I drove through Flagstaff on iconic Route 66 in 1961. I returned this past winter, with only a hint of old Route 66 still in place. 62 years have past and much has changed. Flagstaff continues to be a lovely small city, but much larger now. My mode of travel has changed from car to airplane. My body has changed from the power of youth to the joyous anticipation of “what next?” as I age. Did I write “joyous” in place of anxious? I’ll stick with joy—it is all good.
But why the destination of “Flag”? Well, the most important reason: family—son, daughter-in-law, and two precious grandchildren.
I got into Phoenix in the evening. My son had arranged for a hotel with plans to pick me up the next day. The flight had been stressful, from Eastern Tennessee through Dallas and on to Phoenix with the possibility of an over night in Dallas. Didn’t happen. With a little time on my hands and also hunger, I took off on foot for a Denny’s that I had spotted while on the shuttle to the hotel.
The area was semi-industrial, more like a large area of big office buildings. It was dark and with a little guidance from the hotel front desk I took of for the comfort station. Hardly any traffic, not a pleasant walk and I wondered why was I out here semi-lost in a major city. I am a small town guy. At one point I crossed a street and tripped on a curb catching myself with both hands. Got up, shaken. (My palms hurt for 2 months especially when releasing my wife’s wheelchair brake apparatus.)
So I finally got to Denny’s. The sign read OPEN. I went in to find nobody in the dining room or at the reception desk. After a few minutes a person came out of the kitchen and said, “We are not open.” I pointed to the sign. “Yes, but we don’t have enough staff.” I guessed not even enough to turn off the sign and lock the front door!
Okay so back on the street. I attempted to retrace my route and got really lost. I called the hotel and they tried to guide me. Finally, I made it back. Went to the vending machine. Should have gone to bed. The vending machine took repeated charges for a couple items. I called the number posted on the machine. “We no longer have that account.” A hotel staff gave some assistance—a very nice person. I eventually got refunds for a number of $1.50 charges.
Ordinarily I love the desert. I have always liked Arizona since going to the University of Arizona in Tucson in 1962. The desert was hostile that evening.
Now the good part started. My Arizona family picked me up next morning and we were off to the the Phoenix zoo, the largest privately owned, non-profit zoo in the United States—125 acres. What a wonderful experience! Spacious places for the animals, and a unique feature of prehistoric extinct animals with movement and sounds was amazing. They were large, probably replicated on archeological findings in size and features.
After the zoo we headed out for the Heard Museum dedicated to the advancement of American Indian art and culture. What a treat! Of course, the size and scope of displays in zoos and museums is usually overwhelming, but a casual walk through this one gave me a deep sense of appreciation and awe for the artistic creativity of the native peoples.
Now it was time to head for snow country. The drive from Phoenix is beautiful. As the elevations of 3,000, 4,000 and up passes by, the scenery changes. The majestic saguaro cactus gives way to pines. The route to Flagstaff passes through the mystical Sedona area. Basically, this drive can take you from summer to winter in about 2 hours. Flagstaff had record snow this past winter. Some years ago I followed my son from the Grand Canyon to Flagstaff. My car thermometer read 8 below zero. So Flagstaff has four seasons and is high desert. At close to 7,000 feet it is a couple thousand feet higher than the mile high city of Denver.
The family is taking advantage of the snow at the Arizona Snowbowl. The 5 and 8 year old grandchildren are being taught to snowboard by their Dad.
A very unique experience on my trip was a visit to Tynkertopia, a place for all ages to make things, to tinker around, an amazing non-profit. The grandchildren go there to create. Their mom goes to teach ceramics.
Of course, we did a lot of fine eating. My NOOM crafted body took a little beating but it was worth it. Being in their home, seeing their pets (rabbits, cockroaches, birds), the joy and stress of young family life—I am so grateful for the time.
Grandparenting from distance is common these days, but it is challenging to stay abreast of their lives. Facetime gives opportunity to see and hear each other from time to time. When I observe a grandparent on an outing with a grandchild in our town, I get a pang of disappointment that we are so far apart. Our challenge is to make the best of it. To reach out, to remember, to communicate our love and support.
Next week I will post about my trip to Portland OR to visit family.
Same here. They raised their prices, so I don't go as often! We'll schedule to meet up. Hope you are well.
Hey, Roger. Enjoying your writings still, especially this one. I haven't been commenting lately, because you were including a lot of material your brother wrote in your previous writings, and not so much about your life or thoughts.
I had trouble signing in, maybe because I got a new phone, or hadn't signed-in in a long while.
Flagstaff , and Arizona, is beautiful. But, yes, a lot has changed in 60+ years. I must say, I preferred the country when it was less crowded and more open and adventurous up as late as the 80's. But, can't stop 'progress.'
Glad to see you are writing quite a bit, now. Hope to see you soon at the coffee shop.