Blogging on a corner in Winslow, Arizona
I got seven empty days on my mind.... I started driving north on Sunday, and later that day, I finally mapped out all the destinations I want to hit before I arrive in NY for Thanksgiving. I found out that I had about 7 extra days! So I'm still here in Arizona, taking my time.
Saturday night, I hit up the Halloween weekend action of Tucson. I finally settled at the goth club Asylum where the music was good for dancing and I fit in the best in my velvet vampire costume (the best I could do considering my limited wardrobe.) I danced a ton and met some locals and wound up at 3am at their house playing Playstation, eating rice and drinking Schlitz. I finally made it back to the hostel at 5am, only to be woken up at 8:30 by the breakfast commotion. I was a bit tired. . .
Got my act together, did some laundry and made it out of the hostel just in time for the mandatory checkout at 11am. After finally rolling out of Tucson, I tried to avoid the interstate by taking Route 77 north. I was contemplating how tired I was when, as if in a magical vision, a sign came over the horizon. It was small, green and said simply:
Saturday night, I hit up the Halloween weekend action of Tucson. I finally settled at the goth club Asylum where the music was good for dancing and I fit in the best in my velvet vampire costume (the best I could do considering my limited wardrobe.) I danced a ton and met some locals and wound up at 3am at their house playing Playstation, eating rice and drinking Schlitz. I finally made it back to the hostel at 5am, only to be woken up at 8:30 by the breakfast commotion. I was a bit tired. . .
Got my act together, did some laundry and made it out of the hostel just in time for the mandatory checkout at 11am. After finally rolling out of Tucson, I tried to avoid the interstate by taking Route 77 north. I was contemplating how tired I was when, as if in a magical vision, a sign came over the horizon. It was small, green and said simply:
Biosphere2 20 miles
A forgotten childhood dream of visiting the Biosphere reemerged! The miles melted as I approached the facility-- fully expecting to be completely disappointed. Thankfully, the tour proved to be more than I expected. Turns out that research was suspended 2 years ago when the grant money ran out. As sad as that is (and it will be sadder still if they don't get new funding and have to shut down the facility), the upside is that visitors actually get to tour the inside of the Biosphere2. I was glad to see that they didn't shy away from explaining the Biosphere's controversial history, and awed by the behind the scenes tour of what makes the facility run. If you're ever near Tucson, go.
After the Biosphere, I was elated but pooped, so when I rolled into the grubby mining town of Globe and found a relatively clean motel room for $21, I decided to call it a night-- having traveled just 100 miles from Tucson. I spent a few hours eating dinner and beer at Kelly's Broad Street Brewery in the derelict downtown strip (interestingly, I don't think they actually brew beer at the brewery). Dinner, however, was very good and Kelly, the owner was friendly. I passed the time learning Spanish from a Michel Thomas kit that Rich gave me. Holy crap, I can speak Spanish! His course actually lives up to the hype.
Crashed out back at the motel, actually watched an episode of Smallville for the first time. It's a soap opera for geeks that aren't nerdy enough for Star Trek, complete with scenery melting dialogue.
Woke up yesterday semi-refreshed from a sleep lulled by the soothing sound of interstate commerce a mere 10 feet from my room window. Grogilly, I had breakfast at the local elderly infested diner and set off toward Jerome. Ohhhh, Jerome!
Coming up from Cottonwood, you don't expect much, but then as you come around the bend, a small mountain side town appears a la Italy. Jerome is known for its resident artists, and didn't disappoint from my first moments in town. I pulled off at the first gallery, the enormous old hospital that now houses the studio of Robin John Anderson and his wife Margo Mandette. While I was wandering around (and looking at 12' paintings going for $12,000), Robin found me and invited me upstairs to watch him "bite his new etching". An hour later, we concluded our teriffic conversation about his art and my travels and I left feeling very welcome in Jerome.
Next, I popped in to the old high school that had been converted into a set of open studios and found a similarly engaging experience with the artists there (who will please excuse me if I'm forgetting their names at the moment. I'll update this entry when I get it sorted out).
With the sun setting across the valley on the red towers above Sedona, I wound up into downtown, enjoyed a great burger and margaritas and relaxed into the evening. Fed and full, I headed up the hill to the forest service roads to pitch my tent on the slopes of Mt Mingus amongst the pines at about 7500'. I went back to town and checked out the big Halloween party at the Grand Hotel for a few hours before getting tired and going back up to my tent and my first good night's sleep in days.
This morning, I took a little autumnal hike to the Mt Mingus peak and enjoyed the perfect crisp weather-- the breeze would have been too cold if not for the bright sun on my skin and clothes. Back in Jerome, I visited some more local galleries, and while particlarly admiring some striking works at that artists's co-op, the artist himself wandered into the gallery. R.V. Lovelace was very friendly, and again I found myself talking for 30 minutes or so with the actual authority. Jerome affords unique oppotunities. I purchased some of Lovelace's prints and a painted agave Paho mask for my folks.
