Standing on the Corner in Winslow Arizona......

Why? Why Arizona in July?  Why?

Overall:  The Third Circle of Hell

Only one thing could draw us to Arizona in the ghastly heat of summer.... the always heartwarming, often hysterical, Three Year Fowler Family Reunion. We were in Flagstaff which has some altitude so the temperature was maybe Circle One of Hell. The reunions have been going on since 1978 at various points across the country and involve the convening of between 60 and 80 happy (mostly) Fowlerites.  Festivities vary but generally include a wine tasting, softball, golf, hiking, beer drinking, water sports and children running in all directions about 16 hours a day.   Much fun.  A couple of pictures to illustrate.

Our niece's husband Devin provided music during the wine tasting.

The wine tasting always attracts an enthusiastic crowd.

The softball game is a ritual at every reunion...

with even the young ones participating, while we who are more mature cheer them on.

Cousin Liz with her husband Josh and another member of the family on the way.

A contingent of the family rode the train to the Grand Canyon.

Pictures cannot really capture the awe one first experiences seeing the canyon.

On the train our conductor pointed out an often overlooked feature, which is this 7 placed there by Mother Nature.

Kissing rocks balance against one another.

Even the trees show the harsh environment at the edge of the canyon.

An amazing number of people taking photographs with the canyon in the background risk stepping back a little too far, with disastrous consequences.

Day One:  Six (maybe Seventh)  Circle of  Hell.  108 degrees

We flew to Las Vegas because it was faster, cheaper and we could rendezvous with son Alex who was at the Mexican Consulate there obtaining his temporale visa (yeah!). We walked out of the terminal and nearly keeled over.  The high that day was 108 but that wasn't really the heat indexed reading which was probably 10 degrees higher.  How do people LIVE there?  We got to the hotel (with picked up Alex), cranked the air conditioning and did....nothing.  Well, after a while I got bored so decided to go to the pool.  Whoever invented the game Marco Polo should be drawn (or drowned) and quartered --several times. As a zillion kids splashed and shouted the explorer's name tsunami sized waves cascaded over me.  I gave up, took my toys and went home.  Children in Mexico do NOT play Marco Polo.  It is a civilized society.

The next morning (already in the 90s) I decided on a dip before hitting the road.  Well, what a surprise!  Over night millions, if not billions, of grasshoppers had descended on Las Vegas and most of them, it appeared ended up in the hotel pool.  I was going to swim, damn it.  I skimmed and skimmed and finally just jumped in and scooped them out with my bare hands and threw them on the pool skirt. My antics proved to be the breakfast amusement for the droves dining on the other side of the poolside window.  No one made eye contact with me after that.  Fine with me.  We fled to Flagstaff and the reunion to seek some relief.

So What Did You Do At the Reunion?

These reunions feature family bonding time but also subgroups mosey off to pursue varying interests.  Our nuclear family favors the strange and/or bizarre.  So we set off.  Justin (drove in from LA), Alex, Michael and I decided to take in the old Route 66.  Our first stop was The Apache Death Cave and Two Guns -- both Atlas Obscura finds.  First, the Apache Death Cave.  In 1878, Apache Raiders attacked a Navajo encampment and killed everybody except three young girls who became prisoners.  Navajos from other encampments sent out scouts to track down the Apaches.  They had no luck until they experienced a blast of hot air coming from an underground cave where the Apaches were holed up.  They returned in force and killed the two Apache watchmen. They then  started a fire at the cave's entrance to smoke them out.  The Apaches (really NOT nice) slit the throats of their horses and stacked them up near the entrance to thwart the Navajos but the smoke finally got them.  Only one Apache made it out and when the Navajos found out that the three girls had been killed they killed him too.  Well, we never did find the trail into the canyon that led to the Cave so we never got to see horse bones or anything.  But the Cave Canyon was right next to Two Guns so now on to Two Guns.

 Two Guns was a town that started as a trading post and lodging stop for pioneers heading West in the early 1900s.  The owners leased 10 acres of their land to a guy named Harry Miller who was "an eccentric man who claimed to be 100 per cent Apache and was known for his garish and unpleasant demeanor."   Somehow Miller got a hold of the trading post and turned it into what was probably Arizona's first tourist trap.  He established a zoo and enterprisingly began offering tours to the Apache Death Cave.  He grew his hair long and braided it and became more eccentric.  He sold the skulls of the Apaches as tourist trinkets.  Then, in cold blood, he murdered the owner of the land he leased.  Inexplicably he was acquitted of the murder but the Curse of Two Guns began.  I'll just list what happened in order:

1) Miller was mauled by the mountain lion in his zoo;
2) Miller was mauled by the mountain lion AGAIN;
3) He was bitten by a poisonous Gila Monster and his arm became seriously injured;
4) A huge fire gutted the trading post
5) Route 66 was rerouted and Two Guns became a Ghost Town.

The remains of the mountain lions' enclosure.

The remains of many buildings littered the area.

This abandoned gas station at Two Guns became graffiti artists' canvas.

Speaking of Tourist Traps....

I will say that tourist traps are alive and well in Arizona.  The Jack Rabbit Trading Post (also Route 66) almost defines tourist trap. While the Standing on the Corner statue (think Eagles) was just a stroke of luck which resulted in thousands of people driving to take a picture next to the statue in a town whose only claim to fame is being a major switching center for freight trains.  Now, to continue in the tourist trap vein....

The Jack Rabbit Trading Post featuring the glory days of Route 66 - The Mother Road.

Deirdre atop the Jack Rabbit.

La Posada Hotel in Winslow, AZ was a famous stop for train passengers. It was designed by Mary Elizabeth Jane Colter, the famous architect for the Fred Harvey Co.

