Arizona: A Rugged Beauty

Because there's nothing else to do.

That was one of the first jokes I heard from a native Arizonian. While the hilarity of the joke is questionable, it is somewhat accurate. If one were to compare Arizona to some of its neighboring states - California and Nevada - it would come up short in the areas of 'having something to do.'

Whether it's because of the heat or the sparseness enforced by this heat, there really is not much to do in Arizona.

Except if you know where to look.

Arizona appeals to a certain kind of traveler. The rugged individualist; backpack slung low, cowboy hat tilted to the side, perhaps a dog trailing, panting, asking where the hell is the next air-conditioned pit stop. The traveler squints at the dog, face leathery from the sun, shrugs, says 'you tell me.'

Beneath them, yellow and orange soil. Brush, cacti, the occasional grasshopper - a curiosity, since there is no grass - gray birds flitting about, pecking at who knows what. Hares, rabbits, little gopher-like creatures. This is their company. The dog just snorts as he paddles past ATV trails written shallow on the dirt.

Around them, mountains undulating towards horizons only the most hardcore of explorers would muster enough motivation to discover.

They climb a curiously steep hill. Up. Up.

And the horizon opens. Resorts in the distance, casinos, bars, malls, the promises of the typical modern city.

The traveler turns to his dog. 'Happy?' Dog turns to his companion, shrugs. 'You tell me.'

Arizona can be a very exciting place; one only needs a certain frame of mind - that of appreciating the rought and the sometimes harsh. From the searing pans of the Sonora desert, the art communities of Sedona, to the unexpected skiing town of Flagstaff, the natural resort of the Oak Creek canyons, Arizona is one of America's most underrated states.

Don't even mention the the resorts, the casinos, the bars - they don't let the traveler's dog in. Gas station to gas station, little roadside shacks, the occasional ghost town, undulating mountains, endless vistas peppered by occasional greenery - this is where they are most welcome.

Looking at Arizona in this way, perhaps the joke about the tumbleweed was all wrong. It was crossing the road not because there was nothing else to do, not out of boredom, but because it had places to go to.