Day 4 - JAVELINA X-ING

It was Friday, and once again I woke up with the nasty, painful, and crusty Bozo lips. This time I wrapped some ice cubes in a face cloth to use for a compress.

The ice cubes had almost melted completely by the time I was done with my morning prayers, and yet my lips did not fare much better. I will have to ask Carolyn where I could find the nearest pharmacy.

As usual, Carolyn had treated Gary and me to another gut-busting breakfast that neither one of us was supposed to have finished.

In the meantime, I asked Carolyn for directions to the nearest pharmacy. She said that there was CVS (You mean they have them there, too?!) just a bit of a way down the road past where I would turn off to get to Foster's.

So, I decided to leave a little bit early so that I could find that CVS and perhaps have a pharmacist suggest what I should do. I really did not relish the idea of having to go to the emergency room.

But first, I had to stop at the post office just down the road to mail my post cards and to get some stamps for my international post cards.

It was easy to mail the postcards, but the window was nowhere to be found. All I could see in the lobby was a rolled-down door where the window should have been. I asked the clerk, who was collecting the mail from the outside mail box and raising the flag on the pole, what time the window opened.

9 o'clock.

That's the same time my class starts.

Oh well, let's be off and find that CVS. I drive by the Rancho Mañana Road that I need to take to Foster's and keep on going. I pass the town hall and then the fire station. Soon, I'm out in the middle of nowhere with no CVS in sight.

Hmmm. I guess folks in Arizona have a different definition for "a little ways down the road."

Not sure how much farther I would have to travel to get to that blasted CVS, and not wanting to be late for class, I turn around and head to Foster's. I could always go there after class.

Today's class was on bit-map editing. There was SO much information being thrown at us today. And the pace increased even more after our lunch break. I think that by the time we done, everyone was dazed from information over-load.

Later that evening there was to be the big boot camp cook-out at Foster's. We could stick around and swim in his pool or return at 6 o'clock. Everyone opted to leave.

It was just as well. I high-tailed it back in the direction of CVS. And after driving through the middle of nowhere, I did indeed find it at an intersection with traffic lights.

I asked the pharmacist for her recommendations. She said that my affliction looked like one big massive cold sore. Well, I had cold sore before, and they never felt and behaved like this mess on my lips.

Anyhow, the pharmacist recommended an oral analgesic with 20% benzocain for the pain, a soft sun-blocking salve with no alcohol to keep my lips moist, and an over-the-counter pain-killer to bring down the swelling.

In the meantime, I noticed something in this CVS that I had never noticed in any other CVS. Booze! Yes, this CVS sold beer, wine, and hard liquor. I couldn't believe it. Anyhow, I bought a bottle of Chianti to bring to the party just so I could say that I bought booze at CVS.

But should I really be surprised that this CVS sold alcohol? After all, I discovered that in Arizona, one can buy alcohol at gas stations. What a concept ~ get gassed while you gas up.

Allowing gas stations to sell booze really doesn't seem to be the bright thing to do in a state that has serious problems with drunken driving. And had I stayed longer in Arizona, I suppose that I would have discovered even more stupid things to add to the list.

Well, I was done with CVS, and I actually had enough time to swing by the post office to get stamps for the post cards that are going to Canada, England, and New Zealand.

Now to go back and decompress from today's information over-load before returning to Foster's house.

I guess that by the time I got back to the B & B, I changed my plans about decompressing for awhile. Instead, I roped Gary into accompanying me for a walk up the road so that I could take a picture of that "JAVELINA X-ING" sign that I saw a couple of days ago.

Actually Gary was very nice and accommodating about indulging my crazy wish for a walk. And he was quite the gentleman making sure that I stay off to the side of the road and out of harm's way from the sporadic on-coming traffic. (I guess with a lot of the summer people back home taking up the entire road as they walked, that careless habit must have rubbed off a bit on me, too.)

Figuring that it was going to be a short walk to the javelina sign, I didn't think to put on my hiking boots. I figured the red cowboy boots that I brought with me should get some use and that they would be good enough for that short walk. Besides, this time I remembered to wear my boonie hat.

Wrong again.

That javelina sign was much farther than I thought. Judging from the time it took for us to get there, it must have been a mile and a half. And it was not an easy walk either.

