Moving up in elevation

I'm back in Tucson after my week of dog-sitting. I'm trying to find the humor in 105°F and 7% humidity. Is it funny? I feel as if it ought to be but the joke is just out of reach. I think my brain might be overheating. At last, summer has come to the desert. The swamp cooler sitting in the gravel outside my bathroom labors mightily to hold the inside air to something bearable. The fan roars just outside my bedroom door. I'm lucky to have a burrow to be trapped in. Living in a car would be death in this kind of heat. 

My dear Phoenix friend returned from her vacation on Thursday. The next day we put Maddie, the chihuahua/ poodle/ neurotic nutcase, into the back of her Tesla and embarked on a short road trip to some copper mining towns in the Verde Valley. The temperature dropped a few degrees with each thousand-foot rise in elevation. The cactuses that I've learned to disdain gave way to trees. We got stuck in a traffic jam on I-17 (caused by somebody's utility trailer catching fire) and learned how many watts of electricity a Tesla uses even when it's not moving. Once we got past that spectacle, the highway opened back up to full speed ahead. Before long, we found the way to Cottonwood, where I had an excellent cheese quesadilla in a charming cafe. My friend enjoyed a generous humus plate. After lunch, we walked up one side of Main Street and back on the other, carrying the dog over the patches of hot asphalt. 

It was an educational trip in many ways. We both failed to bring dog food on the trip, or a dish, so we bought dog food at a Safeway and fed it to Maddie from our cupped hands. We learned how to find Tesla superchargers, a feat that required driving in circles more than once. After my epic road trip, which entailed a lot of retracing and backtracking while the GPS lady admonished me, I am reassured to know even Tesla's GPS maps don't always get it right. 

If you are one of those people who always knows where they are going, you should try getting lost once in a while. I know from extensive experience, getting lost is a great way to see a place.

We finally found a supercharger in Sedona. At last, I got to see the famous red cliffs people rave about. I didn't actually like those looming cliffs all that much. Nor did I feel those ley lines or the hoodoo energy people come here to find. The fake touristy vibe reminded me of some southern California beach towns I've seen, where nothing is authentic and everything is a show.

In contrast, I really liked the downhome simple vibe of Cottonwood. I could see myself living there. It reminds me a bit of Eastern Oregon: dry air, summer heat, pine forests, small-town charm, slow pace.

It won't cool off much tonight, even though it's dark now. At this moment, the NWS says 99°F outside. The AC labors on. Should I come out of the burrow and sniff the air? Tomorrow is soon enough. In the morning, I'll emerge to forage for food and check my mailbox, like I usually do on Monday mornings. I'll be back in the burrow before 10 am, before the sun gets too high and burns me to a crisp. 

Meanwhile, monsoon is ten days late.