Praising Arizona, Part 4

While we were planning our Arizona adventure, I had seen info in the Scottsdale tourist guide on "shooting experiences". One operator offered to take you out into the desert and instruct you in the firing of a Glock and an AK-47. This seemed so surreal to me, that I just had to check it out. Unfortunately, when I contacted them, they were not offering an outing until the middle of the week. So, instead, I called the Scottsdale Gun Club. I told them I had never fired a handgun before, and they were happy to have me come over and give it a try.

So, on my last morning in Arizona, I was up bright and early and at the gun club a few minutes before it opened. A few other people were waiting to get in, mostly men in their 60's. They could have been dressed for golf, except they had come to shoot.

I explained why I was there to a young man at the counter and he took me into a side area where I watched an eight-minute safety video (which made me even more nervous than I already was), and signed a two-page waiver, basically saying any harm that came to me, anyone else, or the furniture was my fault.

I went back to the counter to select my weapon. I asked what might be appropriate for a first-time shooter, and was set up with a Smith and Wesson .38 revolver. I was shown how to load and fire it, and how to eject the spent casings; given a box of 50 bullets, ear protection and a lanyard with my lane number on it; told to select three paper targets and how to set them at the appropriate distance; and sent out to the range.

Even with the hearing protection, the noise was terrific. To my immediate right, a man was firing a large calibre handgun, while farther to his right I could hear the sounds of machine guns firing. To my left was a young woman in gym rat clothes, maybe law enforcement, firing a large handgun with a laser sight.

I attached my target, sent it out 15 feet (I'd been advised to start at a distance of 12-15 feet), loaded my weapon, aimed and fired.

The kick was about what I expected and I remembered all that stuff from TV shows and books about squeezing the trigger and not letting the recoil pull it up off the target. I didn't do too bad. I continued firing until the cylinder was empty, ejected the spent casings, reloaded, and picked up the gun. That's when the range safety officer tapped me on the shoulder. I had broken one of the cardinal safety rules: I had picked up the weapon with my finger inside the trigger guard.

He was very nice about it though, and when I told him it was my first time shooting, he gave me some pointers, including suggesting I try cocking the trigger so it would fire on one pull. The Smith and Wesson fires on two pulls: a strong pull on the trigger cocks the gun, and a second, lighter pull fires it. Though the double action is more likely to pull a shooter off target, I found the lightness of the single action a bit too sensitive, given all the adrenaline flowing through me.

I continued firing and reloading, moving the second and third targets out to twenty feet, and finished the box of ammunition. Trembling slightly from the adrenaline and the noise, I returned the gun to the counter, and declined the offer to try a semi-automatic Glock. Range time, gun rental, ammo, targets, ear protection, and tax cost me $50.

Am I glad I tried it? Yes. Would I do it again? Probably not. Like driving a very powerful car on a slippery road. it was an intense, exciting experience, but it didn't give me a rush of power; if anything it scared me.

While in Arizona, I gained an appreciation that firearms, like horses and cowboys, are an integral part of the history, tradition, and culture. And while the gun club did seem to be a place where safety was paramount, gun fetishism is still incomprehensible to me.

After we checked out of our hotel, we spent our last day in downtown Scottsdale. We had lunch by the water, rode the free trolley, shopped, and explored the park and arts precinct.

Then it was off to Sky Harbor airport to return our Ford Escape and catch the redeye for home.

Arizona captivated us with its natural beauty and historical and cultural attractions. We hope to return.

Praising Arizona, Part 3

On our way back to the Phoenix area from Sedona we stopped at the outlet mall at Anthem. I mention this only because the mall had the nicest public washrooms we've ever seen. All dark wood, marble, and tile, they would not be out of place in an upscale hotel. We had lunch, my wife bought some clothes, and we headed for the Desert Botanical Gardens in the southeast corner of Phoenix.

If you think deserts are just sand, you'll be amazed at the more than 50,000 plants growing in the 145 acres of Sonoran environment. There are also wildflower, butterfly, and herb gardens, as well as special events and exhibits. The trails are easy to walk and volunteers provide guided tours. Bring water, sunscreen, and a hat.