There was no such thing as totally flat and shaded pavement here. While the incline was nowhere near as brutal as the ones on Saguaro Hill and the ruins, there was just enough of an incline in this hot and shade-free climate for me to feel a little bit more than an easy moderate level of exertion.

In order for us to get off the road, we found a rocky path that ran parallel to the road. However, it would have been nice if the path were as straight and level as the road, because all those little dips and curves must have certainly put on more mileage on my boots than if we were to continue walking on the road.

Finally after all that sweating and huffing and puffing (at least on my part, because a Texas boy like Gary is already used to this kind of climate), we finally reached our destination.

Finally after all that sweating and huffing and puffing (at least on my part, because a Texas boy like Gary is already used to this kind of climate), we finally reached our destination.

Now was time to pause and take pictures. Even Gary took pictures because he had never seen a "JAVELINA X-ING" sign before, even though he has seen plenty of javelinas where he lives.

I got a kick out of the red reflector stuck on the javelina's nose. While I had seen plenty of such mischief on the "DEER X-ING" signs back home, I would have never expected such treatment of a "JAVELINA X-ING" sign.

After all, it makes sense with deer, seeing that everybody knows about Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. But what have we here? Ramirez the Red-Nosed Javelina? Doesn't make for the best of alliterations when we're using javelinas instead of reindeer.

Having accomplished our mission, it was now time to turn around and make that long, hot walk back to the B & B. While walking, I could not help but notice these coyote tracks in the dirt. They had to be coyote tracks because all the time I was there I never saw a dog, or cat, wandering around.

But is that all surprising in a land where it's hot and there's plenty of coyotes and rattlesnakes?

One of the things that I found out was that pets here have to be snake-proofed.

Now what in God's name is snake-proofing? I certainly didn't know, so I had to ask.

Snake-proofing takes place with aversive conditioning. A shock collar is put around a pet's neck. Then the animal is allowed to have its natural curiosity manifest while it's exposed to a live rattlesnake, which is kept in a safe and secure container.

Whenever the animal approaches the rattlesnake, it receives a shock. After a sufficient number of shocks, the animal associates these painful sensations with the sight, sound, and smell of a rattlesnake. (Apparently, rattlesnakes also have a very unique scent.)

And that's how to snake-proof your pet in a nutshell.
With the proliferation of such noxious creatures, it is easy to see why people want to protect their pets by keeping them indoors. There are snakes ready to strike at every cactus. And those sweet kitty cats and cute little dogs make delicious coyote canapés.

Heading back, there's Black Mountain way up the road, the same mountain that I nearly drove off the day before.

While walking back, Gary wanted to stop and take pictures of the desert houses. You can barely see them in this picture. Look at how they blend in with their environment. However, they would stick out like a sore thumb in New England, just like a New England farm house would stick out in the Arizona desert.

Here's a closer view of those same houses in the picture above. A lot of the houses in Arizona are the adobe style houses that have been common to the Native Americans in that area. But instead of being built from sun-dried bricks of sand, clay, straw, and dung, these modern day adobe homes are made from poured concrete.

Also, I saw many houses that were going up that had particle board for the walls. And while such a material generally doesn't work well in humid climates like New England (even though contractors still use it because it's much cheaper than plywood), it's ideal for a hot, dry desert climate like Arizona. And besides, the concrete creates a pretty good seal against any possible moisture.

Here's a dark orange adobe house off in the distance. Notice that it's a different color than the previous adobe houses. I'm not sure if the color is added into the cement mixture or painted on later.

Here's that same house a little more up close. I wonder what those white patches by the windows are. Repair work perhaps?

It's an impressive structure, and it looks Italianate in some ways. Not all adobe homes follow the lines of traditional Native American adobe homes. Tuscan style adobe homes are also popular in Arizona.

Hey! We're getting closer to the B & B. I can see the Spur Cross Bed and Breakfast and even Carolyn's car in its parking spot. Behind the B & B is the Desert Foothills Library, which is presently under construction. (Gee! Just like our public library back home!)

And who can resist these 3 amigos? I must say, that I have really been taken in by the saguaro cacti. In fact, they were a big reason why I was looking forward to my trip to Arizona. I wanted to see cacti as tall as trees.

