Blue Highways: Phoenix, Arizona

Unfolding the Map

Click on Thumbnail for MapA mysterious castle lies in Phoenix, its story almost good enough for a William Least Heat-Moon (LHM) book.  If only he'd known.  But you, Littourati, will get the story from me.  Click on the thumbnail of the map at right to place Phoenix on your mental and physical map of Blue Highways. 

Book Quote

"By last light, I came into the city named after the bird forever reborn from the ashes of what it has been."

Blue Highways: Part 4, Chapter 14

Phoenix Mystery Castle. Photo by Walt Lockley and seen at Exploring America Travel Guide. Click on photo to go to site.

Phoenix, Arizona

As I mentioned in the last post, I have visited Phoenix once (if you don't count pass-throughs in the airport).  I have to say that I don't remember much of Phoenix.  My wife and I drove to Phoenix to visit a friend who lived there at the time.  We went to an Ethiopian restaurant, which was fun because in Albuquerque, we don't have Ethiopian food.  Otherwise, nothing really stands out for me there.

But there was one thing that I remember pretty vividly about Phoenix.  If you know me, you know that I am very interested in things that are off the beaten path or even weird and strange.  Somehow, I found out about the Mystery Castle, and that's what remains first in my memory of Phoenix.  Otherwise, the only other thing I remember about Phoenix was that it was hot and that it is a sprawling place in the desert.  My wife, who doesn't usually hold back on her opinions, thought that Phoenix is a lot like Los Angeles but not as interesting.  I withhold my opinion on that, because until about seven years ago I had never been to LA and thought there was no reason to go there - just like a typical Northern Californian.  And, having experienced Houston - a city that's big and sprawling and yet has a lot of wonderful things to find if one is willing to search - I know that gems can be found anywhere.

But the Mystery Castle was a fascinating place with a fascinating story.  In fact, it was such a fascinating story that I'm surprised it didn't catch the attention of LHM, who seems intrigued when he runs across interesting stories and interesting people to go with them.

What little girl doesn't want to be a princess with her own castle at some point in her life?  The Mystery Castle story begins with a man, Boyce Luther Gulley, who left his wife and little daughter, Mary Lou, in Seattle, never to return.  It's not a very good beginning to a princess story, but hold on.

Gulley moved to Phoenix because he was harboring a terrible secret.  He had tuberculosis, and he wasn't expected to live long.  One of his favorite pasttimes with Mary Lou was to make sand castles on the beach, but when the waves came in and destroyed the castles she was always disappointed.  He decided that his last legacy to her would be to build her a castle in the desert that could never be washed away.

Gulley found a piece of land under Phoenix' South Mountain, ostensibly to revive an old copper-mining claim.  But he began to build his castle stone by stone, brick by hand-made brick.  Since the land was near the city dump, he found metals and other materials that he recycled and used in the building of the castle.

Fifteen years after he left his family, and a lot longer than he expected to live, Gulley died.  By then, his castle had grown to five floors.  A telegram notified Mary Lou that she had inherited a house in Phoenix.  Then, she received a last letter from her father in the mail where he informed her of a "home" that he had built her.  She went to Phoenix with her mother, and soon after saw her castle rising out of the desert.

Mary Lou lived until November, 2010.  Not long after taking possession of the castle, she began to give tours of the place and told her story to curious tourists.  Life Magazine did a full article on her in the 1950s, painting her as a veritable princess in the desert.  It was that article that coined the name Mystery Castle.

But living in the castle was just the beginning of the mystery.  Her father had left little things for Mary Lou to find.  A loose stone, when pulled out, led to a cascade of nickels and dimes amounting to $74 pouring out of the hole.  There were other niches with surprises like gold nuggets.  A note from her father told Mary Lou of a trap door that she should not open until 1948.  On New Years Day, 1948 the old lock from a Mexican jail was pried off and she opened the trap door to reveal a photo of her father, a valentine card she had sent him when she was seven, some gold ore and two $500 bills.

When we visited, Mary Lou was still alive.  The tour was given by a hired docent, but Mary Lou still held court, so to speak, in her living room and answered questions.  Though elderly, she seemed to lose her years as she spoke of the castle, her father, and its secrets.  She believed that it still held some more surprises in out of the way places.

Since Mary Lou's death, the fate of the castle remains unknown.  Possession of the castle may be taken by the State of Arizona.  It is listed on the Phoenix Historic Property Register and has been named a Phoenix Point of Pride.  In the meantime, tours there continue and revenue collected from visitors on tour and in the gift shop help maintain the building.

