Journaling: Phoenix to El Paso**

October 28 we departed the Phoenix area and drove south through Tucson.  Although we got off the interstate downtown, we did not linger long but proceeded onward via I-10 to Willcox.  Great scenery, or eye candy, along this drive.  Stopped in a rest area near the top of a pass where the rock formations resembled piles of giant potatoes and where there were posted  warning signs, " Poisonous snakes and insects inhabit the area!" *

By this time, Cookie had gotten so used to the goathead problem that he would merely stop, lift the offended paw and stare piteously at one of us until we picked him up and pulled out the thorn.  No longer did he jerk or nip at the caregiver!  Quick learner.

We arrived in Willcox in time to locate a good campsite and get hooked up well before dark.  The monthly rate here is $210 and there is an indoor pool.  Willcox is about 75 miles from Tucson and a bit less to Sierra Vista if one heads southwest.  Wednesday morning JoAnn decided to take a ride on her scooter.  I thought she'd be gone about twenty minutes, but when the time extended past an hour, I got quite concerned.  However, I had heard no sirens nor seen any emergency vehicles rushing anywhere.  In another half hour, the camp host delivered a message to me that JoAnn had run out of gas and was at such and such an address.  Then he misdirected me to the location.  So all in all we were in Willcox until eleven o'clock that day.

Driving across the desert we saw several signs advertising "Kranberry's" in Lordsburg.  So we pulled in there and had lunch.  Food was good, but half their serving staff must have been out along the highway posting more signs.  Now did I say the service was slow?

We drove on across New Mexico, yucca flats on all sides, mile after interminable mile.  And the air was filled with tons of dust such that we could breathe it and smell it inside the air-conditioned vehicle.  We flew right on through Las Cruces and said "No way" to their signs touting it as a retirement community.  Nevertheless, a hundred thousand souls have said "yes" to living there.

As we neared El Paso the aroma of miles of feeder lots nearly overwhelmed us.  I know.  To some, it is the smell of money, but if so, it gives a certain cachet (pun intended) to the expression "filthy lucre."  Somehow one is quite convinced that the housing alongside and in front of the cattle is occupied by "the help" and that Big Hat lives miles away and probably upwind.  Or maybe in Naples, Florida or Aspen.  (I have been told that in most cases this is probably not a correct observation and that Big Hat is having a really bad time of it right now.  Probably had to sell the place in Naples.)

There is yet more, much more, to this day, but that must be folded into the next day's account.

*I think it curious that the sign is illustrated not with an insect, but with an arachnid.  And I am betting the makers of the sign were thinking "scorpion" when they made it.  But go ahead.  Officially reinforce the mistaken notion that a scorpion is an insect.

Journaling: Grand Canyon to Phoenix**

Friday we drove south to Williams where we rejoined I-40 to Flagstaff.  But on the way we stopped at a roadside petting zoo and walked through a pen containing a mob of deer.  And we were mobbed! They licked us, snuffled us, and chewed on our clothing.  Really quite funny.  At Flagstaff we headed south through Oak Creek Canyon, shunning the interstate I-17 which has been completed to Phoenix since my last visit to the area.  Oak Creek Canyon is not to be missed even if one is driving an RV.  Over the summit and on the downward leg through the canyon we stopped at an upscale resort and had lunch in a very nice restaurant.  We later stopped in Cottonwood for a brief while, thence back to the interstate to Black Canyon City where we camped.

 Black Canyon City is surrounded by Sonoran hills on which the saguaros are standing like so many robbers apprehended in the act, their hands held high.  The campground  is a wonder in itself complete with public meeting room, lounge, swimming pool, and hot tub.  Wonderful flora surrounds the entire area.  For the Palisaders and other RVers among you this is a site for consideration.  The owner is an affable gentleman.  He offered us a nice discounted rate if we would return in January and February, putting his offer in writing.  There are other parks in the village, but they don't measure up to this one in amenities or attractiveness.  The location is about thirty miles from Phoenix, more or less.  We didn't spend nearly enough time here, and January and February seem like a good time to be in Not Indiana.

Ten o'clock Saturday afternoon we left BCC and drove into Glendale where we parked in the drive at the lovely home of my old college friend Wes and his lovely wife Carol.  Wes and I both arrived on campus at Seattle Pacific, he from Arizona and I from Colorado, about the same time in nineteen-something-or-other back when dirt was young and so were we.  We immediately had something in common as I'm quite sure we were the only two who showed up in ten-gallon hats.  (There were a couple of Texans there, though, so maybe my memory is not completely accurate.)  Anyway we lived in the same dorm during our sophomore year, we both majored in philosophy and we rented a basement cubby-hole style apartment together one quarter.  We even split an off-campus evening job for a while.  We have stayed in touch over the years, but our visits together have been rare since I moved to Indiana.

The next few days were spent reminiscing and enjoying the hosts' hospitality.  Jo and I did a tour through Sun City and Sun City West and also went through a few model homes in a new Del Webb community called Corte Bella.  We didn't buy.  Perhaps we should have.