Mapping Sedona

A map can be a key to adventure.

I'm delighted! A couple days ago, I learned that Rio Nuevo Publishers released the Sedona Map and Guide, a project that I worked on throughout 2012. This feels a little like sending a child off to college, then realizing when they come home for a visit that they've grown into someone remarkable. In a sense, I’ve worked on this project the entire 25 years I’ve lived in Arizona, collecting experiences and memories, seasons and stories. 

I realize that a number of people today think that maps will go the way of dinosaurs, thanks to GPS technology. But I love maps the same way I love books, as ink-on-paper talismans that hold potential riches of story and adventure. Of course, no piece of paper can truly represent the fullness of being in the landscape, but I think we came close with this project.

The main talent behind this map is Bronze Black, a Flagstaff designer/illustrator and river guide who produced a similar project, his Grand Canyon Superguide. In addition to trail information, Bronze incorporated my text and dazzling photography from Larry Lindahl, George H. H. Huey, and others, photographers whose work has been featured on the pages of Arizona Highways magazine. Dave Jenney, Caroline Cook, and the supremely talented folks at Rio Nuevo Publishers shepherded the map through the final stages, making sure it was not only accurate and useful but also an object of beauty.

I’d like to think that our enthusiasm for getting to know Sedona via mountain biking (in Bronze’s case) and hiking (my case) shines through. We wanted to convey Red Rock Country as an experience—not merely a beautiful landscape to admire from afar, but as a place of hidden canyons, fascinating history, wildflowers and wildlife, and awe-inspiring geology—all accessible and waiting to be explored.

Even if a two-dimensional rectangle of paper can’t hold the entire spectrum of Sedona, I hope this map will become a key for people to unlock their own experiences.

One thing leads to another...

Sedona's winter sunsets are glorious.

As autumn blew into winter, and winter is now shifting—ever so skittishly—toward spring, I’ve been thinking a lot about transitions. Something about a season’s changing always leaves me feeling a bit unsatisfied, usually because I haven’t traveled, hiked, written, or lived as much as I’d hoped to during that particular time period. It feels like loose ends or unfinished business.

Similarly, transitions are important in writing, getting smoothly from one sentence or paragraph or chapter to the next. When I don’t take the time to add missing transitions as I’m polishing a piece, it feels unfinished and choppy. Transitioning from one idea to the next may be as simple as adding a single word to show relationship: “Now.” “Next.” “Then.” A complex idea might require a phrase or sentence to summarize before the writing continues.

But sometimes that transition or lead-in may be as subtle as echoing structure, sound, or rhythm. Techniques like alliteration (repeating a sound) are usually associated with children’s stories, poetry, and songwriting, but they can be effective in prose if they aren’t overdone. And deliberately amusing when they are: One of my favorite books, Nancy E. Shaw’s delightful Sheep Take a Hike, makes me smile every time I think about it. The language of the story pulls the reader along as much as the tale itself does. 

Language is a rich medium that offers endless possibilities beyond mere communication. Adding transitions, especially in casual writing like an email message or a blog post, may seem like a detail that’s unnecessarily time-consuming. Or maybe even a little condescending, like scattering breadcrumbs along a trail where the destination is clearly in sight. But transitions make the journey easier and sometimes even fun.

Now, if only winter would take the hint….

Visit Grand Canyon fee free today

Grand Canyon visitors enjoy a South Rim sunset.

Today Grand Canyon National Park is celebrating Martin Luther King Day with FREE admission. MLK Day marks the first of several fee-free dates in 2013, including April 22-26 (National Park Week), August 25 (National Park Service’s birthday), September 28 (National Public Lands Day), and November 9-11 (Veterans Day weekend). Though most national parks, forests, and wildlife refuges don’t charge entry fees, Grand Canyon’s $25/vehicle entry fee is among the highest, making the park’s annual fee-free dates a good time to plan a trip.

Especially for families or budget travelers, fee-free days offer an opportunity to participate in what Wallace Stegner called “the best idea we ever had. Absolutely American, absolutely democratic.” The establishment of the National Park Service in 1916 meant we could set aside tracts of land and historic treasures for future generations to enjoy, and today, almost every community in the U.S. can boast a nearby preserve. In Arizona alone, we count 18 national parks and monuments, 6 national forests, and another half-dozen or so national historic sites, recreation areas, and wildlife refuges.

Whether it’s a walk in the woods or that time-honored American tradition, the family road trip, it’s crucially important to take time out for nature. Today, when our dazzling modern inventions take us farther from the natural world, that’s more true than ever. (Ever read The Last Child in the Woods by Richard Louv? It’s a stunning examination of how “nature-deficit disorder” impacts mental and emotional development.) And, speaking as someone whose work involves sitting at a desk for long stretches, exploring nature is the best way to get up and get moving.

Showing up for fee-free days is also a way of participating in the democratic process. I could rant about how starving our parks of public funding is a blatant attempt at promoting privatization, but I’ll resist. And I could add that creeping privatization leads to higher entry fees, which in turn leads to an elitist system, but I’ll resist that as well. (I could also point out that those who protest fees are grabbing the wrong end of the stick … but who can blame them for taking that route, considering the current Congressional climate?)

So instead I will encourage everyone to vote with their feet and beat a trail to the nearest park to enjoy our national heritage!

Winter in Sedona

A storm breaks after leaving snow on Sedona's Capitol Butte.

During winter, the natural world seems to sleep. In Sedona, however, the winter months seem more like a magician’s spell. Autumn’s high tourist season is long past, and holiday visitors are gone. It’s this quiet, spellbound time that many of the town’s residents cherish as a chance to rest and reconnect with the attractions that inspired them to move here.

For visitors, this “off season” is a good time to rub elbows with locals and experience the natural world as it re-gathers energy for spring. And while the human social calendar is a bit thinner in January and February, Mother Nature continues to put on a show. Occasionally, snow dusts the tops of the red rocks, and sometimes a storm will blanket the forest floor, making it easier to see who’s been wandering the winter wonderland.

Tiny cloven prints a few inches apart belong to collared peccaries. Better known as javelinas, they forage in neighborhoods during winter months, parents and older sibs protecting the younger ones. Javelinas can reproduce year-round, and though most babies are born to coincide with the summer monsoon, two tiny brown-and-pink “piglets” showed up in my neighborhood in December. The precocious piggies trot along with the rest of the family band shortly after birth. Another morning, I watched nine mule deer cross the street and head into the forest, and last week a bobcat paused in the driveway. The ground is still damp from the last snowstorm, and trails boast a mosaic of prints.

Though days are short, the low angle of the sun sends rays deep into the alcoves where the prehistoric Sinagua Indians built their pueblos, and hikers may be surprised by the warmth of these original “passive solar homes.” In late afternoon, the setting sun burnishes Sedona’s red rocks, an especially dazzling sight if a breaking storm has topped the high peaks with snow, creating a contrast of light and dark, ice and fire. Nights are long and cold, but the air is crisp, and stars sparkle brilliantly.

By the end of January, nature is already beginning to stir. Manzanita and sugar bush show pink blossoms and buds in sunny locations, and green shoots mark future wildflowers. Sedona’s trails, always inviting, are lightly visited this time of year. Most of Arizona’s winter visitors tend to stick around the Sonoran Desert, where car auctions, the Phoenix Open golf tournament, and Scottsdale’s horse shows offer plenty of entertainment, and temperatures are a warm respite from harsher climates.

Sometimes, there’s a good reason to avoid visiting a popular location during the off-season, such as seasonal closures or unfriendly weather. But while Sedona’s winter weather is 10 to 20 degrees colder than the lower Sonoran Desert, it’s still relatively mild year round. Winter visitors to Red Rock Country will find Groupons or discounts on hotels and spa services, two-for-one restaurant specials, daytime highs around 50, and perhaps a dusting of snow.

In February the social calendar begins to pick up once more. The Sedona Marathon gets things moving on February 2, 2013, and five days later, Sedona’s first-ever yoga festival opens. By the end of the month, when the red carpet rolls out for the Sedona International Film Festival, daffodils and fruit trees are starting to blossom, and the town is already gearing up for spring break crowds.

Until then, Sedona rests quietly under winter’s spell….

