LURE OF THE HORIZON

Surprise, AZ

I was scheduled to fly out mid afternoon which would have put me in Phoenix just in time to get my car, drive to my hotel, and watch the sunset into the desert.  About 30 minutes before my flight the bubbly female voice came over the loudspeaker asking for volunteers to bump to a later flight in exchange for airline credit.

…so I could spend an extra hour in the airport, for a flight I didn’t pay for, and receive free airline credit?  I was the first one to the desk to volunteer.

An hour and a half later I was on my flight, now with a layover in Albuquerque, sitting in a lucky last minute aisle seat, and a travel voucher in my backpack.  The couple next to me must have been in their sixties and appeared to be one of “those” couples that had been together so long that they were mirror images of the same person.  In perfect synchronicity, when the ok was given, they withdrew their iPads, opened their e-reading apps and read from their respective tablets.  Hers was white, his black; a paradox that distracted my entire flight.  My attention was briefly broken by a lady standing in the aisle right behind me who was attempting to calm her crying baby by rocking it with the ferocity of a child with a stubborn etch-a-sketch.  I didn’t rest much between Kansas City and Albequirqie.

After the layover, my notebook had one entry from the flight into Phoenix:

“If the overly effeminate flight attendant puts his junk on my shoulder one more time, I’m going to pinball machine pull that little thing.”

Arizona was dark when I arrived.  I checked out my rental Kia SUV, made my way to Grand Avenue, and headed north into Surprise.  After checking into the luxurious Comfort Inn I immediately left in search of some quality southwestern Mexican food.  I quickly found that Surprise is somewhat of a sleepy town and the sidewalks had been rolled up by 9:00. 

I found Macayos which, after sitting down, I learned has about a thousand locations in Arizona and Vegas.  Oh well, the important facts are that they were open and they had 12 dollar margaritas served in the hat of a ceramic Mexican woman.  The food was good, but no more special than anywhere else I had eaten, and the margarita was big enough that I had brain freeze and a burning gut by the time I threw in the towel.  Back at the hotel the rest of my evening was spent searching the Internet for access to hiking trails in the nearby White Tank Mountains.

One hour before sunrise I woke, threw on my bright yellow Washington D.C. Marine Corps 10k long sleeve mock turtle neck and drove thirty minutes into the darkness.  I drove to White Tank Mountain Regional Park which is 30,000 acres of protected desert mountains.  It has a gift shop, hiking trails, and a few campsites.  The park technically wasn’t open yet, but there was a guy in the booth who allowed me to pay my $6 entry fee and drive up the mountain. 

My headlights found a sign that said “Waddell Trail” so I pulled over, locked up the Kia, and jogged up the trail.  The sun was about a half an hour from climbing above the eastern horizon so there was just enough light to illuminate the trail.  About a hundred yards up the trail I stopped for moment.  Silence.  Not just quiet; but silence.  It wasn’t warm.  It wasn’t cool.  There was no wind to speak of.  I held my breath.  Complete silence.  I was basking in the moment when I suddenly recalled passing several Mountain Lion and snake warning signs before I found the trail.  If one of them got a hold of me, it would be days before someone started to smell my remains.  I proceeded up the mountain.

The crunch of the dry ground beneath my Nikes was the only sound.  I passed through fields of cactus that were surrounded by colorless mountains that made me feel like I was on a movie set.  I was short on time because I actually had to “work”, so I decided I would run for twenty five minutes into the desert, take a few minutes to enjoy being surrounded by the Sonoran desert and then run the twenty five minutes back. 

On cue, I reached my stopping point, turned and looked down the valley, and saw the sun just beginning to break the horizon.  It was hypnotizing.  I’ve seen sunrise in the mountains and over the ocean, but never across a desert.  It was a different kind of beautiful.  The silhouetted cactus and rock formations became softly illuminated.  The sky revealed deep set blues and oranges that I had never seen before.  I took pictures, but as often is the case, they don’t do it justice. 

Feeling a renewed sense of tranquility I sadly paused at the car, looked out over the desert mountains, drew a deep breath and left the park. 

The rest of my Arizona time was basically spent doing the job I was sent there to do.  I stopped for a brief lunch at Jim’s Burgers and Eggs (More out of morbid curiosity than anything).  I am sad to report that it was mediocre and a truly forgettable meal.  I did stop back by the park for another brief hike.  I loved my short time in the desert, but knew I couldn’t stay for great lengths.  The saltwater would miss me. 

…about 24 hours after I arrived in Phoenix, I was boarding the plane and leaving again.  I feel a post coming on about what this job is doing to my travel habits. 

Next stop:  …TBD