If you want to see the Mystery Castle, you must get yourself to 800 East Mineral Rd in Phoenix, Arizona.  The phone number is (602) 268-1581.  It's well worth a trip, though the description of "castle" is a little over-the-top (don't lead your kids to believe it is like a fairy castle).  It just goes to show that for some girls, dreams of being a princess can come true. Furthermore, the story of Boyce Luther Gulley and his creation arising out of the junk and earth of a city named for a bird forever resurrecting itself is extremely fitting.  Above all, it demonstrates a father's love for the girl he left behind, but never forgot.

Musical Interlude

The story of Mary Lou Gulley is a story about unexpectedly becoming a princess, or at least being perceived as one.  However, the story is bittersweet as her ascension to royalty was due to the death of a man who loved her enough to build her a castle.  It makes me think of the poignant and haunting Crosby, Stills and Nash song Guinnevere.  Guinevere became a princess too, and experienced the joy of possessing lands, riches and fame and had a husband who loved her.  She also experienced the pain of finding that her true love was someone else, and this discovery meant pain and misery for many around her, and the destruction of the utopian happiness that was King Arthur's Camelot.  For every dream realized, and for every love gained, there is some sort of price to be paid.

If you want to know more about Phoenix

Arizona Republic (newspaper)
Arizona State University
Chow Bella (food blog)
Phoenix New Times (alternative newspaper)
RailLife (blog)
Read Phoenix (list of Phoenix blogs)
VisitPhoenix.com
Wikipedia: Phoenix

About.com: Mystery Castle
Phoenix ASAP: Mystery Castle
Wikipedia: Mystery Castle

Next up:  Payson, Arizona

Blue Highways: Tucson, Arizona

Unfolding the Map

Click on Thumbnail for MapWe stop in Tucson for gas...but since I've been there once I get a chance to write a little about it even though William Least Heat-Moon (LHM) is not willing to stay.  We'll let him cool his jets for a moment while we consider the tourism industry and cactus.  Tucson is right at the end of the blue highway line on the thumbnail of our map at right.  Click it to see where we are.

Book Quote

"In Tucson, I stopped for gas along a multilane called Miracle Mile (they love that appellation in the West) congested like an asthmatic bronchial tube; then back to the highway."

Blue Highways: Part 4, Chapter 14

A hotel along the Miracle Mile in Tucson, Arizona. Photo by David Sanders at Takegreatpictures.com. Click on photo to go to site.

Tucson, Arizona

I was telling someone, who had read this blog and was complimenting me about it, that it is almost easier to write about LHM's stops that I have not visited than those places where I have.  Why?  It partially relates to my last post, I guess, about the sense of wonder one might get when one reads about or sees something new.  Another thing about writing on places that I have not physically visited is that my unfamiliarity frees me.  The Littourati reader may notice that a lot of my posts only tangentially have to do with the place in the title of the posts.  Instead, the posts are about what comes to my mind when reading the quote from the piece of literature on which I am focusing.  If I don't know about the place, it is useless for me to try to pretend that I do.  I provide links at the end if you want to know more about a particular place.  What you, the reader, are getting with most of these posts are whatever thoughts, feelings or emotions come to me connected with the name of the place, or the words in the quote about the place.  That's why Texas Canyon, Arizona and LHM's quote about it can lead me to speculate on the sense of wonder, or why Portal, Arizona leads me to write on doorways and passages, rather than characteristics of these places that I've never seen.  I am not shackled to my experiences, and therefore, I am free to roam wherever I wish.

Not so Tucson, as I made my first trip there in 2010.  I can count on one hand, at this point, the places that LHM visits with which I have personal experience, but this stop and the next, Phoenix, I have visited.  I have memories to associate with Tucson, and that will have to influence what I write about it.

The occasion of my visit to Tucson was due to my wife's position as president of the Journalism and Women Symposium (JAWS), a national women's media organization.  She was tasked to visit potential sites for their 2012 national conference, and Tucson was one of three cities that was being considered.  Tucson met their requirements.  Since the conferences were first conceived as being like a "camp," all of their national conferences must be in places that allow easy access to outdoor activities such as hiking.  Tucson, tucked up against the Catalina Mountains and Saguaro National Park, fit the bill.

