Day 2: The Journey

On the Road Again

We performed only a fraction of yesterday's morning routine. Most of our preparation was done. To our relief today's travel was uneventful. I read nearly half of a long book in peace.

In Phoenix, we delighted in finding our baggage in a compartment next to the baggage carousel. We awaited only the back pack I had been forced to check at the gate of our connecting flight.

Our car rental experience was unusually fun. Our jovial clerk announced that he hated us upon learning that we were from Ann Arbor. He was an Ohio State fan, which meant nothing to me, but means everything to Michigan and Ohio college football fans.

At our request for a larger car than we had reserved, our clerk bumped us up to an even more luxurious car. Our late-model Impala provided enough space for our unusually large amount of luggage, enough horsepower for long mountain roads, and a host of smaller but ingenious amenities.

Aimless

After shuttling from the airport to the car lot, our clerk, who had shuttled with us, queried "So, where are you going?" We looked at each other and mumbled, "Oh, we don't know." He missed a beat, looking incredulous. Although he repeated his question a bit more loudly, our answer did not change.

We knew that we must retrieve our stove and lantern from FedEx and find a place to sleep. We wanted a tasty meal, and needed to purchase grocery and camping supplies. We also needed to drive to Tucson. We had no sense of how to order these tasks or how many of them could be accomplished today. We also did not know whether we could camp tonight or whether we'd need to stay at a motel.

We knew only the location of the FedEx office.

We began with that information. Our clerk gave us map and directions to FedEx. We thanked him profusely, leaving him to shake his head in disbelief. Clearly, we are not typical travelers.

Bums in a Cadillac

Driving the Impala during the next week was a strange experience. This car did not fit who we are or what we would be doing. We would not be staying in expensive hotels or bed and breakfasts. We would be tent camping in a rustic campground with no showers. Unlike driving our own cars, I felt like we were now at the helm of a boat and should be twenty years older and look a lot more like tourists.

As we grew scruffier and smellier over the week, I grew increasingly uncomfortable with the image we presented as we climbed into and out of the Impala at park visitor centers. I liked to maintain the scruffy image of the hardy camper. I felt that our car belied this image and promoted, instead, an image of people with a little too much money pretending to be outdoors-men.

This afternoon, our tried and true method of me driving and Ian navigating eventually got us to the FedEx office in Scottsdale. Nevertheless, the trip took a long time. Phoenix is an immense crisscross of four-lane, strip-mall-laden highways. Scottsdale was at the other end of this sprawling city.

Not-Yet-Bums in Scottsdale

Based on the lateness of afternoon and the distance to the nearest campground, we thought it prudent to eat in Scottsdale and find a motel. We had visited Arizona and spent time in Scottsdale three years ago. So it was with pleasure that we returned. Even if it were overly-upscale and touristy, this quaint town had many other redeeming features.

Once out of the car, we were surrounded by the pungent aroma of barbecue. Despite the strength of the smell, we could not locate its source. As we moved towards town, it diminished. Returning to the area where the smell grew stronger, we still could not identify its source.

Finally some locals directed us to a restaurant called Old Town Border. The restaurant's ambience was probably carefully designed with the tourist in mind. But we were tourist enough to like it. The design surrounded us with a nostalgic western/ranch/adobe atmosphere.

Unfortunately, contrary to the strength of barbecue in the air, this was not a barbecue joint. Huh... I was disappointed, but a delicious micro-brew and a friendly waitress cured that feeling. Lively conversation with Ian and a second micro-brew only increased my pleasure.

After dinner, we wandered through the streets, noting the touristy shops and small groups of people whose clothes and tentative steps unmistakably called out "T-O-U-R-I-S-T". Shortly we found ourselves back in the city park we had spent so much time in three years ago.

The park is characterized by a gracious and artistic landscape. Water and sculpture are prominent. The park is host to a few swanky restaurants and a very fine art gallery.

Nearby we also noticed invitingly-lit buildings which proved to be expensive hotels and condos. We strolled by, soaking in the atmosphere of wealth. Although our incomes could afford us this sort of accommodation, it was not our style.

We typically spend little time in shops or galleries while on vacation. However, we had spent a considerable amount of time in the park's art gallery three years ago. I felt that the artwork was of museum-quality. Various pieces had provoked us into thoughtful conversation.

Somewhere on this Planet

The hour grew late and finding a motel seemed prudent. To my amazement, it took us exactly 51 minutes to do so. I wondered whether this phenomenon was due simply to our unfamiliarity with the area, a lack of instinct on our part to sniff out tourist areas, or the sheer immensity of this sprawling city hiding a multitude of tourist areas among the many neighborhoods where real people lived and shopped.

We chose a Motel 6 because it was likely to be cheap, but also against our better judgment once we got out of the car. The more time we spent waiting in line to check in, the better an idea the Travelodge down the road seemed to be. It was clear that people with our incomes and lifestyle do not typically stay in a Motel 6.

I was not concerned about a lack of upscale ambience. What I imagined was slamming doors, loud TVs, and noisy children, all from prior experience at cheap motels. Nevertheless, we signed in. To my surprise and delight, the uncharacteristically quite night allowed us to read and sleep in peace for the paltry sum of $52.
^ Arizona, March 2005 < A False Start Getting Oriented >