We thought when we bought the house in Arizona we would be inundated with springtime visitors. The visits have not transpired, largely because we keep forgetting that most of the people we hoped would visit have those annoying little things called JOBS.

Bec and I enjoy Saguaro Lake.

Over the past months, we talked about going here or there, but would always say, “We can do that when someone comes to see us.”

Now time is getting short here in the desert. Bill and I plan on leaving for Denver soon, hoping to arrive just before the birth of our newest grandchild. We decided it was time to think of some of the things we wanted to do and, as Nike proclaims, JUST DO IT.

Our house is smack dab in the middle of the Sonoran Desert, which boasts some of the most beautiful scenery in nature – the saguaro cactus being probably the most distinctive and I think most beautiful.  I never get tired of looking at them poking jauntily out of the clay earth on the sides of the mountains or in the desert.  While we’re located in Mesa, we don’t have to drive very far to be out in the middle of the desert, and that’s what we decided to do one day last week.

Tortilla Flat

There’s a popular legend prevalent in this part of the state. Back in the 1800s, miner Jacob Waltz purportedly struck gold but died without telling anyone where his mine was located. There’s still supposed to be gold in them thar hills, but no one has been able to find it. (There’s probably a good reason for that, but who am I to ruin a perfectly good legend?) So every year people make their way up onto Superstition Mountain to look for the Lost Dutchman Mine. In fact, a number of people have died trying to find their way to millionaire status, most recently a man from Colorado.

Every once in a while Bill will say to me, “Let’s go find the Lost Dutchman Mine and become millionaires.” We decided instead to just drive our car over to Tortilla Flat, a tiny little tourist trap on the other side of Superstition. The drive was beautiful, with a stop at Canyon Lake along the way.

The next day we decided to make our way up to the top of Microwave Mountain, which is walking distance to our house. From the top (which involves a fairly steep climb), you can see the whole of the Superstition Mountain, as well as a panoramic view of our neighborhood, including our house. We like to do it at least once when we’re here. Jen and I have actually found a couple of geocaches along the route. And I’m pretty sure I saw the Lost Dutchman Mine from the top! Might need to make another trip back into the mountains next week.

This past weekend we decided to leave the comfort of our neighborhood and make our way to where the other half lives – Scottsdale. More specifically, we went to Old Town Scottsdale and visited an Italian Festival. Quite frankly, we were disappointed in the festival, but delighted to walk around Old Scottsdale and people watch. The one highlight at the festival – this delicious pizza from Pomo Pizzaria Napoletana. Just like the pizzas we ate in Italy. The folks running the booth actually spoke to each other in Italian. Funny thing was, when they handed me my pizza, without thinking, I said, “Grazie.”

But perhaps we saved the best for last. Yesterday, Bill and Bec and I played the ultimate tourists and took a boat tour of Saguaro Lake.

We started out with lunch on the restaurant patio overlooking the lake. After lunch, we climbed onto the tour boat, and were grateful to have upgraded our tickets to allow us to board first. As a result, we got the best seats on the boat – upper deck, right out front.  And what a ride we got. Saguaro Lake connects up with a couple of other lakes and the whole kit and caboodle includes some dams that provide water for the metro area and help us water our golf courses. Oh well.

Our tour guide/captain was entertaining, and though he undoubtedly gives the same spiel 20-plus times a week, he gave us interesting information and sounded like he was telling his stories for the first time. Our tour included sightings of hawks, mountain goats, and turkey vultures (which seemed to hang around the boat, perhaps aware that the average age of the boat’s passengers was 85 and someone could keel over at any point).

Can you see the mountain goats standing way at the top?

Things went fine until a gust of wind blew my empty can into the water and the people sitting next to me looked at me like I had dumped a plastic bag of empty PBR cans into the lake. I’m sorry, People! I promise I couldn’t catch it in time. I wasn’t about to dive into the water. See yesterday’s post about not being able to swim.

There are a few more things we would like to see yet before we head home, but the rest of this week will be concentrated on the upcoming wedding of my niece — a wedding over which my husband will be presiding!