Even Gary could not resist taking a picture of these 3 fellows. There are no saguaro cacti in El Paso, Texas.

Saguaro cacti are only located in the Sonoran Desert, which straddles the U.S.-Mexican border. In the U.S., the Sonoran Desert is located in the southwest corner of Arizona and in a very small portion in the southeast of California.

Even though it may look like a hot, dry, and barren bit of land, the Sonoran Desert sports quite the vast diversity of plant, animal, and insect life. We are truly fortunate to have this unique treasure right here in our back yard!

Anyhow, we made it back to the B & B in one piece. I realized the mistake that I made when I took off my cowboy boots with that one pair of socks. There, on the base of both big toes, were 2 huge water blisters. In fact, the one on the left broke and was oozing plasma.

Boy! Did it sure feel good to get my dogs out of those boots and into a pair of comfy, broken-in sandals.

And now, time for Foster's party.

Weird Does Not Apply

Well, I survived day 1 of boot camp. Now it was time to return to home base and make my daily ritual phone calls to Ariana and Roma (who forgot about the 3-hour time distance and called me while I was still in class).

Roma had called with the news of an escaped murderer in our town and for me to tell Ariana to be careful.

I had realized that it's been 3 days since I read a newspaper or heard the news. And you know what, that felt kind of nice.

Then I called Ariana. Yes, she already knew about the escaped murderer. She wasn't too much concerned about crossing paths with him, even though he was a relative of one of her former classmates who lived not even a mile up the road many years ago.

In addition to talk about escaped murderers lurking in our sleepy town, I extolled the virtues of Arizona and the people that I met, particularly in Cave Creek. People were incredibly kind and friendly. Even the drivers were sane and respected the 4-way stop signs and, for the most part, the speeding limits.

Here I was "normal." I wasn't weird. Nobody thought I had a character defect for being a middle-aged woman sporting a large tattoo on her forearm. I could be myself without people reacting as though I was a stuck-up snob because I was articulate and could easily use several 3-syllable words in one sentence.

(However, my quirky sense of humor did not seem to pack the same punch that it does back home. But hey! I'm not complaining.)

After living nearly my entire life in a place where people often considered me weird, odd, or what have you, that was kind of refreshing. As proud as I am about my uniqueness, being labeled as weird gets rather old and stale after awhile.

After hearing all this, Ariana said that she wanted to move to Arizona also. Now to convince the rest of the family.

Day 3 - The Work Begins

It was a fine morning except for the painful crustiness on and around my lips. I had no idea what it was. All that I knew was that I was already having some irritation around my lips before I left for Phoenix.

It couldn't have been allergies because the allergy medication I had did not even touch it. It wasn't sunburn because that was the only part of my body that was affected. Whatever it was, it hurt. And it made my lips swell to twice their normal size.

I had to apply a cool compress to my lips to get some relief and to soften up those painful crusts. Yuck!

Gary and I had a better opportunity to get to know each other over breakfast (which I can't remember what we had except for the fresh strawberries and raspberries, bacon, and coffee). He was a sweet 66-year-old Texas gentleman who worked for the U.S. government at Fort Bliss.

It was good having Gary join me for breakfast, especially when he exclaimed to Carolyn that this was 10 times the amount of food he normally eats for breakfast. Good! I didn't have to feel so bad for not being able to eat all of Carolyn's gut-busting portions.

Because we had to be at class for 9:00 AM, there was no dilly-dallying over breakfast like yesterday. Also, there was no more bringing back uneaten left-overs either.

Our 3-day seminar was officially called "CorelDRAW X3 Unleashed Boot Camp." It was to be 3 full days of intensive training in the new version of CorelDRAW, a graphic editing program which I think is superior to the ubiquitous and over-used Adobe (Illustrator and Photo Shop) software. (Sorry to all you folks who like and use Adobe products.)

All along, for some reason, I had thought that the class was going to be taught in one of the function rooms at the Rancho Mañana Golf Club. Maybe that was because it was listed in the directions to get to the boot camp.

But no, boot camp was actually held at the home of the the instructor, Foster Coburn III, who also happens to be a CorelDRAW guru.

Foster's an interesting guy. He looks younger than his 42 years of age. He's a nice enough fellow, but not one who elicits warm fuzzies. And he does seem to be a bit full of himself at times. I suppose that is to be expected of someone with his extensive area of expertise.