Finally, on my way out of town, I stopped in at the outfitter's shop and asked about local climbing areas. Morgan, the proprietor (in what had become typical Jerome fashion), spent the next 20 minutes with me divulging all sorts of secrets on climbing areas and hidden camping spots throughout the region. On his advice, I decided to call Rob and postpone my arrival in ABQ so that I might spend the next day or two at the acclaimed, yet still unpopular climbing area of Jacks Canyon. 30 miles south of Winslow, AZ where I sit now, having spent waay too much money on a splendid meal of perfectly cooked Elk loin, roasted southwest vegetables, bean and corn soup, perfect vanilla ice cream and a double Grey Goose on the rocks. Shortly I'll drive down to the camp at the Canyon, pitch my tent and start the process of bartering cold beer for climbing partners. Life is tough.
A forgotten childhood dream of visiting the Biosphere reemerged! The miles melted as I approached the facility-- fully expecting to be completely disappointed. Thankfully, the tour proved to be more than I expected. Turns out that research was suspended 2 years ago when the grant money ran out. As sad as that is (and it will be sadder still if they don't get new funding and have to shut down the facility), the upside is that visitors actually get to tour the inside of the Biosphere2. I was glad to see that they didn't shy away from explaining the Biosphere's controversial history, and awed by the behind the scenes tour of what makes the facility run. If you're ever near Tucson, go.
After the Biosphere, I was elated but pooped, so when I rolled into the grubby mining town of Globe and found a relatively clean motel room for $21, I decided to call it a night-- having traveled just 100 miles from Tucson. I spent a few hours eating dinner and beer at Kelly's Broad Street Brewery in the derelict downtown strip (interestingly, I don't think they actually brew beer at the brewery). Dinner, however, was very good and Kelly, the owner was friendly. I passed the time learning Spanish from a Michel Thomas kit that Rich gave me. Holy crap, I can speak Spanish! His course actually lives up to the hype.
Crashed out back at the motel, actually watched an episode of Smallville for the first time. It's a soap opera for geeks that aren't nerdy enough for Star Trek, complete with scenery melting dialogue.
Woke up yesterday semi-refreshed from a sleep lulled by the soothing sound of interstate commerce a mere 10 feet from my room window. Grogilly, I had breakfast at the local elderly infested diner and set off toward Jerome. Ohhhh, Jerome!
Coming up from Cottonwood, you don't expect much, but then as you come around the bend, a small mountain side town appears a la Italy. Jerome is known for its resident artists, and didn't disappoint from my first moments in town. I pulled off at the first gallery, the enormous old hospital that now houses the studio of Robin John Anderson and his wife Margo Mandette. While I was wandering around (and looking at 12' paintings going for $12,000), Robin found me and invited me upstairs to watch him "bite his new etching". An hour later, we concluded our teriffic conversation about his art and my travels and I left feeling very welcome in Jerome.
Next, I popped in to the old high school that had been converted into a set of open studios and found a similarly engaging experience with the artists there (who will please excuse me if I'm forgetting their names at the moment. I'll update this entry when I get it sorted out).
With the sun setting across the valley on the red towers above Sedona, I wound up into downtown, enjoyed a great burger and margaritas and relaxed into the evening. Fed and full, I headed up the hill to the forest service roads to pitch my tent on the slopes of Mt Mingus amongst the pines at about 7500'. I went back to town and checked out the big Halloween party at the Grand Hotel for a few hours before getting tired and going back up to my tent and my first good night's sleep in days.
This morning, I took a little autumnal hike to the Mt Mingus peak and enjoyed the perfect crisp weather-- the breeze would have been too cold if not for the bright sun on my skin and clothes. Back in Jerome, I visited some more local galleries, and while particlarly admiring some striking works at that artists's co-op, the artist himself wandered into the gallery. R.V. Lovelace was very friendly, and again I found myself talking for 30 minutes or so with the actual authority. Jerome affords unique oppotunities. I purchased some of Lovelace's prints and a painted agave Paho mask for my folks.
Finally, on my way out of town, I stopped in at the outfitter's shop and asked about local climbing areas. Morgan, the proprietor (in what had become typical Jerome fashion), spent the next 20 minutes with me divulging all sorts of secrets on climbing areas and hidden camping spots throughout the region. On his advice, I decided to call Rob and postpone my arrival in ABQ so that I might spend the next day or two at the acclaimed, yet still unpopular climbing area of Jacks Canyon. 30 miles south of Winslow, AZ where I sit now, having spent waay too much money on a splendid meal of perfectly cooked Elk loin, roasted southwest vegetables, bean and corn soup, perfect vanilla ice cream and a double Grey Goose on the rocks. Shortly I'll drive down to the camp at the Canyon, pitch my tent and start the process of bartering cold beer for climbing partners. Life is tough.
posted by Scottley at 6:03 PM
2 Comments:
Love the road blogging man. Having fun with maps too I see :)
Pity about the blog spam :(
Oh, you those 7 days you found? Don't spend them all at once :)
..."numbness of the old routine wearing off...". Good stuff. I understand entirely. Shed it and don't look back.
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