She and I did a death march over a weekend through five potential properties that wanted to host the conference.  Each place fed us, gave us gifts such as wine, cheese and other goodies, or gave us a room for the night.  Often these rooms were presidential suites bigger than the house in which we live in Albuquerque.  Because the economy was in recession, the Tucson Convention and Visitors Bureau was making an all out push for business.

She settled on a property she liked, and then Arizona passed its law allowing the police to stop and question people if they thought they might be illegal immigrants.  This law caused great controversy because the assumption was that people who looked Hispanic or Latino would be targeted by the police.  My wife and her board heard from a number of JAWS members, some of whom were of Hispanic or Latino descent, that they would not be comfortable going to Arizona.  Concerned with the possibility that many of their members would not come to the conference, the board chose another site outside Arizona.

I did get some lasting impressions of Tucson, however.  Everyone was very nice to us.  It may be that they simply wanted my wife's business, but it seemed genuine.  Before visiting, I never realized that a city landlocked in the desert could be such a resort city.  Of course, I'd known of Palm Springs, California, which is also a resort city in the desert, but from Palm Springs one can drive to the coast if one wants.  It's a little more complicated to get to water in Tucson.  However, there were pools if one wanted a dip, plus all the other perks of resort cities such as golf courses, salons and spas.  There were also outdoors activities such as golf, hiking, and tours through the wilderness.

I also never realized before visiting Tucson that it is a foodie town.  A number of famous chefs, chefs who are in perennial consideration for major awards like that given by the James Beard Foundation, live and own restaurants there.  The food we ate was excellent and eclectic, having a southwest desert flair but holding its own with cuisines of other U.S. locations.

Cactus blossom in Tucson. photo by Michael L. Hess.My favorite part of Tucson, however, was much more sedate.  We were there during the season in which the cactus blooms.  Of course, Arizona is associated with the large saguaro cactus, whose height and outstretched arms make it look like a green, spiny giant human praying toward the clouds.  But there are lots of smaller variety of cacti, and the blooms are beautiful in bright yellows, deep purples and vibrant reds.  I spent some time taking pictures of the cacti, and while I never thought much of desert succulents, I think that the variety and the beauty of them in Tucson made me a fan.

Saguaro cactus. Photo by Michael L. HessThere are certain cities I'd go back to, and I have to say Tucson is one of them.  I didn't have the experience LHM had, but in Blue Highways he intentionally tries to avoid cities as much as possible and gets a little, shall we say, cranky when he has to go through or around one.  In a way, I understand.  I was raised a small town boy.  But I've come to appreciate cities and the things I can find in them that I couldn't if I were still living in a small town or a rural area.  I've written about the benefits and pitfalls of small towns in past posts, but since my living situations as an adult have been varied, I value cities and accept them despite the fact that they can present some problems such as traffic, crime, noise, etc.  It's my wife's influence on me as she is always excited about cities and never ceases to show me the wonders that I'd miss if I didn't live in one.

Sunset in Tucson. Photo by Michael L. Hess

Musical Interlude

In honor of Tucson and it's cacti, I offer you Jacques Dutronc's 1967 song, Les Cactus.  I want to thank my good friend Sarah in Detroit for introducing me to this song and artist.

If you want to know more about Tucson

Arizona Daily Star (newspaper)
Arizona Webcam in Tucson
Official Tucson Travel Information
Roadfood.com Tucson Restaurants
Slow Food Tucson
Tucson Cowgirl (blog)
Tucson Daily Photo (blog)
Tucson Food (blog)
Tucson Querido (blog)
Tucson Weekly (alternative newspaper)
University of Arizona
Wikipedia: Tucson

Next up: Phoenix, Arizona

Blue Highways: Texas Canyon, Arizona

Unfolding the Map

Click on Thumbnail for MapTexas Canyon in Arizona gives us a chance to look at our sense of wonder and what it means.  We also get a musical interlude that I picked because it once made me wonder and enchanted me.  To see where Texas Canyon lines up on our William Least Heat-Moon (LHM) Blue Highways trip map, click the thumbnail at right.

Book Quote

"The highway rose slowly for miles then dropped into wacky Texas Canyon, an abrupt and peculiar piling of boulders, which looked as if hoisted into strange angles and points of balance.  Nature in a zany mood had stacked up the rounded rocks in whimsical and impossible ways, trying out new principles of design, experimenting with old laws of gravity, putting theorems of the physicists to the test.  But beyond Texas Canyon, the terrain was once more logical and mundane right angles, everything flat or straight up."

Blue Highways: Part 4, Chapter 14

Texas Canyon, Arizona at sunset. Photo by LouisSaint on Panoramio. Click photo to go to site.

