Serenity beckons in Arizona
“I know better than this,” I was thinking as I hooked my carabiner into the safety line and with shaky legs climbed a ladder into the upper echelons of a Ponderosa Pine tree. The last time I’d done anything like this, at Whistler’s Zipline Tours, I’d vowed I’d never do it again.
But here I was, trying desperately to calm my fears and plant one foot ahead of the other at Flagstaff Extreme in Arizona. Ahead of me lay a daunting array of swings, zip lines and bridges through which other adventurers were navigating the pine forest with happy faces.
I appeared to be the only one showing any fear.
“I’m turning around,” I told my husband, Mark. I’m a far cry from an adrenalin junkie and at 42, I’ve learned my limits. But hubby wasn’t taking no for an answer.
“It’s much easier than it looks,” he coaxed gently. “You can do this. We can do it together.”
I have to admit, he was right.
Though the shakiness never quite disappeared in my two-hour pine-tree adventure, my confidence soared as I wiggled through tubes, skimmed over the branches in an exhilarating tree swing and zipped from one massive trunk to another.
With each level of challenge came a renewed focus on balance, confidence and trust in the safety equipment. By the end, the wind in the treetops was a blessed air conditioner for my sweaty limbs, while my mind was exhilarated by an achievement I never thought possible.
I blame it all on the woman in the supermarket.
We’d come to Sedona, Arizona, to see the famous red rocks, those monolithic red stones that have made the city of 10,000 a magnet for some two million visitors a year.
On Day 1, standing in line at the supermarket, a local burst my bubble about their mysterious vortex energies in seconds.
The vortex stuff was pure nonsense, she told me — a real estate ploy that had got way out of hand.
At every tourist venue, brochures advertise “new age” activities such as ancient healing remedies, spiritual guidance and sacred earth journeys where you can “walk the land for reflection, renewal and peace.”
I’d been open to exploring one or two of them until her comments put me right off.
Still, the view of these magnificent formations that rise 2,000 metres into the sky is quite magnificent.
At the visitors’ centre, I learned they got their blazing red hue from hematite, an iron oxide deposited as water seeped through layers of sandstone millions of years ago.
Over time, the dunes have been moulded by the elements into artistic sculptures with multi-layered spirals, hills, buttes and camelback shapes. Those spirals extend into the sky as if gesturing heavenward, forming a vivid, startling backdrop to everything in Sedona.
November in Sedona is hot during the daylight hours, hot enough to deter visitors from exploring the hiking trails or renting mountain bikes.
We opted for a more sedentary activity: a bumpy pink jeep tour in the Coconino National Forest, just minutes from Sedona’s bustling and very touristy retail strip.
Our guide pointed out agave plants, prickly pear cactus and Arizona cypress trees, and later, when our stomachs had calmed down a bit, we window-shopped through the uptown district, sampling the fruit of the desert: syrupy sweet, prickly pear ice cream and plates of hot cactus fries.
Before heading back to Phoenix for our flight home, we spent a morning on an ATV tour a half-hour from Sedona in Prescott National Forest.
Content to be a passenger, I let hubby play driver on our new ATV as we followed Mary McDowall, owner of Arizona Offroad Tours, on a 40-kilometre excursion into the hilly Verde Valley.
We powered up dirt roads, taking sharp turns and zooming noisily along dry creek beds created by flash floods during monsoon season. It was a striking contrast to the boutiques and gift shops we’d been browsing a day earlier in Sedona, McDowell agreed.
“You go to Sedona, you’re going to see Ferraris,” she said. “It’s touristy. But if you’re an outdoor person, this is the place for you, because there’s nature everywhere.”