But still, he was an excellent teacher who had much to offer.

It's amazing just how much of his material Foster knows. And even more amazing is the opulent adobe home that he has across the street from the Rancho Mañana Golf Club. That swimming pool is none like I've ever seen except in those fancy-schmancy home and garden magazines.

Boot camp was in this darkened room that looked like a home theater. Just as well that the room was dark. I was feeling rather self-conscious of my Bozo lips, though for originally skinny lips like mine, they probably did not seem as freakish as I thought.

First order of the day, after finding our name tags and assigned seats was to introduce each other.

We already met Gary. And you all know who I am. So that leaves Gina, Kandy, and Gala who work for Wilkerson's, a jewelry liquidator in Arkansas; Edie, another government worker at the National Institute for Standards and Technology (the place that's home to the Atomic Clock) in Boulder, Colorado; and Jodi from Vancouver, British Columbia who has her own design and sign-making business.

Knowing that the U.S. government (along with some big mucky-muck corporations that were not represented in this boot camp) sends its people to train with Foster gave me great confidence in my decision to attend this boot camp.

After introductions, it was down to business. Today's full-day class was going to focus on vector graphics.

Vector graphics may be a little bit hard to explain to those of you who have no familiarity with graphic editing.

Vector graphics is what you use in designing logos, signs, illustrations, etc. Unlike bit-maps, of which photos are one example, vector graphic do not become distorted and do not pixelate when they are enlarged. This is all done using very complex mathematical algorithms that I will not even attempt to explain.

We were well fed all throughout the day. Soda, coffee, tea, water, pastries, etc. were always available. For lunch, we had a choice of items from a menu of a local restaurant (and a new restaurant for each day that we were there). I ordered a southwestern burger.

When Foster's assistant, Diane, arrived with the food, we broke for lunch. Surprisingly, we all ate outside, even though the temperature was in the low 100s.

What?! Were we nuts?!

No.

Actually it was comfortable outside because the air was being cooled with fine mists of water that were being sprayed at periodic intervals. Plus, we all sat in the shade at one of the many tables that were scattered around Foster's extravagant pool.

My Bozo mouth made it difficult and painful to eat. Plus, my stomach could not accept an entire burger. It was an effort just to eat half.

While all the others threw out their uneaten portions, I saved mine for the left-over collection that was multiplying back in my room. After all, my mother deeply ingrained in me that throwing out food was a sin.

All through the class Edie kept exclaiming how the information that she just learned had already paid for her class. Her boot camp experience must have been paid for at least a dozen times by the end of the final class!

While there were a lot of things that I already knew about, there were also plenty of things that I had forgotten about or not even used. Plus, there were some new tools that I didn't know about. So I felt good about my first day in class.

We managed to survive day one of boot camp.

That night I offered Gary a bottle of chili beer, and he took it with trepidation as we headed up to the star-gazing deck for some conversation.

Gary is not a big beer fan. The only beer that he drinks is Coors, which he calls "Colorado Kool-Aid."

We had pleasant conversation about the boot camp, Arizona, our lives, and the sense of accomplishment and failure we experienced.

After awhile of this deep and personal conversation, Gary said, "I hope you don't get offended if I don't finish this beer."

Me? Offended? No way! More chili beer for me!

Pretty soon my bladder was signaling its discomfort. I guess this was as good a point as any to call it a night. I made a bee-line for the bathroom while Gary called his honey back in El Paso.

Thus day 3 of my great Arizona adventure has been put to bed.

Adventures Of A Different Sort

I now had 2 hikes under my belt, and yet it was only just about lunch time. God! In such a short of time I had already accomplished a lot by conquering 2 mountains. And yet, the day was not even half over.

So what was my next adventure to be? Certainly not another encounter with the great outdoors. Not this time. Nope. No way.

Instead, it was time to do some shopping. After all, isn't that what people usually do when they go away to a different place?

Well, I wasn't going to stop at Carefree to do my shopping. All the stores there were in shopping centers. And while I'm sure that Carefree had its fair share of nice gift shops, I had a tough time imagining one of them sharing space with a building supply store, real estate office, or pharmacy.

So, it was back to Cave Creek.

