Posted by: facetothewind | May 14, 2012

Rail Immersion

This entry is a bit of a mixed bag of themes. First there was the haboob last week in Tucson…a near white-out of dust kicked up by high winds. I could write my name on the piano afterward. So yeah, much as I love her, it’s getting to be time to abandon Tucson for the summer.

As the harsh summer weather settles in, I start to feel like I’m under house arrest being that I refuse to cycle between 10 am and sundown.

So, John and I got out of town for the weekend. When it’s hot in Tucson, you head for the mountains — change your elevation; Change your temperature; Change your mood.  First stop was Sedona, a beautiful town built in the red cliffs of northern Arizona but overrun with wealthy narcissists don’t seem to know some basics of good behavior…

Sedona was also the first whistle stop on our obesity tour. Jesus God. Americans have completely let themselves go. Here two sisters waddling below the “Two Sisters” of Sedona…

Our first night was in Flagstaff, a town I’m having a little romance with. It has the cutest old downtown, lots of charm, a very educated and liberal population and the cutest scruffy lumberjack boys I’ve ever seen. At 7,000 feet, Flagstaff’s cool, pine-scented mountain air and sunshine delight those escaping the searing lowlands of Arizona.

After working our libidos into a frenzy in Flagstaff (an appropriate name for our post-cruising affliction) we went on to Williams for a steam train ride. You can see the video here. Notice the fat belly and butt interlude in the video…

We spent a night in Williams, AZ, a small town built up on the historic Route 66. I have to say, it was not my favorite place on earth. Its sole purpose is to glorify the automobile and the American highway. There’s even a gas station museum. We had a drink at the dive bar below and escaped before things got ugly…

Finally ended up in Jerome, an old copper mine town reclaimed by Harley riders and ghost chasers. Sidewalks are rolled up at 8 pm on Sunday so we nearly ended up going to bed hungry. As we were settling into bed at the Mile High Inn, a group on a haunted house tour came through and gathered in the lobby outside our door. We cracked the door open and listened to the tour guide hypothesizing about the ghosts that have been sighted here. We watched them using their little orange ghost detectors and tried to spook them by wiggling fingers in the crack and slamming it when they looked. I think we had more fun than they did and for the record, no ghosts appeared in our room that night.


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