photography: Ray Kachatorian
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Desert road trips can be trippy. After a winter that lingered a month too long, I decided to head to Arizona's southeast corner for a long weekend of dry sunshine. I fly into Tucson and suddenly all is peachy. I check in to a comfortable, laid-back-luxury, Southwest-style resort, Hacienda del Sol; stroll the university districts of Fourth and University Avenue for funky shops, local artwork, and food with some peppery kick; then explore a cactus-lined trail up a desert canyon in Saguaro National Park. Back to the resort for a massage, a soak in the hot tub, and wine. Tucson rocks, I'm thinking.The next day I rent a car and head out of town, southeast, painting myself deeper into the tan, sage, and blue-skied corner where Mexico, New Mexico, and Arizona rub elbows. Desert roads like these make me feel like I'm on a raised Jetsons tram, only it's an orange Martian landscape, not black space. The views never cease as I seemingly float between the mountain-range islands dotting the vast landscape between Tucson and Bisbee. Sometimes I pull off the road and start walking toward a ridge, maybe climb up to the top of a little plateau. Why not? Who's watching out here (aside from the U.S. Border Patrol)? I can feel the sun, the air is dry, and I can see for dozens of miles. No Tucson in the rearview anymore, just a line of blacktop and openness. I'm loving the corner. It gets better when I arrive in Bisbee. Buried in a small range of mountains that give the town a cool retreat-from-the-heat climate at 5,300 feet elevation, Bisbee seems to have been built in one of the precious metal mines that put it on the map. Main Street wanders down the center of the tight valley like a small stream in a canyon of old brick and wood, at first glance not much different from the Wild West days when gold fever made Bisbee as hot a spot as San Francisco or Denver.
photography: Ray Kachatorian
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Narrow streets adorned with funky houses wind up steep slopes connected by a labyrinth of concrete steps popular enough to have their own annual footrace—the Bisbee 1000. The Copper Queen Hotel dominates the cityscape with its Old West design. The local coffee shop, a healthy lunch spot, and a gourmet dinner tempt me to stay in town, but a road trip into the empty desert has me looking for something a little on the quirky side of stylish . . . vintage trailer stylish.I find just what I'm looking for in a permanently parked 1947 Airporter bus at the Shady Dell Campground. If a sky blue-painted vintage bus decorated like a tiki bar doesn't lift my spirits and warm my core, I'm a lost cause. For cocktail hour, I enjoy a frothy beverage in the driver's swivel seat, one arm rested on the big white steering wheel, one hand on the steel door opening lever, and one foot flat on the gas. Luckily, the thing doesn't move from its deck-side perch. Behind me I've got a full kitchen, table with booth, record player, VCR, double bed, and center aisle that lights up red. What more do I need? Maybe pancakes, my ultimate comfort food no matter what the hour.
photography: Ray Kachatorian
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On my way across the Shady Dell lot to the on-site Dot's Diner, I pass a parked yacht and nine vintage Airstream trailers, all for rent and all remarkably clean, cozy, and authentic to their legendary era. Dot's is a legend in itself. Over 50 years ago, it sat on L.A.'s Ventura Boulevard as John Hart's Burger Bar No. 3, but the shiny little bubble dulled after being abandoned in a remote California canyon. In the mid 1990s, the current owners found the griddle on wheels, rolled it to Bisbee, shined 'er up, and opened for business. 
photography: Ray Kachatorian
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Now I indulge in coffee and a couple of fried eggs, and, of course, a stack of pancakes. As I chat with other visitors and the waitstaff, I understand the philosophy of Dot's founder, who said, "The most lonely time is when you have to eat alone, but you couldn't sit at the counter without getting involved in conversation."All this fresh air, clear skies, open roads, and conversation in chrome bubbles was just what the doctor ordered. Now if I can just find my way out of this delightful Southwest corner. |
