A Recovery Day (?), Tom Mix, and 9 hoosegows

Lately I have received some gentle, second-hand flak concerning my dragging Suzanne out for long mountain bike rides in the desert, runs in the heat, and kayaking with snakes and alligators. I feel it is my duty to set the record straight with just one example of our relationship regarding the outdoors and physical fitness/abuse. Yesterday was supposed to be a day of rest; a Recovery Day, as I call it in my schedule, to allow Suzanne to recover from her day-long S.O.A.R! Workshop, since she was on her feet and talking from 8-5 Saturday.


Much to my surprise, the alarm went off Sunday morning at 0530, and My Beloved jumps out of bed saying, "Up and at 'em, sailor... we're going hiking!"... I was hardly able to get a quick cup of coffee brewed and the puppies out for their brief morning constitutional when we're in the car and driving off to the Wind Cave trailhead at Pass Mountain. 


Even at 0630, we were not the first ones on the trail; the parking lot was already half full, with other masochists out trying to beat the heat (predicted to rise to 110F in the shade). Breakfast was an energy bar and a banana (what happened to strawberries and cream, mimosas and omelets?). I was feeling more than a bit hungry when we got to the top. The trip down was considerably faster that the hike up. Here's Our Heroine at the trailhead after the hike, with the mountain in the background. She looks surprisingly chipper, if you ask me. I never did get my mimosa... I had to settle for warm Gatorade. Hummmph!

After our hike, we attended Sunday Services at The Logos Center in Scottsdale with Dr Herb and Rev Anne Puryear, two of the nicest people on the planet. If a couple ever epitomized spiritualism and a love for humanity, it’s Herb and Anne. If you’re ever in the Phoenix/Scottsdale, Arizona area, you must visit The Logos Center for a dose of love and spirituality. It's a beautiful, renowned center for interfaith spirituality, education and holistic healing. 

As we were driving Arizona Route 79 to Tucson, I saw a roadside sign for the Tom Mix Memorial. You may not remember Tom Mix, but he was the first great movie cowboy and Hollywood surperstar, starring in 291 movies, almost all silent.  Tom Mix, with his Wonder Horse "Tony", was "the King of Cowboys" when Ronald Reagan and John Wayne were youngsters, and they both adopted many of his characteristics when portraying cowboys. When an injury caused football player John Wayne to drop out of USC, Tom Mix helped him get a job moving props in the back lot of Fox Studios. Tom Mix died in an auto accident near Florence, Arizona, in 1940. The plaque on the memorial there (at Tom Mix Wash) reads: "In memory of Tom Mix whose spirit left his body on this spot and whose characterization and portrayals in life served to better fix memories of the old West in the minds of living men." 

 Tom Mix's first talking film, Destry Rides Again, was about a wrongly incarcerated cowboy who got his revenge when released from prison. Coincidentally, the nearby town of Florence, AZ, is not as well known for its Renaissance art and sculpture as it is for the nine (9) prisons located here (Pinal County, Arizona State, Federal and private). Here is a look at one facility (the multiple fences with razor wire, guard towers and remote cameras are not well detailed, but are probably quite effective); we recommend that you do not pick up hitchhikers in Florence, particularly if they are wearing faddish orange striped jumpsuits. They probably aren't as nice or heroic as Tom Mix was... funny, the Florence Chamber of Commerce doesn't mention the prisons on their "Welcome to Florence" website... but even funnier, one of the "55 and Over Retirement Communities" backs up to the razorwire fence of one of the correctional facilities. If you're tossing a frisbee in your back yard, and it went over the fence, I guess you might want to consider that one a goner.

Lastly, for clock lovers... The town of Florence ("Where Opportunities are as Wide Open as the Western Range") has a courthouse with a clock tower whose clock has painted (not movable) hands indicating 11:44 (AM or PM, your choice). It is said that they ran low on funding and opted to finish the jail rather than to buy the real clock. Hey, when you're in the hoosegow, does it matter what time it is? (Teaching point: the Americanism "hoosegow" comes from the Spanish word for jail, juscado). See what you learn by watching cowboy movies as a kid?