry desert sand. How so much life can sustain itself here escapes me and my soul is awed by its abundance. The desert, with its rolling mustard yellow hills and faraway mountains is resplendent with saguaros standing erect and sprinkled throughout the luscious yet dry topography.

Having entered the reserve, I swerve off the asphalt road onto a desolate dirt pathway thinking perhaps N. Sandario Road, as my Yahoo directions indicated, was unmarked. With an unabating sense of adventure and anxious to snap photographs I decide to take a chance and drive into the ostensibly innocuous territory. Fearless, curious, excited I drive deeper; my senses heightened. The road continues interminably, but I can't help seizing the chance to capture the raw, dry beauty that envelopes me. About half a mile in, I stop the car, and carefully get out, camera in hand. The sun glares down on me as if it has nothing else to do, but gape at me hopelessly as if to say "girlie, there ain't no escapin, it's just you me and the saguaros." A bit perturbed by an almost erie silence, I shun my growing anxiousness that absolutely anything could happen to me at this moment and no one would ever come to my rescue, and turn on my camera. As soon as I do, I begin to play. At that moment I realize the desert is mine and a wide grin embellishes my face. Just as quickly, I get attacked by thorns! (I later learn how relentless the desert cacti are to careless hikers like me.) Needle thin thorns shoot into my calf. I pinch them one by one and the tingling sensation dissipates. Hey, it could have been worse.

I inhale the crisp air and stand silently observing my surroundings. The indigenous people say they listen to the desert, that it speaks to them. Knowing that my little Nissan is just a few yards away, I close my eyes and tune into the sounds of the desert. A peaceful serenity comes over me as I listen to the wind whisper and swoosh. The desert has a stirring silence. Underneath its calm, life innocently and proudly flutters its wings. I take in the openness. As wild as my imagination gets at times, for a moment I feel like I'm lovingly embraced. I feel safe. But, of course, as is typical for me, a frightening thought pops into my head, and I feel I need to get back into the shelter of my car, and keep driving.

I continue down this path for about a mile longer, stopping intermittently to snap photos, before, against my better judgement, I decide to turn around and head back on to a populated road. I'm thankful I got lost, however, as this little diversion afforded me a series of incredible shots of the desert.

Eventually I find the visitor center. When you're driving around and there's nothing around you except human-like, yet silent as stone, saguaros and houses that look like they're devoid of any inhabitants, that visitor center feels like a refuge. I watch a not-so-memorable yet somewhat touching video on the desert, pick up a map, and set off for another desolate path. This one turns out to be slightly more populated with adventure and photo op seekers like me. Feeling safer this time around, I become more attuned to the shapes of saguaros. One has two arms curled up toward the sky and looks like he's about to take a swing at another, also with two arms, but looking like he's surrendering. Two are embracing each other like old buds and look as if they're about to skip across the dessert, laughing. I hop in and out of my car before I realize the golden hour has hit and I have a date with the sunset at Gates Pass, a scenic viewpoint recommended to me by a plethora of Tucson

fans.

I take Kinney Road out of the park to the swervy Gates Pass Road and hit my destination at optimal sunset time. I climb up to a rocky point that presents the most breathtaking view of the Sonoran Desert. I take it in quietly. As I peer down below me, I see a steep (and most likely deadly) drop that leads the way to a valley of saguaros, some clustered together in little communities looking as if they're about to start walking in search of a desert oasis. This is a must-see for anyone who wants to enjoy a brief respite from an earlier hike and an unforgettable sunset before dinner.

That evening I reconnect with my friend Aaron from college who graciously offered to lend me his couch for two nights. We have dinner with his friends and retired early. At midnight, I lie my head on a plump pillow and fall asleep almost instantly.

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The next day an early afternoon hike at the Pima Canyon awaited our footsteps. Pima Canyon is situated in the picturesque Catalina Mountains. It is one of the easier hikes in the area and offers picturesque views of the city not too far away.

I would not recommend hiking in the early afternoon when the sun is strongest, especially because you’ll find yourself in the middle of the desert, the gruesome sun shining down relentlessly, and without any shelter from the shade. Thankfully for us the weather gods offered temperatures in the mid-80’s (this is considered fair weather in Tucson) and after about half-hour or so of hiking among prickly cacti, sand, and thorny bushes, we stumbled upon a little shaded sanctuary. A lone tree with luscious green leaves graced us with relief from the sun’s heat. We sat reminiscing and admiring the intrepid beauty of the desert.

Our next stop: the aptly named, Degrazia in the Sun Gallery, an absolute must-see for anyone visiting Tucson, or for that matter, locals who have passed it all their lives and never entered. Aaron had never been so it was an absolute treat to enjoy it with him. The Gallery, formerly

the home of artist Ted Degrazia, features an eclectic compendium of his work ranging from oils, to watercolors, to sketches, to sculptures, to jewelry. The expressionistic adobe walls of the gallery made of adobe bricks baked in the Tucson sun seem to emit a soft soothing glow. It is by far the most stunning presentation of an artist's work that I've ever seen. You enter the Gallery through bejeweled metal mine-shaft doors built into the side walls almost askew, and immediately admire the playfully grayish interior that welcomes you. You travel through the artist's lifetime as you meander in and out of a maze of rooms.

When we left the Gallery, having only consumed breakfast, we had a craving for a mid-afternoon indulgence. Aaron had been raving about these Sonoran style hot dogs, and while it has been a years since I've succumbed to my hot dog cravings, I couldn't resist the temptation. The New York Times coincidentally published an article about this distinctly Mexican-American treat. In the article, one local fervently noted the best hot dogs come from Sonora, located directly south of Tucson. Hotdogueros, these typically peripatetic carts, abound in the city, but we made a pit-stop at the El Guero Canelo, a newly built restaurant and a champion of Sonoran style dogs! Just over $2 a piece, these babies are wrapped in a blanket of paper-thin bacon and covered by a medley of Mexican condiments; a squirt of mustard and mayonnaise glistens on top. It's an explosion of Mexican-American goodness!

The rest of my stay in Tucson was spent at a conference, but my time in the city came full circle with a colorful sunrise on my last day. I tore myself out of bed at 6:00am to witness a colorful illumination of the Tucson sky. The JW Marriott Starr Pass Resort and Spa which situated to the west of the city, is blessed with a courtyard overlooking Tucson and its surrounding undulating topography. The quiescent morning bestowed a riveting sunrise. It took 45 minutes for the sky to flow from a warm glow of lavender purple, to flamingo pink, to cantaloupe orange, to starfruit yellow. As the sun peered over the horizon, this beautiful city was ready for another sunny day and in my heart I felt beyond grateful for the privilege to travel.