There was a time, back in the day, when you could drive your car or truck (SUV’s weren’t invented yet), all the way up to the very end of Sabino Canyon down in Tucson. I went up to Reddington Pass one afternoon with a girl to whom I was pitching woo. We took a case of Miller’s, a bottle of Dom Perignon, an ounce of Thai Stick, and then decided to do some hiking up the river.
Oh yeah, and two hits of 4-way window pane acid.
We didn’t bother cutting it up.
I remember hiking up and down the rocks and trees for what seemed like hours when I realized it had been hours, and I had no clue whatsoever where we were. There was also the small matter of me completely forgetting who my date was.
After about thirty minutes, I started getting that warm, shiny glow as I started peaking. You couldn’t get the shit-eating grin off my face if you tried. I looked over to the girl, I think her name was Connie, and for the life of me, I did not know who the hell she was. I figured I had given her a ride up here, but after that…zero.
I had to think of something to have her tell me her name without letting her know I had no earthly idea what her name was.
I think the bigger giveaway was when I screamed like a little girl when I look over to her and her face started melting down her tank top.
I finally walked to the edge of the canyon and started shouting “Mark!” and then miming like I was straining to hear an echo.
Worked like a charm.
Connie it was.
Our cocky smiles had long since turned to panic stares into the distance in the hopes of seeing something even remotely recognizable.
We needed to find the one road that goes up there, and we decided to climb up the mountainside in the hopes of finding it. We started up the rocky slope and it soon would look like a scene out of Vertical Limit as we approached the Death Zone.
At least that’s what the author in me remembers.
We actually kept climbing as the slow Arizona sunset seeped in.
There was the road.
I was cocky again, acting like I knew all along where my truck was.
We never hooked up after that and I am sure the wacky drugs played a major role in that.
The lack of stewardship of this beautiful area forced them to commercialize and regulate the flow of visitors. Now there are trams and wagons carrying tourists up and back.
Still no word yet on my upcoming gig, so I actually might have to get off my ass and go get some gigs by expending actual effort.
I’ll keep you posted. Check it out: