Drawbacks of Wandering: The Missed Train, the Hippie District, and the Tricky Museum

Tuzigoot National Monument

Jenn and I arrived at Dead Horse Ranch State Park, near Cottonwood, AZ at about 5 PM, Friday evening. The second we stepped out of the car, we realized it was going to be a windy, cold night. After fighting to set up the tent and the rest of the site, I realized I needed to get some batteries for the new LED lantern I had bought. We headed back to Cottonwood and stopped off at the local Safeway. After getting batteries and some much needed hot coffee from the Starbucks inside, we were back on the road. Because it was so cold out, we decided to keep driving rather than going back to the site.

We drove through Old Town Cottonwood, which was beautiful and lined with bars for those who enjoy a few drinks. We kept following the road until we hit Clarkdale. Faced with a fork in the road, we took it (R.I.P. Yogi). Actually, we went right, for those who don't know the reference. There we would find something we both thought was really cool. The Verde Canyon Railroad is made up of classic rail cars and launches out of the Clarkdale train depot. Neither of us could recall ever having been on a train before so we were excited to take a ride. However, we would quickly find out that it was completely booked for the only departure leaving that weekend. Out of desperation we showed up the next day to see if maybe someone had cancelled, only to watch as the train took off and we waived "bon voyage" to those who booked tickets in advance. We will be back, Verde Canyon Railroad! Next time with tickets in hand.

When you miss out on something, don't sulk. Move on quickly to the next adventure.

Backtracking a little to the rest of Friday night, after discovering the depot and hatching our plan to return the next day to see if we could get lucky, we continued our drive through Clarkdale. The sun had just set when we entered a pretty rundown looking neighborhood. I began rapidly searching for the fastest way out. Living in Phoenix has taught me to fear rough looking neighborhoods with old dilapidated houses after dark. Looking closer, I realized these were intentionally rustic looking buildings and it dawned on me that we had entered a Hippie District. I'm sure that's not the official name for it, but there was nothing to fear other than the possibility of someone offering to show us their artwork. After exiting Clarkdale, we continued on toward Jerome. Although it was night time, it was obvious how beautiful the views would be from the town. We knew this would be on the top of our agenda for Saturday.

We must be getting accustomed to sleeping in cold weather, because we slept fine that night despite 40 degree temps and strong winds. Saturday morning, we surprised to see runners heading through the campgrounds as part of the city's marathon weekend races. The 10k headed right through our camping loop. We had looked into doing a race on Friday night when we found out it was marathon weekend. Although that would have been a great story to tell, the race day prices were a little higher than I wanted to pay just to tell the story of how we ran a race on a whim.

After completing a nice nature hike around the campgrounds and taking the trip to the train depot I mentioned earlier, we visited Tuzigoot National Monument. The size of the adobe built at Tuzigoot is amazing to see. You find yourself imagining what daily life was like 800 years ago living in this ancient apartment complex on a hill. The view of the Verde River Valley is stunning from the location.

Our final stop for the day was returning to Jerome to see how amazing it looked in daylight. The night before I noticed the sign for "Jerome Historic State Park". Considering the views from town were great, I spent the next day dreaming about how great the hiking would be at the "Jerome Historic State Park". State parks and national monuments have been the fallback on these trips for great hiking. However, "Jerome Historic State Park" was not a "state park" in the way I have come to know them. We paid our $7 apiece and I hoped the ranger would hand us our park map with all the hiking trails on it. Apparently, throwing the word "historic" in the title is the Arizona State Parks Department's way of duping nature lovers into going to a "museum". Tricky, tricky move AZ State Parks! I'll be more careful in the future.

Despite the trickery, "Jerome Historic Museum" was alright. One particular piece stood out to me. I was reading one of the displays about the former owner of the mansion that houses the museum, James Douglas, Jr. I realized he kind of fit the ever evolving definition of a wanderer I've been working on in these posts. He went to medical school, but never finished. He started to become a minister, but never finished. Finally he found himself working for Phelps Dodge mining company, creating innovative mining techniques, and eventually becoming the president of the company. If I had to guess, I don't think this was the type of man who worked off 5 year plans. During those early years, I'm sure he was not lost, just wandering. So I guess I'm not totally upset with AZ State Parks for tricking me into learning something.

Our last stop that day was a walk through the town. If there were to be a Holy City of the concept of wandering, Jerome, Arizona would be it. From what I can tell the town is comprised of three things: art studios, bars, and bed and breakfasts. An average Saturday afternoon in Jerome feels like a festival. The streets are filled with people, the bars are packed, and the restaurants are full. Other than the view we had at dinner, the highlight for me was the musician who set up shop in the middle of town. We saw him walking when we first got into town. I know my initial thought was "what an oddball". But when we passed by him signing later in the afternoon, I was blown away. For all I know he could have been the lead singer of a great rock band. On that day he was the best street musician I've ever heard.

Speaking of that view from dinner....

Alright, I realize that this weekend was way too much to pack into one post, so I'll write about Sedona later this week. But let me wrap up with my favorite memory from this week's trip. Like the rest, it had nothing to do with the beautiful scenery, the amazing hiking, or the learning moments I was tricked into having (I will not forget, AZ State Parks!) It was sitting at the campsite Saturday night talking with Jenn. I started asking random questions about her favorite things.

The "game" continued back and forth for a while and eventually moved into the tent. She told me about one of her favorite childhood memories, which led me down the path of thinking about my childhood. I thought about crab apple picking at my grandpa's house and the drives he would take his grandchildren on every Sunday night in the country. I remembered at his funeral how they said he loved to hunt and trap, but this was a side of him I never knew. The only thing I remember was the appreciation he had for the deer we would see on these trips. Even though my love of nature is somewhat new found, those country drives were the early seeds. I wish I could go on one of those drives with him today.

The trips Jenn and I take continue to remind me I'm still learning about her. The more I learn about her the more I remember about myself. This is why I love those moments more than anything I can capture on my camera.