Afterwards, we checked into our room at the Holiday Inn Express Scottsdale North. Scottsdale is an affluent suburb to the northeast of Phoenix, and features some very expensive resorts, but there are also mid-priced properties at the north end, such as the one we stayed at. We had dinner about a block away at Romano's Macaroni Grill. We enjoyed the atmosphere, food, and service so much, we returned the following evening.

The next morning, I dropped my wife off at the Musical Instrument Museum in northwest Scottsdale. Open less than a year, it features examples of musical instruments from around the world, as well as significant individual pieces such as the piano John Lennon used to compose Imagine. There are also plenty of opportunities to hear and play the instruments.

While she was there, I headed to Salt River Fields at Talking Stick to take in a spring training baseball game between the Arizona Diamondbacks and the Texas Rangers. Built on the Pima-Maricopa Indian Community, the new spring training home of the D-backs and the Colorado Rockies had been open only a week. It features an 11,000 seat stadium as well as 12 practice fields. You can get a beer and a dog of course, but also a margarita and a burrito, if you wish. Or chocolate dipped strawberries on a stick. They were very popular with the kids and the ladies. Fifteen major league teams train in Arizona now, and the advantage over Florida is that they are all in the greater-Phoenix area.

Sunday, we drove east of Phoenix to the town of Apache Junction, the beginning of the Apache Trail. We stopped at Goldfield ghost town. Home to a gold mine in the 1890's, you can tour the old mine and museum, or ride the narrow gauge railway. There are shops and restaurants and even a small church. We had to wait until the service was over before the "bounty hunters" from Tucson could attempt to arrest a couple of local miscreants. Gunfire ensued and the bounty hunters were in turn shot by the local sheriff and his deputy. The scene resembled the final act of Hamlet. Hokey for sure, but lots of fun.

We continued on the winding Apache Trail, climbing to the town of Tortilla Flat, where we turned back. The road continues another 60 kilometres or so to the Roosevelt Dam, but is unpaved. We had lunch in Canyon Lake, overlooking, yep, Canyon Lake. Seemed strange to see a lake in the middle of the desert, but this one had been formed by damming a river.

On the way back to our hotel we stopped at Fry's supermarket. Sure it has a pharmacy, floral shop, bank, and prepared food section; but also a Starbucks, a bookstore, a cooking school, and a beer and wine bar. The beer, wine, and liquor section was larger than most LCBO's and contained a climate controlled Vintages-like section. There was valet parking, and they would even wash your car while you shopped.

I'll conclude our adventures with the tale of me and the Smith and Wesson .38 in Part 4.

Praising Arizona, Part 2

The next day, we picked up our rental car, a Ford Escape. That's a small SUV, and while not what we'd reserved (we'd booked a Hyundai Sonata, but Thrifty didn't have any available), it turned out to be ideal. It was good on gas, using about 8.5 litres per 100 kilometres in a mix of driving that included 2,500 metre mountains, 120 km./hr. Interstates, and stop and go city driving. It had plenty of room for our stuff and excellent manoeuvrability and outward visibility.

We headed to Jerome, two hours north of Phoenix. Jerome was once a copper mining town of 15,000, but is now an artists' colony of about 400. It sits at 1,600 metres on the side of a mountain overlooking the Verde Valley in Central Arizona. Some of the buildings have been salvaged or restored and are homes to galleries, shops, and restaurants.

We ate at the Flatiron Cafe. This tiny place (it holds about a dozen people and the washrooms are at the artists' cooperative across the street) has an award-winning menu. The bread pudding is not to be missed, but get there early, because it sells out by 12:30.

