An Interlude in the American Southwest

Well, I have two posts waiting in the wings, but I decided to do something a little different and share about our recent trip out west.

My dad and stepmom moved out to Phoenix, AZ from Upstate NY in 2003. Jokingly, we say Dad was tired of shoveling snow, but there are a lot of other reasons, of course. If I remember correctly, with this summer’s trip in the books, I have been out there seven times.

I do love it, though I always wonder if I could really live somewhere like this–so busy, growing every year, dry, hot… At any rate, it is an ideal spot for a vacation.

Being a family of five, four of whom are adult-sized, we were forced to rent a vacation home for the first time (I have happy memories of my tiny children sleeping on an air mattress on my dad’s floor).

This was our idyllic backyard, in which my 7-year-old could’ve easily spent the entire week in the pool.

Much to his frustration, there were things we wanted to do, and places we wanted to visit.

There are a few old Spanish mission churches up and down the Western part of the USA, from the days missionaries worked to convert the native peoples to Christianity. They are beautiful and reminiscent of the places we enjoyed in Europe.

This is the San Xavier del Bac Mission, outside of Tucson. You can click on any of the pictures in the gallery to see the full photo!

There are also plenty of state parks and wilderness preserves, even in the desert. Some are still called “National Forests,” although as my snarky 15-year-old said, “Where’s the forest?” The Sonoran Desert is a unique ecosystem: it is a desert, and yet, there is life!

The Saguaros have always been my favorite, of course.

We also made a stop at some 14th century ruins.

This structure is called Casa Grande, named by a missionary in the 1800s. It was once the central building in a large settlement of native peoples. There is still a bit of a mystery as to what happened to the group who settled here. It is believed that their “disappearance” could’ve been due to a cycle of flooding/drought that made irrigation and planting no longer feasible. It is also possible they overfarmed their land, that their success, as it were, was their downfall (this is from the film shown in the guest center). There also may’ve been some kind of crisis in leadership.

At any rate, it is surmised they moved on. No, they did not just “disappear,” rather, they fanned out and became the ancestors of other local tribes.

In some places in the structure, there were small holes in the wall used to measure time as the sun passed through them, almost like a Southwestern US Stonehenge.

It is fascinating how people groups move around, and culture/language/heritage changes over time. In the video at Casa Grande, one native woman shares how she feels more connected to her ancestors when she visits the site at Casa Grande.

In recent years, I’ve come to appreciate how our grandparents have fed into our souls, and how we feed into the hearts and lives of our descendants. I have to be honest, as a Christian, I used to shy away from this way of thinking. Sounds to much like ancestor worship, but is it really? The Jews of the Old Testament had a very strong understanding of their place in the history of their clan, tribe, and nation.

Being here with my dad after five years, I realize how truly important it is to have a connection to your family history. I know, many family situations are not ideal, and some people need to escape. In our culture, however, it is not uncommon to leave for other reasons–a job opportunity or wanderlust. We are a very independent culture, and independence often trumps connection.

God has given me a lot of “found family,” especially in the church and now among my friends in the German-American community, but walking through my dad’s house, seeing all the pictures going back 100 years or more, and realizing that my children are so much like him even though they hardly know him… it is undeniable.

I wish our society would reevaluate the importance of family. Have we let some important things slip away in the name of being independent? I believe so. It truly does take a village, and it makes me appreciate cultures and societies that have hung onto that clan/village mentality. Though it is totally foreign to the way I grew up, it has its merits, and maybe we’ve missed out on something.

But I digress…

My daddy and his wife have made a nice home out here, complete with a front yard rock-and-cactus garden. My father says he collected rocks over years of walking the dogs in the river bed–and that only a few months a year, December through February. After that there is too great a risk of rattle snakes.

Naturally, I had to find a German restaurant in Phoenix. My dad has been my #1 support in my writing “career” (all right, he’s tied for 1st with my friend Jen), but we’ve never really had the opportunity to experience the whole German thing together. Haus Murphys in Glendale has fabulous German fare and imported German beer and wine. On weekends there is often live music, so we made sure to visit on a Friday.

Naturally, I requested “Lili Marlene,” a song that was penned by a German soldier during the First World War, set to music in 1939, and became wildly popular on both fronts during the Second World War.

Another gorgeous sunset on the way home.

One of my favorite places in Arizona is Sedona. It is about two hours north of Phoenix and known for its red, rocky landscape.

On the way out of town, there is a place called Son Silver West Galleries, a huge eclectic shop with plants, pottery, antiques, decor and knickknacks. A great tourist trap except this year I was too tired and sat in the car while the boys shopped.

We came home with this wall sconce:

The center of Sedona is very touristy, but there is also a lot of hiking and exploring to be done in the area. In the past we have gone horseback riding, and of course there are the Pink Jeep tours, which run you up and down the mountainsides. Next time we won’t visit in the heat of summer.

As I mentioned earlier, people always wonder about scorpions and rattlesnakes, and I honestly have yet to see either of these things. My father’s home is built in the center of town, over old cotton fields where there have been decades of pesticides, so you don’t see much in the way of… erm… wildlife. Near the mountains, however, you’ve got to watch out. Shake out your shoes before you put them on!

On our final day, I spent some time with my dad while hubby took the kids to the Penske Racing Museum. There are some car dealerships nearby as well. Naturally, this was of particular interest to my boys:

Even after seven trips, there is much we haven’t done, or haven’t done in years. For example, we haven’t been to the Grand Canyon in over 20 years, nor have we spent much time at places like Tombstone and Old Scottsdale. In the past we visited some of the other museums and baseball stadiums downtown, Lake Roosevelt which is a wonderful man-made like and a great place to swim, and once I drove to meet a friend not far from Needles, CA (you know, where Snoopy’s brother Spike lives. Fun fact: Charles Schulz lived there for a while too!)

I hope you’ve enjoyed this brief southwestern interlude. I look forward to sharing a few movie/book reviews in the next month or two, and maybe some character insights as well.

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