Texas Canyon, Arizona

Occasionally I find something that is so odd, so extremely out of place, that it makes me pause in wonder.

The Mystery Spots, those places where gravity supposedly doesn't work correctly, are not it.  If you haven't been to a Mystery Spot, you might want to pull off the road if you happen across one.  I know of two.  There is one in Santa Cruz, California and another in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.  When my wife and I were driving through "da UP," as they call it in Wisconsin, we pulled off when we saw one.  It becomes clear that the "mystery" is strangely angled floors, walls, trees and other landmarks that trick your brain.  Rather than wonder at the supposed mystery, I wondered that some enterprising and entrepreneurial people thought of such an attraction, and that people such as myself pay money to see it.  That's not a natural wonder, it's a wonder of marketing.

However, once in a while Nature pulls a complete Mystery Spot on the unwary traveler right out of the blue.  One might be traveling and see a boulder perched on the end of a needle-like upthrust of rock, and wonder just how that boulder got there and why on earth doesn't it just rolll off!  Or one might pass by rocks in the strangest shapes, or come across a stone arch bridging two large rock outcroppings, perfectly framing a setting sun just as one drives up. 

Sometimes, these wonders take on humorous, sexual or even scatological overtones.  One can often see rocks that look like male genitalia from certain observational viewpoints.  Occasionally, rock formations can take on the form of female genitalia.  When driving with our friend Ann back from a camping trip in the Gila Wilderness, we went past a hill with a strange configuration.  Almost at the same time, the thought came into all of our heads - "look, it's Asshole Mountain!"  The cracks and crevices in the side of this particular hill all converged together and from the angle we saw it, truly looked like a human nether orifice.  I don't think that seeing such things in nature is the sign of a deviant - we are earthy and sexual beings that respond to certain stimuli and sometimes I think it is much harder to ignore the imagery than it is just to admit it's there, have a laugh and move on.

The places that draw this type of amazement out of me tend to be the ones that appear when I least expect it or have no idea what to expect.  I was in awe of the Grand Canyon when I visited, but given all the information on the Grand Canyon that I knew before ever going there, and all the images that I've seen of it, I expected it to be what it was.  And it was truly amazing.  But all the pre-hype robbed me, in a way, of the wonder that I could have felt had I not known.  I am envious of the people who came to the rim of the canyon and had no idea that something that enormous, that spectacular, existed.

So for me, my travel wonders have been in the out-of-the-way places of which I had little prior knowledge.  Big Bend National Park, Canyon de Chelly, New River Gorge, Sleeping Bear Dunes, Yosemite (before I went, I really did not know much about it!), the west coast of Canada, Alaska.  Even human made travel wonders qualify.  Chaco Canyon.  The temple Wat Pho in the midst of Bangkok with its giant reclining gold Buddha, the ruins of ancient Rome, Newgrange in Ireland.  On a depressing note, but also a wonder if only in testament to the worst of human nature and cruelty: Auschwitz, Buchenwald, Sachsenhausen.

This works for literature as well.  I have read a lot of literature.  How amazing it is when you read a piece of literature that affects you, turns you on your head, makes you amazed and gives you a similar sense of wonder.  What treat to be able to read something for the first time and feel the same rush that you might when you happen across a beautiful vista, or a natural wonder.  Lately, a number of novels have served as inspiration for popular movies.  A case in point are the very popular novels written by the Swedish novelist Stieg Larsson.  I saw all three movies - The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, The Girl Who Played with Fire, and The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest - and have never read the books.  Now that I have seen the movies, I have a sense that the books will not have the same effect on me as they have had on other people who read the novels first.  I will probably read them, but I have probably ruined the opportunity to really experience them as the novelist intended.

This puts me in a quandary for a trip I'm planning to make. My wife and I are spending just over two weeks in Turkey in May.  Turkey is of special interest to me because it lies at the crossroads of civilization.  The oldest human settlement that resembles a municipality may have been in Turkey.  Numerous empires sprung up there, and other empires were marched across it and disappeared.  Currently, the West's relations with the East, particularly with Muslim countries, are tempered by and may be aided by friendly relations with Turkey.  Turkey's role in the current Libyan conflict is a case in point.  So do I read to add to my knowledge in preparation for the trip?  Or do I go as an open book?  I don't want to go to Turkey without some background, but I also don't want to ruin my wonderment at seeing Hagia Sophia, or the ruins of Ephesus, or seeing Sufi whirling dervishes.