While heading back, I passed this rather wild and garish structure that was called the "Town Dump." When I had first first seen it on a local map, I thought that it was a place where people went to dispose of their trash, just like I thought the the post office, town hall, and the fire station were what the labels said they were.

I never suspected it to be this crazy, wild, and bizarre store of the tourist trap persuasion.

So whoa!

I had to stop there, even if it meant that I had to find a turn-around because I had already passed the store while trying to process what I was seeing while I was driving. I had to visit this tourist trap that sported the sign "Malfunction Junction."

One of the first things that I saw, aside from the sensory over-loaded front of the store, was a yard that was filled with large Mexican pottery and humongous metal sculptures. That wasn't for me. I didn't even want to think about shipping one of those gigantic and heavy pieces back home.

The inside of the store was crammed to the hilt. Literally crammed. It was hard to walk around without practically hitting something. And it was definitely NOT a place for strollers, or for that matter, any life forms under 3 and a half feet tall.

Perhaps I could find something for Roma and Ariana in this store. But like all tourist traps, I had to carefully check the bottom to make sure that I was getting something local or labeled "Hecho en Mexico" instead of "Made in China."

Yeah, those long scarves were lovely. And I bet that Roma would have loved the colors. But, "Made in Indonesia?" I don't think so. And that nice looking string of cloth birds that were made in India? Forget it!

I did find a whimsical wooden hummingbird mobile. And while it had no sticker to indicate country of origin, it was undeniably a piece of Mexican folk art. I got 2 ~ one for me and one for Roma. I also got an iron hanging hook in the shape of a frog.

And I found 2 Dios de los Meurtos (Day of the Dead) figures that did have the "Hecho en Mexico" sticker. And for 9 bucks a piece, they cost a fraction of what I would have had to pay on my side of the coast.

Those items were in just the main building of this labyrinthine shopping establishment. There was still far more to explore.

Entering one of the rear rooms in the main building gave me this very weird feeling that I could not readily identify. It took a few minutes to realize that feeling came from that room looking like something out of one of my bizarre dreams.

Can you say, "Twilight Zone?" Sure you can.

After exiting the main building, there were 2 more buildings in a courtyard that was crammed with even more enormous metal sculptures and big pottery pieces along with any sort of miscellanea imaginable.

These buildings had a series of rooms that were open on one side, sort of like a garage or stables. Some of the rooms had antique furniture. Others had what looked like could have been a collection of old bar stools from some defunct diner. Still others had tons of retablos, santos, nichos (both wooden and tin), and Mexican tin work.

All these rooms were crowded, crammed, and in some places totally impassable.

In one room I found the perfect gift for Ariana ~ a cow skull. The room was loaded with them. 2 were on a table that was easy to get to. The others were hanging on all 3 walls. Those were not easy to get to, especially the ones on the right hand wall, which would have required that I climb on top of the antique furniture shoved in that very tight space.

So it was going to have to be one of the 2 skulls on the table. When I picked up the one on the right, the teeth fell out. So it wasn't going to be that one. And seeing that the other skulls were not easily accessible, it was fortunate that the remaining skull had its teeth intact. They were loose, but they were still marginally secured in the upper jaw.

Now there was no way I was going to pack a large cow skull in my suitcase. I could just see the reaction of the Transportation Security Agents. And with the Phoenix airport being über-anal with their security, I wasn't going to take the chance. Besides, where would the rest of my stuff fit?

So it was a great thing that the Town Dump is a USP shipping location. They would ship my swag for me. Not only that, if I have them ship my purchases, I don't have to pay sales tax. And in Arizona, that is a good thing.

You see, in Arizona you don't have just one plain state sales tax (5.6%). You also have the Maricopa County tax (.7%). And on top of that, each city has its own separate tax which could run anywhere from 1.5% to 3.0%.

Yowzah!

So in Phoenix you would have the total sales tax of 8.1% while Carefree, Cave Creek's next door neighbor has a whopping 9.3%. Cave Creek's grand sales tax total amounts to 8.8%.

So don't you go off complaining about about taxes if you live elsewhere.

And speaking of complaining about taxes, I really haven't heard much squawking from the locals.

Apparently the county tax supports the roads and jails. And I must say, the roads are pretty decent. However, I can't make judgment either way about the jails.

