lotsa desert. conversations with Border Patrol. sizzlin' hot Yuma. night out in Phoenix.
Sunday, 9.23.01
Heading out of San Diego I stopped at Claire De Lune, a perfect little cafe that may have been on University Ave but don't quote me on that; it was early and I hadn't had coffee. Claire De Lune has comfy sofas, full complement of coffee blends, snacks, bagels, and sandwiches, eclectic clientele, happy down-to-earth employees. They get bonus points for having sun-dried tomato bagels. Ate the bagel there and took the coffee, black of course, for the road. Mmmmmmm coffee.
The nice people on the Lonely Planet Thorn Tree strongly suggested I avoid driving the interstate as you tend to miss a lot that way. Actually the times I did drive the interstate I found it less of a soulless and bland experience than interstates in the northeast. Because much of the southwest is flat, isotropic desert it doesn't much matter whether you experience it from a big road or a small one. But for those parts of the trip that aren't flat desert I'd recommend the smaller roads for everything they have to offer, from the super cool windy mountain roads to the sad remains of Route 66.
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Left San Diego on 94 East, avoiding Interstate 8 for as long as possible. 94E is a little two lane road that winds through ranch country along the Mexican border, passing near Tecate. It affords an excellent view of the Mexican hills, attentive Border Patrol vehicles, and many many rocks. For the record, Fleetwood Mac complements the experience nicely.
Joined I8 in Boulevard, CA, and stayed on for about half an hour of rocky hills before descending a couple thousand feet onto a huge flat expanse of desert, punctuated with signs warning that using air conditioning could overheat your engines. Actually when you're driving 80 MPH you can roll the windows down in any weather and feel fine, so you don't even need AC. According to the car, temperature on the desert floor was about 112 degrees with no shade of course. Stayed on I8 for about half an hour before taking 98 East along the Mexican border again passing first through the Yuha Desert and then through Calexico, CA. Eventually 98E rejoins I8 in the middle of absolutely nothing. For some reason the Hedwig soundtrack resonates nicely here.
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The Imperial Sand Dunes Recreation Area is surprisingly difficult to find. Look for the Grey's Well exit off I8 and take the frontage road to the park entrance and more confusion. The park "entrance" is an uninformative sign, an information board with no information, and a self-serve permit vending machine that offers you the option to pay $10 for a week's access to the park or about $35 for a month's access. Since I only needed a couple hours I hesitated to shell out ten bucks, but there was nobody to ask. In fact there was no explanation as to where the roads went, what kinds of recreational activities were offered, or any other information about the park. I bought a ten dollar permit and drove a couple miles up the small desolate road until I ran into a couple Border Patrol vehicles parked on a hill overlooking the desert.
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Deadpan border patrol guy: "As long as you're not planning on digging up drugs or bringing back aliens."
Me:"Well I wasn't planning on it today..."
"Good, 'cause then we'd have to shoot you."
"Yeah that doesn't fit in so well with my plans either."
Then his mouth laughed but his eyes didn't. Interesting people the border patrol.
Drove further along the frontage road, the only signs of life coming from the cars zipping along I8 over the hill, and pulled off near a historical marker. This marked the beginning of the remains of the wooden plank road that cars used to cross the desert from 1915 to 1926. Signs along the remains explain how the road was built and how it was used. The remains aren't much to look at as the desert isn't particularly kind to things made of wood.
Wandered into the desert for a bit with camera and water, more for the experience of wandering through a desert than for any other reason. If you haven't tried wandering through a desert I'd recommend it. There's loads of small brush to look at, and plenty of exciting wildlife like live lizards and dead lizards. I saw both kinds.
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After a while I drove the short distance back towards the massive dunes which have been filmed in countless movies. Like everything else in the park, the experience of finding the dunes is confusing and you could almost miss them. At the very entrance when you first face the permit vending machine there's a road that veers sharply off on your left that doesn't appear to be open to the public. Take this road a short ways to the end for the biggest sand dunes you'll see anywhere, unless you're more familiar with desert landscapes than I am. The dunes are majestic, pure in form, beautiful, and unfortunately marred by the tracks of countless ATVs (thanks George Bush!). I walked up the nearest dune, crossed the crest and walked across a couple more. This is really not easy given the incredible heat and the sheer size of the dunes, which are each a good five or six stories high. Every available surface of the dunes was covered with ATV tracks as though someone were making sure all the surfaces matched, or as if I were witnessing the aftermath of a national ATV conference. Fortunately the tracks don't show up in these photos because the blinding reflection of the sunlight on white dunes leaves no room for contrast.
Got back on I8 and headed into Yuma, AZ. As a fast-growing city and one of Arizona's third-largest metropolitan areas, I expected Yuma to be a little bigger or at least busier. It looked like a typical mid-sized American town that was entirely void of people. Typically I expect to see people in the early afternoon on a clear summer day. Granted it was Sunday and about 115 degrees, but even so people have to go somewhere. I wandered around the downtown area among the closed shops and stopped at a small sandwich shop for a frozen fruit thing. Afterwards I stopped just outside and spoke to a nice older woman who told me that Sundays tend to be slow. She asked where I was from and I told her and got the increasingly familiar reaction. She suggested I walk a couple blocks over and onto the bridge connecting California and Arizona so I could tell my friends that I stood on the bridge connecting California and Arizona. Not wanting to shit on her idea of an exciting afternoon activity I told her that sounded like a really good idea and thanked her for it before getting back in the car and driving east.
Back on I8 for a while; at some point there was a Border Patrol station roadblock. All three cars ahead of me were slowled and waved through. I got stopped and asked if I was an American citizen. Everybody thinks I'm Mexican.
Stayed on I8 for a while before pulling off at Dateland, AZ for late lunch at The Dateland Diner which, according to their own billboard, offers World Famous Date Shakes. The diner was quintissential roadside diner. I seriously contemplated the date shake but opted instead for western omelette sandwich and coffee. Got back on I8 and took it to Gila Bend, to connect with 85 North to Phoenix. This is very long very straight desert road lined with saguaro cacti; the big ones like in the cartoons. Except these have been shot up with rifles, which I guess constitutes family entertainment in the desert.
Drove into Phoenix just as it got dark and during rush hour, and yet had no problems with either navigation or weird drivers. Phoenix is well-run, and self-congratulatorily boasts this fact on road signs. Aside from being extremely clean, it's also well laid-out, and signs are clear so it's easy to get around.
Got to my friend Miguel's house in Scottsdale, a beautiful part of the city. Went to AZ88 for dinner, a truly fantastic Scottsdale restaurant owned by the same people who own Bar 89 (yes with the famous bathrooms) in Soho. The place is well designed and the food was nothing short of bitchin'. Started with a first-rate vodka martini (Kettel One, twist) and toasted potato slices served with hot sauce and blue cheese. Then Picnic Chicken, an amazing sandwich thing with a complex combination of flavors and textures. Definitely one of the best restaurants on the trip.
Next stop BS West, a Scottsdale gay bar, where Sunday is karaoke night. I'd never seen karaoke in a gay bar. Interesting how people mix concepts like 'gay' and 'karaoke', or 'gay' and 'rodeo'. It's like when I went to Germany and they mixed vodka and Coke. Sounds a little strange but it tasted alright while I was there. Good bar. People were friendly and nobody was wearing Prada or talking about wearing Prada.
Phoenix is a good place, I like. Sure it's hot but I'll take a dry 115 F over 87 F and humid in New York any day. At least here the streets aren't melting.
back to Day Two, San Diego: a day at the gay rodeo.