I envy LHM's experience at coming across something like Texas Canyon, which for a moment startles, amazes, and causes one to think about how the universe, nature and all that we don't understand creates such fantastic things that defy explanation.  I know I will have more of those moments, and look forward to them.  I just have to strike the right balance between how much I learn, and how much I am willing to let the universe teach and touch me.

Musical Interlude

I'm not sure why I'm picking Dan Fogelberg's Nether Lands for the musical interlude.  First of all, the song is not about the country in Europe.  In fact, it is a song about acceptance or denial of life.  His message, as Fogelberg put it, is about the:

"...two forks of existence, acceptance or denial. It comes down, that's the only choice we have when you think about it. Any other choice we have is contingent on the basic: either accept the life you're given or deny it and commit suicide. It's either one. You've got to make that decision every day."

Dan Fogelberg, as quoted on Rock Around the World, a website devoted to rock and roll radio shows and interviews from the 1970s

I think that when I heard this song for the first time, I was entranced - I was literally in wonder listening to this song.  I had heard some of Fogelberg's earlier work, and some of his later work, and I'd never heard anything like this from anyone.  When I thought of this song, and found this version on YouTube (there are two others), I thought its pictures of the ordinary world in its beauty along with the song's beautiful orchestration and Fogelberg's poetry fit this post also.  I hope you get the same sense of wonder listening to it that I did.

If you want to know more about Texas Canyon

Hub Pages: Texas Canyon
The Thing in Texas Canyon
Travel Through Texas Canyon with One Girl Trucking
Wikipedia: Texas Canyon

Next up:  Tucson, Arizona

Blue Highways: Dos Cabezas and Willcox, Arizona

Unfolding the Map

Click on Thumbnail for MapAfter an arduous journey over the Chiricahua Mountains, we pull into Dos Cabezas and Willcox with William Least Heat-Moon (LHM), and I ponder on the nature of odysseys.  Click on the thumbnail at right to see where Dos Cabezas and Willcox are located.

Book Quote

"Onion Saddle Road, after I was committed to it, narrowed to a single rutted lane affording no place to turn around....The compass swung from point to point, and within any five minutes it had touched each of the three hundred sixty degrees...

"....Finally, at eight thousand feet, I came to what must have been the summit...but the descent was no less rocky or steep.  And it went on and on.

"....I could only trust in the blue-highway maxim: 'I can't take any more' comes just before 'I don't give a damn.'  Let the caring snap, let it break all to hell.  Caring breaks before the man if he can only wait it out.

"Sure enough, the single lane became two, the dirt macadam, and Pinery Canyon led out to Arizona 186, crooked highway that dipped into arroyos rather than bridging them; but it was smooth beyond measure....As for Paradise, I never found it.

"The towns were Dos Cabezas, a clutch of houses under worn twin peaks like skulls, and Wilcox, clean and orderly."

Blue Highways: Part 4, Chapter 14

The oldest continually operating store in Arizona, located in Willcox. Photo by Dan Ouelette at city-data.com Click on photo to go to site.

Dos Cabezas and Wilcox, Arizona

In high school or college, you may have had to read The Odyssey.  This epic by Homer told the tale of Odysseus' journey from the Greek victory at Troy to his home on Ithaca.  It takes him ten years.  For three years, as he and his men sail, they experience adventure, peril, and last minute escapes.  Odysseus and his men encounter the Lotus Eaters, who drug two of his men into forgetting who they are.  His meeting with the Cyclops Polymephus, who Odysseus blinds with a stake, earns him the wrath of Polymephus' father Poseidon.  Odysseus is thus cursed to ten years of wandering.  He is given a bag of winds from Aeolus but his men open it thinking it's gold, and the escaping winds drive them back whence they came just as they were in sight of Ithaca.  He loses all of his ships to cannibals, and then encounters the witch goddess Circe, who turns his men to swine and tells Odysseus she will return them to human form in exchange for his love.  Escaping Circe after a year, they sail past the island of the Sirens, whose song will enchant men and cause their ships to crash on the rocks.  Because the men stop up their ears, and Odysseus ties himself to the mast, the ship makes it past.  Finally, as punishment for hunting the sacred cattle of the sun god, all of Odysseus' men drown in a shipwreck and Odysseus is thrown onto the nymph Calypso's island.  When he finally escapes after seven more years, he returns home to find his faithful wife Penelope beset by suitors.  In disguise, he wins a contest with bow and arrow, kills the suitors, and takes his rightful place at home.

