I flew to the desert on a plane with no name
It felt good to get out of Spo-Kane
If you sang that terrible parody of America’s 1971 hit in your head while you read it, you are my people.
And you are old.
I can say things like that now because earlier this month, I celebrated my 60th birthday.
As the milestone approached, I told my husband the only thing I wanted was to go someplace warmer. Since Spokane’s average monthly temperature in February is 32 degrees, that gave us plenty of options.
While investigating destinations, our choice became obvious. Friends who winter in Oro Valley, Arizona, have been asking us to visit for years, and aside from spending time at the Phoenix airport on my way to somewhere else, I’d never been to Arizona.
We booked the trip. When we left Spokane, the high was 28 degrees. When we arrived in Oro Valley, the high was 85. I found my someplace warmer!
After checking into our hotel, we set out for dinner at an iconic institution with a devoted following. That’s right. I visited In-n-Out Burger for the first time. A huge line of cars waited at the drive-thru, so we opted to dine in. I enjoyed an excellent cheeseburger and some mediocre fries and left satisfied but mystified by the fanatic fandom of this chain.
Derek understood it.
“It’s good, it’s fast and it’s cheap,” he said.
The next day, we drove to Dan and Connie’s condo. Derek graduated from Saguaro High School in Scottsdale, Arizona, so he might have grown a tad tired of my constant cacti commentary.
“Oh! A tall pokey one! Look! Short squatty ones! Hey! That one’s giving us the finger!”
A purple prickly pear near our friends’ front door tickled me.
“You can’t escape the Lilac City,” I said.
After a lovely lunch on their patio, we took a sunny stroll along a nearby walking/biking path. My cacti enthusiasm waned when Dan pointed out a fluffy-looking specimen.
“Don’t get too close,” he warned. “That’s a jumping cactus.”
Turns out Connie found out the hard way about the Jumping Cholla when her arm barely brushed one. She ended up pulling several painful spines from her arm.
It might be cold in Spokane, but at least our plants don’t attack us.
Later, we enjoyed a sunset dinner at a restaurant at one of Tucson’s 40 golf courses. Our patio table faced the Catalina Mountains. Their beautiful maroon, gold, amber and pink tones were nothing like the snow-shrouded Selkirks we’d left behind.
We dined outdoors for every meal except breakfast and always sat at a table facing that breathtaking vista. You can’t do that in Spokane in February.
The rest of our trip was spent exploring with our friends and on our own. Dan and Derek visited the Titan Missile Museum and the Pima Air and Space Museum, while Connie and I lunched at another golf resort and then toured model homes to see what’s trending in home décor.
She dropped me back at the hotel so I could do one of my favorite things – read a book by the pool.
Derek and I spent a morning at Gates Pass at Tucson Mountain Park, where I sustained a hiking injury. OK, I tripped over a curb at a scenic overlook and scraped my elbow – same thing!
The stark landscape with its vast solitude, the play of the light at different times of day, and the brilliant blue skies fed my soul while the sun warmed my skin.
Rejuvenated, I returned home to embrace the start of my sixties. We arrived just in time for Spokane to get an entire winter’s snowfall in three days.
Before this trip, I’d never understood the desert’s allure. I love the four seasons of the Pacific Northwest – but as I shoveled heavy, wet snow from our driveway, I thought of our friends sipping coffee on their patio.
Maybe you have to be a certain age to appreciate the resilient beauty of the desert.
Cindy Hval 