In Cave Creek, the city tax has gone to major conservation efforts to buy up land in order to protect it from development. And that's a good thing. It would be a shame to have all that gorgeous land turned into strip malls, even if the developers do find new homes for all those displaced refugee saguaro cacti.

Anyhow, back to my story.

Having made my purchases and shipping arrangements, it was now time to go on and continue with my retail therapy.

Next on the list were post cards and gifts for Ariana and Neil.

I must say that the next stores I've gone into were nowhere near as colorful and freaky as the Town Dump. The Town Dump was a unique experience in itself.

The next place that I stopped at were a set of shops, one of them being Crazy Ed's Satisfied Frog, located in Cave Creek's Frontier Village.

There I found the post cards that I've been looking for, along with tee shirts for Neil, Ariana, and me.

I also found some interesting hot sauces, including one that had to stay hidden behind a curtain marked "For Adults Only" because of its ~ ahem ~ saucy name ("One Fuckin' Drop At a Time" for those of you who want to know).

I also found unique southwest candy in flavors like jalapeno and prickly pear. For Ariana and me I got 2 lighters in engraved wooden sheaths.

Also, I found an industrial-size coffee mug in the shape of a rattlesnake. The tail was the handle. But where was the head? Why, it was inside the cup, poised to strike at any unsuspecting soul. Of course I had to get that one for myself. (I just have to make sure that Neil doesn't get a glimpse of it.)

And without a doubt, I had to stop in at Crazy Ed's to get a 6-pack of that world famous Cave Creek Chili Beer.

By now it was 4 o'clock and time to bring all the spoils of my adventures back to my room.

I was tired and beat.

Carrying my many bags, I met Gary from El Paso, who would be joining me in the CorelDRAW Boot Camp tomorrow morning. I only had enough energy to introduce myself and say "Hi."

I had to quickly get myself into my air conditioned room and decompress before heading out to rustle up some grub. (No, they really don't talk that way in Cave Creek.)

I was having a tough time deciding between Mexican and beef ribs. Both sounded really good, and my stomach was having a tough time deciding.

Eventually, Mexican won out, especially since I wanted to know what a chili relleno (Mexican stuffed pepper) tasted like.

I decided on El Encanto, which was a short distance away and across the street from the Frontier Village. It was a lovely place with a gorgeous huge koi pond in the courtyard. In addition to the koi, there were geese, ducks, turtles, and a whole bunch of red dragon flies.

I opted to sit inside at a window by the pond. There were turtles basking on the rocks by the window. They appeared to be red eared sliders.

Having already looked over the menu while still back in my room, I already knew what I wanted ~ guacamole, the carnito chili relleno, and a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon to wash it all down.

Buster, my waiter (That's his real name!), quickly brought me my wine and guacamole. Oh! That guacamole was to die for! I could not get guacamole that good where I live, unless I make it myself.

The relleno was interesting and the beef nicely seasoned. But it was not something that I would be interested in ordering again.

I had Buster wrap up my leftover guacamole and relleno with the side of black beans. More food to add to my growing leftover collection. It was time to head back.

Looking back on the day, I did 2 strenuous hikes and some serious shopping, topped off by a pleasant Mexican meal in the company of turtles. I think at this point it's time to call it a day.

And there's some chili beer waiting for me at the end of the day.

Day 2 - Pre Breakfast Adventure

Having been fully rested from the night before, today was the day for some adventuring.

Seeing that I'm still operating on east coast time, I got up early and decided to hike up the hill behind the B & B before breakfast.

That area behind the B & B is not just any nameless desert scenery. It's actually called the Caroline Bartol Preserve on Saguaro Hill and it's also the site of the Goldwater Memorial Garden, named for Senator Barry Goldwater.

I didn't see any obvious trails while I was going up the hill. But at least the vegetation wasn't closely packed together that I would have to bush-whack through thickets of thorny cacti and be caught unawares by hidden rattlesnakes.

It was 7 o'clock in the morning, and already the day was showing signs of getting hot. But I figured that a short hike up the hill behind the B & B wouldn't be such a big deal.

Anyhow, that hike was to be the first among several lessons in the rigors of desert hiking.

A little hill like that would have not given me much problem in the leafy forests of New England, not even for somebody who's no longer in the shape she used to be.