I give you a blow by blow account, in synopsis, of the Odyssey because if you really think about it, we embark on an odyssey called life from the moment we draw first breath.  In between the time we leave our original state of nothingness and get cast naked into the world to live our life's odyssey, until the end when once again, we go back to our original state, we undertake many side odysseys.  These odysseys can involve physical travel, or they may involve journeys of emotion, spirituality, mentality, morality, or any other aspect of the human condition.

The point of an odyssey is not simply getting from the origin to the end.  Rather, the odyssey is the trials in between and how we handle them.  It involves the choices we make in dealing with difficult situations.  Otherwise, it's just a trip.  If LHM had simply traveled the United States and not had any type of difficulty or hardship, no situations where he had to question his decisions and make unsettling choices, then he really would not have had anything to write about.  However, his trip is full of small odyssey's, one of which is his travel over the Chiricahua Mountains.  As he goes up the mountain on a rocky, pitted road that seems suspended over the void, and which offers no relief going down, he questions himself, wishes he had stayed in bed, wonders whether he will hit a dead end, and finally decides not to care any more.  Of course, that is when the road smoothens and he sees signs of humanity again.  He never found Paradise as he has more journey to make, but he did test his own mettle and the hardiness of Ghost Dancing, and passed through.

I think that in any odyssey, one might reach the point where the end of the journey seems really far away.  I have been in those situations both in physical travel and emotional journeys.  I remember traveling with my wife and a friend to the Gila Wilderness in New Mexico a few years ago - a place not too far from the Chiricahuas - and we drove one day from our campsite over dirt roads to Mogollon.  We had a little car, an Infiniti, and we were sure we were going to puncture the oil pan on the rocky dirt roads.  My wife drove, and clutched the steering wheel with white knuckles.  When we finally reached Mogollon, we had literally been through a wringer worrying about whether we had made the right turn or if we were going to be lost in the Gila.

My life has also been filled with emotional journeys.  My dissertation was a journey that tested me, involved lots of obstacles, made me question myself and my abilities, asked me to take on difficult situations, face down potential debunkers, and ultimately gain my goal of a PhD.  Similarly, my relationships, whether good or difficult, are often journeys where I've made choices both brave and cowardly, avoided or fell into traps and entanglements, fought pitched battles, made wrong turns, encountered perils, resisted or fell for temptations, endured long bouts of captivity (to anger, sadness, depression, despair) and experienced moments of joy and victory.  After I've argued with a friend or loved one, it can feel like I have fought the Cyclops.  Sometimes I win, sometimes I lose.  There are always Sirens and Circe's to tempt and capture me if I am not careful.  My recent entanglement, which I spoke of generally in my last post, was a very difficult odyssey full of trials and temptations and ultimately, sadness and anger.

Add up all our odysseys, and they all combine into our life's journey.  Some of us seem to brave the perils, skirt the difficulties, and reach home in one piece.  Others of us bear many scars, emotional and physical, that are in themselves a road map of our lives' journeys.  Some of us get captured and held in captivity to dysfunction, despair and sorrow, while some of us meet those trials head on and prove ourselves to be heroes and heroines.  Regardless, as we journey on our odysseys, we encounter each other, walk along each other's paths, sometimes help each other and sometimes sabotage each other.  Without these experiences, our lives would be just a trip, a smooth movement from point A to B.  Ultimately, a smooth trip would make life boring and not allow us to learn about ourselves and our strengths and weaknesses.  We need trials and tests to become ourselves to the fullest.  When we recount our odysseys, at the end of the day or at the end of life, we can say that we've truly lived.

We may not find Paradise at the end of our journeys, but after a long and arduous path, a clutch of houses at a Dos Cabezas or a clean and orderly Willcox at the end of the road at least offer comfort and peace of mind, and a well-needed rest before our next odyssey.

Musical Interlude

If we are all making our own odysseys, it's easy to forget that there are those who are affected by our journeys, and making their own choices based on ours.  Sometimes all ends well, sometimes not.  I think of Penelope, waiting for ten years, not knowing if her husband was dead, but choosing to hold out against her suitors in the hope that he would return.  (Too bad he was giving it up to nymphs and sorceresses, but she either doesn't know that or lets it go)  Suzanne Vega, an amazing singer-songwriter, touches on the sometimes tragic aspects of mutual odysseys, when it is "not the man, but it's the marriage that was drowned."  The woman she sings of in Widow's Walk continues her journey after her faithfulness has been betrayed, but she has learned from the pain and waits for a better day.  Isn't that what we all hope for at the end of the journey?

