One Traveler's Opinion: Arizona When It Sizzles
May 30th, 2001, 12:16 PM
#1
Guest
Posts: n/a
One Traveler's Opinion: Arizona When It Sizzles
Last April, my wife and I had the pleasure to spend a week in Arizona’s high desert country. We visited the Grand Canyon, Canyon de Chelly, the Painted Desert and other wonderful attractions of that beautiful part of the country. Last week, I found myself back in Arizona, this time in the southern part of the state; the so-called “low desert” of Phoenix and Tucson. Herewith, a report.
“It’s a dry heat.”
I don’t know how many times I heard that comment. I stopped counting at around twenty and that was my first evening. By the time the woman at the Avis check-in center said it on my flight out of Phoenix’s Sky Harbor Airport, I was convinced it was part of a cruel joke played by Arizonans on out-of-staters.
The reason it’s a cruel joke is because, when the temperature hits 114 degrees in late May, it doesn’t make one bit of difference whether the humidity is 5% or 95%. It’s unbearable. And last week in southern Arizona, it was 114 in Phoenix; “only” 103 in Tucson. I was in the state on business; the memory of that year-earlier vacation still fresh in my mind.
My flight landed in Phoenix at 5 p.m.; the blast of heat first hit me in the metal jetway. It was a sensation roughly akin, I suppose, to the one a lobster feels when it is first plunged into the cooking pot: something has changed and not for the better. A smiling gate agent saw my reaction and said, “It’s OK; it’s a dry heat.” I didn’t exactly feel relieved, but it gave me some sort of sense that I might adapt after a few hours.
Half an hour later two traveling companions and I were slogging our way through that city’s rush hour headed south for meetings the next morning in Tucson. (As an aside, for a city of a million people, Tucson has without a doubt the worst air service in the country and, to make matters worse, the Tucson airport is about as close as the Mexico border as it is to Arizona’s second largest city.) The announcer on the radio cheerfully intoned that we had tied the record for the day with a temperature of 106.
Temperatures over 100 are uncommon in May. In June, July, August and September, they’re rule, and at one meeting in Phoenix, a table full of Phoenicians waxed nostalgic about “the big one” about ten years ago when the temperature hit 136 degrees. But spring was apparently brief this year; a few weeks of daytime temperatures in the seventies and eighties before some ridge of high pressure began squatting over the state.
At the Westward Look resort in Tucson, the pool was filled with children, the first time I had seen people engaged in outdoor activities since arriving in the state. “It’s empty during the day,” the desk clerk told me. “Even though we cool the water.” I thought she was joking, but later I would learn that swimming pools in Arizona are frequently artificially chilled via special sprayers. In New England, we heat our pools in summer to make them bearable; in Arizona, they chill them down.
(part 1 of 2)
“It’s a dry heat.”
I don’t know how many times I heard that comment. I stopped counting at around twenty and that was my first evening. By the time the woman at the Avis check-in center said it on my flight out of Phoenix’s Sky Harbor Airport, I was convinced it was part of a cruel joke played by Arizonans on out-of-staters.
The reason it’s a cruel joke is because, when the temperature hits 114 degrees in late May, it doesn’t make one bit of difference whether the humidity is 5% or 95%. It’s unbearable. And last week in southern Arizona, it was 114 in Phoenix; “only” 103 in Tucson. I was in the state on business; the memory of that year-earlier vacation still fresh in my mind.
My flight landed in Phoenix at 5 p.m.; the blast of heat first hit me in the metal jetway. It was a sensation roughly akin, I suppose, to the one a lobster feels when it is first plunged into the cooking pot: something has changed and not for the better. A smiling gate agent saw my reaction and said, “It’s OK; it’s a dry heat.” I didn’t exactly feel relieved, but it gave me some sort of sense that I might adapt after a few hours.
Half an hour later two traveling companions and I were slogging our way through that city’s rush hour headed south for meetings the next morning in Tucson. (As an aside, for a city of a million people, Tucson has without a doubt the worst air service in the country and, to make matters worse, the Tucson airport is about as close as the Mexico border as it is to Arizona’s second largest city.) The announcer on the radio cheerfully intoned that we had tied the record for the day with a temperature of 106.
Temperatures over 100 are uncommon in May. In June, July, August and September, they’re rule, and at one meeting in Phoenix, a table full of Phoenicians waxed nostalgic about “the big one” about ten years ago when the temperature hit 136 degrees. But spring was apparently brief this year; a few weeks of daytime temperatures in the seventies and eighties before some ridge of high pressure began squatting over the state.
