Winter Arizona Style

Being a northerner when I hear the word “winter” I think of bone chilling cold. Mountains of snow and streets so glazed with ice that if you do not have studs in your vehicle tires, and on your shoes you might want stay home.

The Ever Receding Face of Columbia Glacier Prince William Sound Alaska

Even here in Arizona when someone says it’s winter I cringe. If I’m inside where it’s usually cool because of refrigerated air, I immediately look out the nearest window to make sure my motorcycle is not covered in snow. If I’m outside I usually just think that the temperature will have to drop quite a bit before it snows, and I will have plenty of time to get my bike off the road.

Properly Armed Arizona Penguin

Winter in Arizona I have learned means the weather is quite pleasant, and without the triple digit heat of summer.  It is very nice for doing things outdoors, like sightseeing on motorcycles.

 

Casa Grande Ruins National Park

We spent two days in Catalina. One exploring Biosphere II and another at Saguaro National Park

Riding out to Saguaro we passed by Davis Monthan Air Force Base, and the acres and acres they have of mothballed airplanes.

War sustains our economy, the obsolete machines of the greatest military industrial nation ever, rest peacefully here in the Sonora Desert. Looking at all of our tax dollars parked here in the desert makes me think of earlier in this trip  when our ship stopped in Costa Rica, a nation without a military, that works towards sustaining the environment. Yes this desert would look better with its indigenous plants instead of all this junk.

Sonora Desert Native Plants Look But Do Not Touch

We move on up the road and hook up with our pals in Sun City. Living full time in this desert retirement city has turned our pals into serious card players. Into the wee hours of the morning we play a game they call hand and foot. The stakes were high but I managed to keep both of my hands and feet. Others have not been so lucky…

The Deal Goes Down

Elsewhere in Sun City People drive around in golf carts. Stopped at a traffic light the other day I pulled alongside a cart and asked the fellow driving what kind of mileage he got. He really did not know but said he only fills the thing up aboot every three months. I asked him how much gas his carts tank held and he thought aboot three gallons. The people in the air conditioned cars with the rolled up tinted windows appeared un moved by our environment saving  mileage revelation, and  I didn’t tap on their windows, for fear of being shot,  to tell them my bike has been averaging  43 miles per gallon of gas.

 

Fill Her Up With Ethyl Please