If you want to know more about Dos Cabezas

Dos Cabezas is considered a ghost town.  Willcox, which LHM misspells, is not.  Here's what I have gathered for each of them.

Arizona Range News (newspaper)
Associated Content: Dos Cabezas
City of Willcox: About Willcox
Dos Cabezas - Arizona Ghost Town
Ghosttowngallery.com: Dos Cabezas
Wikipedia: Willcox

Next up: Texas Canyon, Arizona

Blue Highways: Somewhere on Cave Creek, Arizona

Unfolding the Map

Click on Thumbnail for MapSelf-esteem, self-sabotage...it's all here by Cave Creek where William Least Heat-Moon (LHM) stops to camp and meets the Boss - who has a wealth of self-criticism to direct at himself.  I will relate some of my own struggles lately that coincide with this very topic.  Don't worry.  I don't go into a litany of my complaints, and it's all hopeful and positive!  Click on the thumbnail of the map at right to see where our camp is located.

Book Quote

"...my point was that what you've done becomes the judge of what you're going to do - especially in other people's minds. When you're traveling, you are what you are right there and then. People don't have your past to hold against you. No yesterdays on the road.

"....I wanted to slap him around, wake him up. He had the capacity to see but not the guts; he mucked in the drivel of his life, afraid to go into the subterranean currents that dragged him about. A man concealed in his own life, scared to move, holding himself too close, petting himself too much."

Blue Highways: Part 4, Chapter 13

Cave Creek, in Cave Creek Canyon, Arizona. This is the creek along which William Least Heat-Moon camped in Blue Highways. Photo on "gatespassbear's" photo stream at Flickr. Click on photo to go to site.

Somewhere on Cave Creek, Arizona

I will warn you now, Littourati, that this post will be very personal.  Let me set up the context of the quotes above for you.  LHM, after finding what seems to be an impossible pass into the Chiricahua Mountains, and then passing through Portal which appeared to be completely empty, pulls in by Cave Creek to camp for the evening.  He is looking forward to quiet time and going over his notes.  He makes a campfire and begins to review his trip when he hears a noise.  It is a guy, who LHM nicknames "the Boss," camped nearby who is attracted to his campfire.  LHM offers the Boss some coffee and bourbon, and the Boss opens up about his life story full of "mistakes," mostly around his marital issues.  LHM gets annoyed and bored with the Boss' seemingly endless litany of complaints, and tries to close the conversation by yawning and saying he's tired, at which point the Boss gives a brief history of another person who camped in that spot while hiding from federal officials for offenses against American citizens.  Though this man was eventually captured and ended up in Oklahoma, the Boss claims that Goyathlay, better known as Geronimo, settled in his new life, took up gardening, became Christian, and wrote an autobiography.  If Geronimo, the lesson seems to say, can die successful and of old age after a life as a desperado, there is hope for us all.  One might take issue with whether Geronimo was successful as a prisoner and in exile from his people, but it's how the Boss expresses his lesson.

I say this will be personal because this entire set of passages seems to speak to where I am in my life right now.  The symbolism of Cave Creek is important because when I get down or emotionally fragile I go into what my wife calls "the Cave," a kind of mental and emotional shutdown that she can't penetrate.  Usually this comes about during a time when I feel like the Boss - that my life has slapped me around and that there is nothing I can do about it.  In a sense, I've temporarily given up fighting those forces on the outside that annoy or pain me, and on the inside that tell me that I have no business fighting.

I have been the Boss, endlessly mired in my own, negative inner conversation.  As I look back through the past year or so, everything that happened seemed to feed my own narrative about who and what I was, continuing my cycle of self-abuse.  It is a difficult spiral to break.  When I am in such a cycle, I seem to attract others who are mired in their own self-abusive cycles, but I don't recognize it.  About the time I was beginning to beat myself up for not being able to find a job in my field, for not having built an extensive circle of friends, and for not living up to my own expectations, I met a person who I thought might become a good friend.  I was drawn into this person's story of being a victim of others.  Little did I know that this person's interest in me was self-serving, the mask deceiving, and the heart uncaring.  I allowed myself to care about what happened to this person, got my ego wounded and I was emotionally hurt.  I also hurt people I care about during this period.  I now know that this is most likely a pattern in this person's life that has been repeated over and over in relationships, but when the illusion shattered it was like a smack in the face, and it fed my feelings of worthlessness, shame and guilt.  I enjoyed being someone worth this person's interest and I was hurt because I didn't understand that I was simply a tool to feed that person's need for attention, and nothing more.  I became mired in trying to fix the unfixable, against the advice of friends and people who care for me.  I wanted to at least try to put a decent closure to that relationship, but one cannot put closure on something that was illusionary only.  In the end, I became the Boss - constantly dwelling in my experience and reliving the pain over and over.   The experience wasn't all negative - I have been able to reflect on how I deny my true nature, and employ masks, smoke and mirrors by trying to be what I think people want from me rather than what I truly am.  What a huge letdown it must be to others when my masks drop and the charade is revealed!  If I present myself more truly, others will accept (or reject) me on my own merits and relationships that develop would be more authentic and much longer lasting, and ultimately, more meaningful.