Grand Canyon Mystery

Congratulations, Grand Canyon--old as the ages and still stirring up controversy and intrigue! I read this article in the New York Times today with great interest, not just because it’s about one of my favorite places, but also because it reminds me of one of my favorite quotes: 

“The fairest thing we can experience is the mysterious” —Albert Einstein

Taking pleasure in reading about scientists' continuing disagreement on Grand Canyon's geologic age isn't to say I don’t appreciate advances in science or that I don’t make the effort to research the name of a plant or the origin and age of a pottery sherd. But there’s something about the unknowable that holds magic: When we can put a label on a thing or explain it thoroughly, it loses a bit of its wildness.

But no matter if science determines whether Grand Canyon is old or young (geologically speaking), it will always be grand enough to hold many mysteries.

And after all, isn't it mystery that beckons us onward, inspiring us to travel, to write, to paint, to understand?

Living with deadlines

Aspens in autumn, Flagstaff, Arizona

Getting projects done on time is definitely a big part of a writer’s life. Someone once suggested to me that I should start referring to my deadlines as “lifelines.” His reasoning was that even thinking the word “dead” was bound to create negativity and stress. I saw his point. Furthermore, saying “I'm working late because I have a lifeline” would better reflect that writing is my livelihood, something that supports me.

But the new terminology never stuck, and years later, I’m still saying and thinking “deadline,” even though other options abound. Due date? (Working on a book is a bit like a pregnancy and delivery, especially the labor aspect.) Completion date? (Blah.) Target date? (Nope—creates a sense of anxiety that I might miss the target.) I’d like to call it a “freedom date,” but that may lure my focus away from the project at hand to the fun that beckons beyond it. 

Try as I might to create balance—put more life into a deadline—things still tend to come to a standstill when my focus narrows to one project, one date. Less urgent projects (and blogging) get shoved to the side. Personal trips are cancelled. Creativity leaks away from other areas like cooking and gardening. Life dies a little bit.

The idea that a word or label creates its own reality might be considered New Age, but it isn’t new. For centuries, humans have uttered mantras and prayers. Across different cultures and religions, creation and completion is linked to sound or word or logos—om, amen, shalom, salaam. We shout “Abracadabra” to create magic, or write “I will [fill in the blank]” a hundred times when we (or our schoolteachers) desire change. Words hold power. 

Hemingway said that he once revised a passage 39 times in order to “get the words right.” I haven’t yet found the right word or phrase to replace “deadline.” But I’d like to think that I continue to add more awareness to the term. Death, after all, is just another transformation. It’s as essential to life as winter is to the cycle of seasons, an in-gathering of energy before a fresh burst of creation. Without a deadline, I’d probably keep tinkering away on the same old project instead of beginning something new.

Deadlines. Can’t live with them. Can’t live without them.

Take a Hike: Cathedral Rock

Cathedral Rock Trail is a classic Sedona hike.

Cathedral Rock, a monumental red sandstone formation in the center of the Sedona area, is one of the most-photographed scenes in Arizona. The classic view is along Oak Creek from the west, at Crescent Moon Ranch and Red Rock Crossing. (Scenic Red Rock Loop Road leads to this day-use area, a great spot for a picnic or a gentle stroll along the creek.) 

But it’s possible to climb to the very heart of the Cathedral’s sandstone spires, beginning from the formation’s northeast side. Some people say that the spires are where Cathedral’s vortex energy is concentrated. If you’re curious about Sedona’s vortex sites, a hike here is the perfect opportunity to see for yourself if all the buzz about Sedona’s special energy is mere hype or a genuine phenomenon.

For the trailhead, drive south on State Route 179 from its intersection with State Route 89A. At 3.5 miles, turn right at Back O’ Beyond Road and continue a half-mile to the parking area on the left. If you’re afraid of heights or unsteady on your feet, think twice about making this moderately difficult hike. Though it’s a mere 1.5 miles round-trip, it’s steep, with ledges and toeholds in some places. In places, the trail travels over bare slickrock; the forest service has marked the route with numerous rock cairns.

Once you arrive at the top, you can enjoy the views of the Chapel area to the east. Look for the two red rock spires known as The Nuns. To the west, Oak Creek’s meandering route is marked by a green band of trees that turn gold in autumn. A short scramble south leads to the base of the tall spire in the center of Cathedral Rock, known as The Mace. Do you feel the vortex vibe? Or is it simply the exhilaration of making an invigorating hike to an amazingly beautiful place?