But here it's different. It's exposed. And it's hot.

So every several feet I found myself struggling to catch my breath ~ really catch my breath.

However I wasn't going to let a little hill like that get the better of me, even if it was hot and without a lick of shade.

While hiking up that hill, and other hills to follow, I discovered that here, in Arizona, when you think you've gotten to the top of the hill, there is a whole more hill left to go.

"Great," she says with sarcasm.

Still the view from the top was spectacular and well worth the effort.

You could see all this land spread out before the mountains. And you could see why this area is called the Desert Foothills.

All around you could see saguaro cacti. But then, what do you expect from a place called Saguaro Hill?

This is the spot of the Goldwater Memorial Garden. That stone wall makes a great place to catch your breath. And that's a good thing because there's still a lot more hill left to go.

Saguaros aren't the only cacti to occupy Saguaro Hill.

You certainly would not want to back up into this baby!

And here's another example why this place is called Saguaro Hill. Notice that pale green saguaro near the middle. Its color was really out of place with all the other saguaros.

Here's a dead saguaro. Dead saguaros are collected and used to make interesting sculptures as well as floor and table lamps. The center is hollow, and there's enough spacing in between the ribs for the light to shine through.

Here's another dead saguaro with its innards somewhat intact.

Gradually, I'm making my descent. There's the B & B down below.

As I get closer down, I get a better look at that odd-colored saguaro. It looks Gumby green to me. I haven't seen other saguaros that pale green color. (That's the Desert Foothills Library, that's under construction, behind ol' Gumby.)

This gives you an idea of how tall these suckers get. A saguaro cactus can easily get 30 to 40 feet tall. That's about the size of your average backyard maple.

And did you know that one foot of saguaro weighs 100 pounds? And that's not counting the weight of the arms. So when one of those beasts falls, get out of the way FAST!

Oh good! Finally I'm back down to the B & B. (That little tiny blob on the right edge is one of the hummingbird feeders at the Spur Cross.)

Boy! Was I ever glad to be done with that hike.

It's not that I didn't enjoy seeing all that beauty. It's that the hike took a lot out of me. I was winded, hot, and thirsty. My hands were experiencing this weird vibration from God knows what.

Even for such a short hike behind the B & B, I should have worn a hat and taken some water with me. I cannot begin to stress enough how important it is to have water with you constantly when you're outdoors in this kind of environment.

I still had about 15 to 20 minutes left before breakfast ~ enough time for me to suck down some water and suck up the AC in my room.

After all, it was still early in the morning, and I had more adventures awaiting me that day.

Settling In

First thing I had to do, after regaining some of my energy and strength, was to unpack and put away my clothing and toiletries. All my clothing went into that nice and spacious armoir to the left of the bed.

I never did use the comfy chair for sitting. It made more of a convenient catch-all for my miscellanea.

The roomy bed was also another catch-all.

The fireplace never got used. There was no need for that. But it was still pretty to look at. And it made another convenient catch-all object a little later on in my stay.

I even had a little kitchette area. The fridge wound up getting filled with lots of left-overs that had to be eventually thrown out for the coyotes to feast on.

As you can tell, it looks like I have a good view outside my window.

And speaking of views outside my window, here's a close-up of one of the mountains.

This is that same mountain further away. The trees in front are mesquite. And by the way, my room is called the "Mesquite."

This is more to the left of the mesquite in the above picture. Notice there are more mountains. In fact, there are mountains all around. How cool is that?!

Here's a saguaro cactus that is in between the Spur Cross Bed and Breakfast and the horse farm about a quarter of a mile away.

Did you know that a saguaro has to be about 75 years old before it sprouts its first arm and that a saguaro with 5 or more arms is generally 200 years old? I bet that baby in the picture above is at least 200 years old. Just count the number of arms. There must be at least 7.

I saw many saguaro that were propped up by 2 x 4s. That is because in addition to having a very shallow root system, they are also a protected species. It is against the law to cut down a saguaro.

So whenever there are construction projects where the saguaro are in the way, they have to be dug out and then relocated. The 2 x 4s hold the cacti in place while their shallow roots try to establish themselves in their new location.

How very cool it was to have a nice room with this great beautiful view. No Holiday Inn would have been able to do that well.