But I have been like LHM also.  His trip was a way to leave his own past, mired in his breakup with his longtime companion, and get a fresh start and a fresh view of himself.  When we in better places in our lives, it is easy to want to literally "smack" people around for being mired in their problems.  LHM catches himself, commenting that he sounds like a "bioenergized group leader."  How many times have I felt sanctimonious enough to hand out advice to others about being positive and about being easy on themselves?  How many times have I advocated to people about getting rid of the physical and emotional trash in their lives and separating themselves from the things that cause them pain?  Yet, I cannot give myself the same advice - or at least I don't listen to it.  LHM shows that he is healing - he refuses to be drawn in by the Boss' attempts to gain pity and sympathy by relating all his problems.  I wish, in retrospect, that I might always have such clarity to see red flags and the strength to walk away from what I know is trouble.  I also hope that I may not be sanctimonious, but humble, because I know we all can be drawn into those spirals that cause us to be "mucked in the drivel" of our lives.

Littourati, this experiment in writing has been wonderful therapy for me.  It has been a creative outlet - the thing that brings me out of my cave and allows me to poke around in my "subterranean currents."  I hope you don't take offense when I say that I write these posts more for me than you.  I hope that occasionally someone finds something worth forwarding, tweeting, and liking or sharing on Facebook.  However, the act of putting my thoughts on these posts based on what I've read in these literary journeys, and putting into words my own feelings and experiences on various matters, helps me break cycles of self-destructive thoughts that have been ingrained since childhood.  I have done much that is admirable and good and have had wonderful experiences in life that rival the bad.  That realization has been the gift of my little idea and its expression in Littourati.

In the past week, I've started a class on creativity based on a system developed by John Dillon, who is leading the class, called the 20-20 Creativity Solution.  The premise is that everyone can be creative, but we don't allow ourselves.  Through creativity we can be happier people and live happier lives.  Dillon developed his formula through extensive familiarity with psychology and religious traditions, as well as his own history of creative work.  His practice involves 20 minutes in the morning, part of which consists of free-association writing, and 20 minutes in the evening where one reviews the day mentally in reverse.  One then chooses 3-5 things that happened for which one is grateful, and then a few things that one wishes had been different.  One gives thanks for the good things, and forgives oneself for the others.  The process is supposed to help keep the mind uncluttered with negativity and open it to the positives that then lead to creativity.

Self-forgiveness and being easy on oneself has been a common theme through the years that I have undergone therapy as a way to come to new understandings about myself, the difficulties I have faced in life, and the strength that I have had to draw on to overcome my obstacles.  So as I write this, I am grateful that I have this forum to be creative and reflective, and I am hopeful that some of you find something valuable in my musings.  In this case, I have no wishes for anything to be different except, maybe, to not give into my darker sides but instead accept myself as I am, and learn more of what I can be.

Musical Interlude

The Youngblood Brass Band was a happy discovery for me.  I love the brass band sound of New Orleans, and one day someone introduced me to Youngblood, which is not from New Orleans but has a good brass band sound.  This song, Something, really captures in musical form what I've written above.  I hope you like it.

If you want to know more about Cave Creek

There's not much, though it appears that the area is a real gathering place for Mexican birds which draw the birdwatching enthusiasts.  In terms of where William Least Heat-Moon camped, I have made my best guess on the Blue Highways Google Map and the Blue Highways Google Earth kml journey, based on the distance LHM says he traveled from Portal and that he forded the creek before pulling in to camp.

Road Scholar: Cave Creek Canyon Birding
usbackroads: Cave Creek

Next up:  Dos Cabezas and Wilcox, Arizona