At the Westward Look resort in Tucson, the pool was filled with children, the first time I had seen people engaged in outdoor activities since arriving in the state. “It’s empty during the day,” the desk clerk told me. “Even though we cool the water.” I thought she was joking, but later I would learn that swimming pools in Arizona are frequently artificially chilled via special sprayers. In New England, we heat our pools in summer to make them bearable; in Arizona, they chill them down.
(part 1 of 2)
May 30th, 2001, 12:17 PM
#2
Guest
Posts: n/a
(part 2 of 2)
At twilight, the temperature was still well in the eighties, and I asked if it cooled down at night. A bartender at the Westward Look gave me a sad look. “It used to,” he said. “Back when I was a kid, the sun would go down and it would get downright nippy, even in July.” The bartender looked to be nudging up toward 40. “Then, Tucson got big and all of the pavement and buildings started soaking up the heat. This time of year, it can cool off a little before dawn. Come the middle of summer, there’s not difference. But it’s OK; it’s a dry heat.”
The temperature started every conversation at every meeting. In addition to the discussion of “the big one,” I heard of horror stories concerning power outages in the middle of summer (“everyone just cleared out of town and headed for higher elevations.”), and something called “pavement explosions” where the heat causes asphalt to erupt and buckle. Today, expressways in Phoenix are cured with a special, non-exploding kind of pavement. One native explained the concept of the “heat dome” over Arizona’s capital: the mass of streets and buildings has created a permanent heat sink that causes clouds and precipitation to bypass the metropolitan area. I asked what is being done to solve this problem. “Oh, people build farther out to get away from the heat dome.” I let that particular conversation drop.
When the temperature rises to 110, the streets empty out. Both in Tucson and Phoenix, I saw no one out on the streets after 7 a.m. and, in Phoenix’s brutal mid-day heat, even people hesitated when they walked between buildings in an office campus. Leaving one meeting, I paused in the lobby of an office building while girding myself for the dash to my car. A thirty-ish woman seemed ready to make the same trek. “Looking through the dark bronze glass of the building, the sidewalk beyond still looked like egg-frying territory. “Good thing it’s a dry heat,” I said to her. She turned and shot me a daggered look, then slowly shook her head as she said, “The human capacity for self deception knows no boundaries.”
Notes: The Westward Look, which dates to the early decades of the 20th century, is a wonderful place as a base of operations in Tucson. Its 240 adobe-style rooms are arranged in series of bungalows spread out over an 80-acre ranch; the hilltop property offers a breathtaking view of Tucson below it at night. There’s horseback riding through desert trails and the gardens around the bungalows are riots of color and texture. My room ($400 a night “in season”, $92 in late May) was quite large with a separate seating area, huge bathroom with double sinks done in glazed Mexican tiles, and decorated with native weavings. Sadly, the Westward Look is considered antiquated and so is losing business to the newer, glitzier “spa” resorts like The Lodge at Ventana.
At twilight, the temperature was still well in the eighties, and I asked if it cooled down at night. A bartender at the Westward Look gave me a sad look. “It used to,” he said. “Back when I was a kid, the sun would go down and it would get downright nippy, even in July.” The bartender looked to be nudging up toward 40. “Then, Tucson got big and all of the pavement and buildings started soaking up the heat. This time of year, it can cool off a little before dawn. Come the middle of summer, there’s not difference. But it’s OK; it’s a dry heat.”
The temperature started every conversation at every meeting. In addition to the discussion of “the big one,” I heard of horror stories concerning power outages in the middle of summer (“everyone just cleared out of town and headed for higher elevations.”), and something called “pavement explosions” where the heat causes asphalt to erupt and buckle. Today, expressways in Phoenix are cured with a special, non-exploding kind of pavement. One native explained the concept of the “heat dome” over Arizona’s capital: the mass of streets and buildings has created a permanent heat sink that causes clouds and precipitation to bypass the metropolitan area. I asked what is being done to solve this problem. “Oh, people build farther out to get away from the heat dome.” I let that particular conversation drop.
When the temperature rises to 110, the streets empty out. Both in Tucson and Phoenix, I saw no one out on the streets after 7 a.m. and, in Phoenix’s brutal mid-day heat, even people hesitated when they walked between buildings in an office campus. Leaving one meeting, I paused in the lobby of an office building while girding myself for the dash to my car. A thirty-ish woman seemed ready to make the same trek. “Looking through the dark bronze glass of the building, the sidewalk beyond still looked like egg-frying territory. “Good thing it’s a dry heat,” I said to her. She turned and shot me a daggered look, then slowly shook her head as she said, “The human capacity for self deception knows no boundaries.”