We wandered around for a few hours before heading for the condo we had booked at Sedona Summit Resort in Sedona, about a half an hour northeast of Jerome. This is a timeshare property, but we had found and booked it online. It is also listed in the AAA tourbook, so can be booked, like a hotel, by anyone. We had to fend off several offers to attend a timeshare presentation, but all the resort's facilities were available to us. There were free activities during the day, and concerts and lectures in the evening. Our one-bedroom suite had a full kitchen, bath with whirlpool tub and shower stall, gas fireplace, wireless internet, king bed, and balcony with a view of those famous Sedona rocks.

Sedona is Red Rock Country and it is the most spectacular natural setting I have ever experienced. Founded by T. C. Schnebly in 1902, he named it for his wife, Sedona. Five million people visit annually, many seeking healing or renewal and it is a centre of New Age spirituality. One wonders if it would have the same New Age cachet if it were called Schneblyville.

Over the next few days, we took in the local sights, attending a Taizé sevice at the Chapel of the Holy Cross, hiking at Bell Rock, visiting the site of a pre-historic Sinagua pueblo at Tuzigoot National Monument, seeking the vortex on Airport Mesa, shopping and dining at Tlaquepaque arts and crafts village.

We spent a day at the Grand Canyon, about two hours north of Sedona. The forty-kilometre drive through Oak Creek Canyon north from Sedona to Flagstaff twists along a narrow road that climbs more than 1,000 metres and is not for the nervous, but is a drive you'll never forget. While the Grand Canyon is justly celebrated as one of the wonders of the natural world, I found the towering rock formations around Sedona to be even more awe-inspiring.

After four days in Sedona, we headed south again, this time to the Phoenix suburb of Scottsdale.

Praising Arizona, Part 1

Just got back from a week and a half in Arizona. The Southwest is a place I've long wanted to see and not only were our expectations exceeded, but a lot of our preconceptions overturned.

Because light snow in Toronto delayed our departure, we had only twenty minutes to make our connection in Minneapolis. We arrived at concourse A and had to leave from concourse G. It's a good thing Minnesota is flat, because it felt like we ran halfway across it. We made our flight to Phoenix, only to discover at 1:30 am in the deserted terminal in Phoenix that our baggage hadn't. Delta said they'd try to get it to our hotel by the next afternoon, and off we headed (in the pouring rain – in Phoenix?) to the Crowne Plaza Phoenix Airport. A shout out to Nicole, who took pity on us and upgraded us to a suite (sweet!).

The next morning we headed to the Heard Museum. The Heard is outstanding. We spent the entire day there and received a solid orientation in the history, culture, and arts of the native peoples of Arizona. You can explore it for yourself by clicking on the link above.

How we got there will be of interest to people in Toronto: by light rail. There was a stop in front of our hotel and another a block from the Heard.

Phoenix has recently constructed a light rail system about thirty-five kilometres long, running from northern Phoenix, south into the downtown, and then east past the airport to the suburbs of Tempe and Mesa. The trains run down the middle of the street and seem to have signal priority, because we never stopped at a red light. We seemed to travel at 50-60 kilometres per hour and stations were about a kilometre apart.

Each train consists of two cars, though the station platforms are long enough for three-car trains. Each car is articulated, and has four doors on each side. The entry is low to enable wheelchair access.

Tickets are $1.75 a ride or $3.50 for a one-day pass, and are purchased with a credit or debit card on the station platforms. The cars were full, but not crowded on the Sunday morning and afternoon we rode, and people were proud and eager to talk about their new rail and how it was reviving Phoenix's downtown, where projects like Chase Field, the retractable roof ballpark, have recently been built. When the airport SkyTrain is completed, it will link to the light rail and mean a trip to downtown will take 15 minutes and cost $1.75.

We wanted to buy Bob and Doug tickets to Phoenix so they could see that light rail does not mean streetcars getting in the way of cars. This system seems tailor-made for arterial roads like Sheppard and Finch. We saw a lot of other things in Arizona that would scare the Ford twins, like roundabouts and bicycle lanes. These guys really need to get out more.

When we got back to our hotel, our bags were there. We watched the Oscars right to the end (the two hour time difference meant they were over just after 10:00), and got ready to head to Sedona the next day.