Deirdre & Alex relaxing under the pergola at the hotel...

and Justin standin' on the corner.

One side trip some of our group took was to the Rock Art Canyon Ranch, which is in the middle of nowhere southeast of Winslow.

The owner of the ranch, Brantley Baird, fascinated the children (and adults) with his stories about the ranch and the many artifacts found on the ranch by himself and archeologists. Brantley is 80+ years old.

The displays of animals found on the ranch was fascinating, although some members of the group could do without the reminders of the snakes.

Authentic re-creations of the native American dwellings demonstrated their ability to survive and keep cool in this harsh environment.

The most spectacular part of the tour of the ranch was the astounding number of ancient petroglyphs on the rocks (thus the name of the ranch). This is just an example of a couple of areas.

Crystals, Vortexes and Fifth Level of Hell Heat

While sipping a glass of wine in our temperate Ajijic climate, we decided it would be a shame to go to Arizona and not go to the Red Rock Country around Sedona.  So, after the reunion we headed 45 minutes south and moved into our casita that had an amazing view of the Red Rocks.  Sedona is such a weird place in so many ways.  First there are at least 6 shops on each block selling crystals and various channeling enablers and a lot of onyx (I don't know what that is about).  So you would think these people are navel gazing, non-materialistic, spiritual types.  Well, then I don't know how you explain the ten boutiques, curio and coffee and jewelry shops on each block.  I guess the town was "quaint" once but now it is just another cheesy tourist trap.  I know I'm harsh but I'm just trying to save you the effort of trying to beat your way through a town that you don't want to be in.  Now, outside of town is a different story.  Michael took a million pictures that will explain visually the beauty upon which we feasted our eyes.  I think the best day we had in Sedona was when we found a creek that was blessedly unpopulated and threw ourselves into the cold, clear water while staring at the Red Rocks in all their glory..

This sign says it all.

Before we were able to check into our casita we rented, we visited Tlaquepaque (in Sedona). It was mainly high end artists shops, restaurants, retail stores, etc. However it also had some amazing sculptures.

Sedona is notable for its amazing colorful rock formations in addition to its vortices.

While we managed to visit all of the vortices during our stay, Deirdre felt the best vibes soaking her feet in this cool stream.

The Sedona sunsets did not disappoint with some very colorful displays.

So, Just One More Horror Story

We were getting to the end of the trip and both had, of course, come down with raging sinus infections -- it's more fun if you suffer together.  Having little energy and a complete aversion to any more heat, Michael came up with a plan.  We would drive 2 and 1/2 hours north in our air conditioned vehicle to where Horseshoe Bend occurs in the Colorado River.  I began my whining protests about drive times, heat, "it's just a BEND in a RIVER" but Michael prevailed by saying that he was sure it was a scenic overlook and I would not have to get out of the car into the heat and I could sleep in the car and maybe he'd even stop at a junk food restaurant if I pleaded.  I said OK. Drive...drive...drive...sleep..sleep... stop at McDonald's -- everything going according to plan.

We pull up to the window where you pay.  Wait!  You have to pay for a scenic overlook?  Oh, it's not a scenic overlook.  You have to hike a mile and a half to see the famed Horseshoe Bend.  The lady taking our money says:  "You're in luck.  It's only in the high 90s right now.  I hope you have hats, sunscreen and a lot of water."  Michael nods yes and pays while I shake my head no frantically. Michael assures me it will be fine and if I "tire" we can return to the car.  Right.  I know how that works.  I stumble up the first hill.  Michael has donated his hat to me at some point.  I fear I will faint.  I see a "shade station" to the right.  I look him in the eye and say:  "It's over Bucko.  I am sitting there.  If you perish I will not look for you.  Have a good time."  I'm sitting next to a woman who looks as peeved as I am.  I attempt to commiserate but she says. "Ooh, perdon, je ne comprend pas."  I launch into my pathetic French which is now liberally spiced with Spanish and some Spanglish words.  She squints her eyes trying to understand me but amazingly we do communicate.  So here is what is weird.  There were many, many, in fact beaucoup, Frenchies wandering the west.  And they were NOT from Quebec.  I am not exaggerating in saying that we saw, and heard, hundreds of them.  Here's what we figure.  Francois and Yvette are sitting sipping espresso, smoking Gallois and reading Le Monde when she says: "Eh, Francois, it says in the paper that Paris will be 107 degrees next week.  We might as well go to Arizona." And off thousands of them went.

In addition to the famous Horseshoe Bend...

we also visited Glen Canyon dam.

Ruins, Ruins, Ruins - We Saw a Bunch

Arizona  appears to have been the Times Square of the West.  There were a bunch of different indigenous tribes at a bunch of different times and it was difficult to keep them and their time frames all straight.  So, we'll just put in some photos and take a stab at who lived where and when and forgive us if we are totally wrong...thanks.

The lava fields in the Sunset Crater Volcano National Monument were spectacular...

and led us to the Wupatki National Monument. The buildings constructed by the native Americans date back to 1100 AD.

The builders took advantage of large existing rock formations...

and even built a ball court.

The eroded rocks in the area made for interesting photographic subjects.

The Tuzigoot National Monument above the Verde River preserves a 2 -3 story pueblo which once had 110 rooms.

Back to Shangri-la

We deplaned in Guadalajara and breathed deeply.  Our lungs did not seer, our eyes did not squint, our bodies did not sweat disgustingly.  We were home to our usual 78 degrees and low humidity.  Praise Allah!  We had a great time seeing everyone and sharing our sinus infections but we were truly thrilled to be back home.  For about a month.  More on that soon.

I leave you with a photo of the Hummingbird Clearwing moth (Hemaris Thysbe) captured on our trip. Note the size of the proboscis to drink the nectar from the flowers.