Like a Camel - Tucson, AZ (Part 1)

On the penultimate weekend of my project out West, I went on another solo travel trip – this time to the great state of the cactus. Actually, that title may be a toss-up between Arizona, New Mexico, California, Nevada, and Texas, so to clarify, I did indeed go to Arizona.

Though Tucson seems like a random choice and also difficult to spell, it was selected based on the reasonable points conversion rates for free hotel nights. Who would guess that the points required for hotels in Phoenix and Seattle are outrageously exorbitant, on par with some resort spas in Hawaii.

Tucson is a great option, but perhaps not shockingly, it's even more dry than Salt Lake City which seems almost impossible to my East coast self. Otherwise, it was a delightful, relaxing place to spend a weekend and according to my Uber driver, elderly people agree with me as they regularly move from neighboring states to Tucson upon retirement to treat every day like a Saturday for the rest of their lives.

As it happened, I spent much of my weekend working remotely but managed to dedicate one full day to exploring and necessarily drinking water in equal measure.

In the late morning on my day off, I visited a popular zoo that contained an impressive array of animals, several of which I had never seen before which was quite cool. I know I’m not alone in my reservations and uncertainty about the concept of zoos – in my case, it’s no doubt due to ignorance in both directions, both on considerations supporting and against it. However for now, I'll defer further discussion and just recognize that I appreciate all kinds of amazing animals.

Roll film.

Feeding a giraffe and finding peacocks that roam the grounds freely. Both creatures disproportionately long.

Saw these inhabitants among others like capybaras, anteaters, panthers, and some unknown thing in the water that everyone was inexplicably trying to spot. I also just realized that the ring around the rhino's eye was possibly applied to protect the little dude from the sun. A gigantic creature.

Animals – very awesome.

(continued in Desert Stop)

Desert Stop - Tucson, AZ (Part 2)

(continued from Like a Camel)

Then, in the late afternoon, I took a short hike through a national park desert in search for attractive cacti and perhaps also a stroke of creative inspiration as one does in deserts. I didn’t make much headway on either front, but I did observe that saguaro cacti are often misshapen and rather deviant from the classic image. (Also, it’s pronounced sa-wa-ro, with a silent g.)

I ended up spotting a good one on the drive-through portion of the park – a single good one out of hundreds of saguaros, collectively summing up to thousands of years of growth. One lone shoot matches the archetypal shape that is supposed to represent them all. Alternately, Arizona produces wonky cacti and other deserts around the globe are more consistent with the aesthetics. The jury's still out on that.

On this drive-through trail, I also encountered a fellow solo traveler, a middle-aged man on a motorcycle. He asked me to take a picture of him sitting on his bike in front of a sunset and then offered to take my picture in return.

The Good Saguaro

The exchange is unassuming and brief but I react internally a bit. This man, by making this request, indicates a relinquishment of the guise of self-sufficiency, which is very much not in the spirit of embracing aloneness, my diehard modus operandi and foundational assumption when I travel on my own. Still, this part of the matter is not so bad. It's minorly uncouth but not objectionable to go around asking people to take your photo as I certainly rely on strangers for directions and recommendations sometimes. I find that picture-taking is one step more personal, in that a level of openness is required to be the subject of a one-person shot. However, I also realize that I may not have the best gauge for interpersonal distance as I sometimes don't even ask friends to hold my belongings for me when I need more than two hands.

The further issue, when my dismay really starts to heighten, is that I was also companionless in this situation so the random tourist and I had this characteristic in common, which is in fact the likely reason why I was asked for the favor. Now you see that I have been identified as a compatriot against my will and feel that without much intent, I have tacitly agreed to the presumption that solo travelers have an automatic bond based on being solo and that we should implicitly help each other – a perspective that continues to violate the premise of being alone.

Then, when you think that it couldn't possibly get worse, this person offered to return the favor to take a picture for me, which I certainly didn’t request. Interpreted generously, this compounds all of the aforementioned offenses and then some.

Of course my response is to take some great pictures of what he wanted and then politely decline the return offer, before, on second thought, changing my mind and agreeing because after all, it was free. So now I have pictures of myself taken from farther than an arm’s length away, to show for this five minute ordeal and the more significant reverberating introspection. Thus concludes my current, slightly exaggerated thoughts on independence, companionship, and coexistence with fellow mankind, vaguely.

In a thinly-related side story, I was in Central Park with a friend last month and was stopped by a tourist who appeared to be European, requesting to have his picture taken. There he stood, in front of the lake with a panel of downtown skyscrapers in the background and to my intrigue, started posing like a classic hero on a magazine cover, back straight, slightly angled, and looking into the distance. It was delightfully on point and shamelessly distingué.

At any rate, to round out my day in Arizona, I took a stroll through downtown for dinner, and this approximately covered all there was left to see in Tucson (with the exception of a museum that housed live desert animals, which I unfortunately had no time for). Tucson is and feels like quite a small town as even the hub tended on the quiet side. However, I found the place to be intuitively comfortable (abstractly, not physically) in the short time that I spent there and my only two mild complaints are the small airport and the muchas ubiquitous Mexican-themed food.

    

Destination ice cream is becoming a theme on this blog. I don’t know why, as it's not a theme for me at home. However, when presented with flavors like carrot cake and banana nut, how could you not.

Itinerary items referenced: Reid Park Zoo, Saguaro National Park Rincon Mountain District, HUB Ice Cream Factory
Additional recommended restaurant: The B-Line

Downhill from Here - Park City, UT

When someone tells you they are going to Utah or a similar mountainous state, the default is to ask whether they ski. In turn, on the receiving end of this question, if you have exclusively skied on the East coast at a moderate dabbler level, I recommend your answer to be a regretful but sound no. I speak from personal experience.

The only thing I have to say is that the mountains of the Basin and Range region – they ain’t playin. A casual terminology drop from the 4^th grade US geography curriculum – and briefly we reflect on all the elementary school information that we never really needed to know.

The slopes on the West side of our country are steeper, longer, and way more beautiful, to the point that photos can’t begin to capture. But let's not gloss over the emphasis on steeper. The weekend I was there also happened to be a fairly warm and slightly slushy winter lull which translates to added challenge for the amateur skier. Or maybe that's just my excuse – you can decide.

As someone who gravitates away from rollercoasters and similar thrill-seeking activities, I can safely say that I overcame adversity those couple days on the mountains. In spite of this or maybe because of it, I regard the entire experience to be super fun and I did manage to sharpen some skiing skills when I wasn't inching down sideways trying not to fall. Final words for those with a similar threshold to mine, if you ever visit the same resort, I recommend starting on the Base Area side of Park City and save Canyons Village for day two.