Visit Ajo, Arizona in April

I wanted a day trip, and I chose Ajo. I really liked that place last year; who knew that a year later I would LOVE IT MORE?

 

Ajo still feels like my own Northern Exposure of the south.

And, a very happy two-year anni-road-ary to us.

A flair for understatement.

Our boondocking spot outside Ajo was hard to leave, and not just because we were stuck. But, temps are rising in the lower elevations, and rising in the higher elevations, too, so we can venture up to see my cousins who live in the tundra.

We left Darby Wells Road by noon, and engined north towards Sedona. In-between the two places are the Black Hills. So cute, hon; we'll be going over hills! And, so we did, although there are no pictures because my hands were clenched onto the steering wheel, and my behind was grasping the driver's seat. Annie asked me to let go, since she was driving.

The Forest Service land we're on is very pleasant, although it's more crowded than we're used to. The temperature is great, and the scenery is beautiful, of course.

This time we remembered to dial down our Sleep Number bed before cresting the top of the pass. Two cats did get dangerously overinflated, though.

These are not cats.

We found Ajo in the ground.

No, no, don't go! I'll stop, I promise.

Old mine pit

Wandered across this colorful building.

ISDA - International Sonoran Desert Alliance

Ajo mine pit.  It has an official name, like Official Mine Pit of Ajo.

The mine is no longer active, but apparently it is not closed, either. If they close it, they will have to begin reclamation. Thanks, Official Mine Pit Company of Ajo.

The door deserves a better picture.
And, you need to re-open this diner because of this great door.
Please offer vegan options.

The Gila woodpecker has been visiting regularly, and now Annie is doing damage surveillance on the roof. Five-sixths of the cats don't notice when she's up there, but it seems to alarm the kitten who has not yet learned the catly art of blasé.

Thank you, Lynne, for volunteering some great boondocking advice for our next destination. And, those pictures are stunning. I want to go to there.

Do you feel lucky, punk?

Seeking revenge for all the feet.

If that was too upsetting (sorry), here's some sacred iconography to soothe you.  From the Catholic Church:

What is the symbolism of the woman?

From the Ajo Memory Project:

Ajo Historical Museum

L to R: José Castillo, Annie

José found us and gave us some firsthand history of Ajo.  Born here in 1939, he started working for the mining operation in 1958.

If you're interested in Ajo history, you can find that online, told with more flair than I can manage.  The mine closed down in 1985, and the Indian and Mexican settlements associated with the mine were razed then.  That's why the former residents, and their descendants, found it necessary to create the Ajo Memory Project to collect stories, pictures, and ephemera from the time.

Local artists working on Memory Project mosaic in Ajo.  I think Lonewolf Wanderwolf (Mike Baker) is the creator of the murals we've been looking at, too.

José made sure we each had a geode to take with us.  How did he know??

He gave us some good advice with the geodes:  You go out in BLM land, you find a rock you like, you take it with you. You find money or what money can buy, you don't touch it. Because there are two people watching you - the person who put it there, and the person who wants it.

And, I'm sharing that good advice with you.  Have a lucky day.

Meep-meep?

Annie caught him circling us.  By "caught" I mean "photographed."  By "circling" I mean "menu-planning."

I wasn't even concerned until the mail truck dropped off the Acme Can Opener.

I've got a crush on you, Ajo.

I stood directly across the street to photograph this mural.

  
A woman came out and showed me where to stand for the best shot.

In case you didn't see this in the photo. I didn't, either.

This is in a big barn called ____ _____ Exports.

I was instantly in fourth grade...

...the time I spent fourth grade in the Sahara.  Excuse me, where are the glass coffee-table grapes?

She's got pigeolettes in there, too.

We browsed through a barn full of old stuff.  At the back were several shelves of 25¢ books.  Put your money in this basket, please.

Annie bought me lunch at Marcela's, where we dined on PBJs and french fries al fresco.  The fries were al dente, and the sandwich al pacino.  Cool breeze, bougainvilleas in bloom, iced tea;  it was a good time.

A shop owner told us Ajo is "Southern Exposure."  I've always said I wanted a town like "Cicely, AK."  Coincidence?  Probably!

We found this saguaro on our hike yesterday.
"Saguaro! Why are you in the refrigerator?"
"Isn't this a Crestinghouse?  Well, I'm cresting!"

Gratuitous Cactus Shot

I still have those knees.

1967, southern Ohio

I didn't grow up celebrating Easter, but my mom did like to buy me Spring dresses.  I liked to get Spring dresses.

  

Throughout my adult years, Spring has meant my emotional resurrection.  The winter is no time to think about growth, or building, or easy living.  The winter is the time to hunker down, keep track of your gloves, and keep looking down at your boots. Can you see them?  That's good - you're still moving.

I'm not sure what to do with the profane cycle of my rebirth this year.  There was no hunkering down, and no fallow field of winter to reseed.  What that means is I have been happy all winter.  Not every second, because that's just sick and wrong. But, a lot.  

I woke up at dawn, and banged around outside while watching the sunrise.  If there's a more spectacular display of desert anywhere, I want to see it.  I sat still and heard the desert yawn and stretch.  I wandered around, got cactus spines in my leg and screamed three times because I thought it was a snake.  GOOD MORNING!  Annie is disgruntled.  Sue hasn't come out of the Guppy yet, and may actually be too terrified to emerge.  

When I manage to sit still and be exactly where I am, that is when I feel reverence.  Not worshipfulness, but awe.   Annie is rolling her eyes.  "Feelings.  Either you feel like having breakfast, or you don't."

Every time we land somewhere new I say "This is my favorite place!"  And, I mean it.  This time, I REALLY mean it.