Notes: The Westward Look, which dates to the early decades of the 20th century, is a wonderful place as a base of operations in Tucson. Its 240 adobe-style rooms are arranged in series of bungalows spread out over an 80-acre ranch; the hilltop property offers a breathtaking view of Tucson below it at night. There’s horseback riding through desert trails and the gardens around the bungalows are riots of color and texture. My room ($400 a night “in season”, $92 in late May) was quite large with a separate seating area, huge bathroom with double sinks done in glazed Mexican tiles, and decorated with native weavings. Sadly, the Westward Look is considered antiquated and so is losing business to the newer, glitzier “spa” resorts like The Lodge at Ventana.
May 30th, 2001, 12:27 PM
#3
Guest
Posts: n/a
How nice to see you on Fodors..thought you were mad ...missed you, where have you been?...or am I just in a fog??? alias [email protected] can`t use your real name ......only the brave.....
May 30th, 2001, 12:35 PM
#4
Guest
Posts: n/a
Neal, thanks for the info and the laughs. The citizens in the central valley of CA also maintain the dry heat theory to make them feel better when it's 103 in May. I grew up at the coast in southern CA so when I moved to the valley and heard the dry heat claims my response was "the oven has dry heat too but you don't see me sticking my head in there!" The first shot of hot air when the door opens is truly shocking to the system, dry or not.
May 30th, 2001, 12:41 PM
#5
Guest
Posts: n/a
Neal,
I have lived in the Phoenix area since I was about 3. As kids we used to run around barefoot all summer, swim in ANY body of water we encountered (ditches, buckets, cattle troughs...), and play outside all day long.
Now, at nearly 40, I stay inside as much as possible from June - September. I announce to my family every August that we are moving to Oregon - start packing.
Then, sometime in mid-October, the glorious fall arrives. This is closely followed by the fabulous winter which is followed by the incredible (though sometimes short) spring.
Perhaps we are delusional, but many of us endure the 4-5 months of awful heat for the 7-8 months of really great weather.
See you in November
!
Audrey
I have lived in the Phoenix area since I was about 3. As kids we used to run around barefoot all summer, swim in ANY body of water we encountered (ditches, buckets, cattle troughs...), and play outside all day long.
Now, at nearly 40, I stay inside as much as possible from June - September. I announce to my family every August that we are moving to Oregon - start packing.
Then, sometime in mid-October, the glorious fall arrives. This is closely followed by the fabulous winter which is followed by the incredible (though sometimes short) spring.
Perhaps we are delusional, but many of us endure the 4-5 months of awful heat for the 7-8 months of really great weather.
See you in November
! Audrey
May 30th, 2001, 02:47 PM
#6
Guest
Posts: n/a
Neal, when will you learn to consult us natives before you come out here? You forgot to mention some of the upside to our heat: no mosquitoes, no Nooyawkahs in green plaid shorts (they come around Halloween), lotsa cold beer, cool and starry nights.
May 30th, 2001, 03:50 PM
#7
Guest
Posts: n/a
I just got a call last night from my cousin who lives in Scottsdale. They were inviting me out for a weekend - even offered to send my one of their unused ticket vouchers. Of course the first thing I heard when I complained about the heat was the "dry heat" statement. We laughed and both agreed that dry or wet heat at 115 degrees is just too darn hot for me to travel to. I told her I'd see her in October.
May 30th, 2001, 03:55 PM
#8
Guest
Posts: n/a
I was in phoenix last weekend and had a much more pleasant experience--of course i didn't go wandering around in the usn in the middle of the day---but with the lack of daylight savings time, it's quite light at 5 AM and very cool--for walks or jogging---in midday, I sat under a shaded patio and was quite cool, with a bit of a breeze, and read and sporadically went to the pool--and at night the sunsets were great--wonderful stars---some neighbors went to Sedona for an afternoon drive and enjoyed it--and the cactuses were still blooming very much
May 30th, 2001, 05:28 PM
#9
Guest
Posts: n/a
Hey Neil, I always enjoy reading your commentaries and opinions whether I agree with all of them or not.
A couple notes about PHX, though. As with all 'fish stories', the numbers become ever more exaggerated with time.
The official Maricopa County (PHX) all time high temp was 122 in June of 1990 (University of Arizona records log).
When I lived there it maxed out at 119 once. Yes, that's hot, and while you commented that at those temps the humidity makes no difference, one of the big problems in PHX is that the humidity has risen dramatically the past 20 years. Largely due to lawn and plant watering, so that transplanted midwesterners can feel more 'at home'. And 100 degrees with 5% humidity really is not that bad, even if you're a paleface from New England. But 100 with 40% humidity is markedly different.
Just last June I was visiting and went running (outdoors) for 45 minutes at noon with temps of 102-105. It's not THAT bad. But then again, it does help when you've had some time to acclimate to it.
The bartender's comments about the cement and heat retention are also correct. The average temperatures have been inching up steadily the past 20 years.
I'd gladly trade for your New England summers. But as Audrey said, those 'cool' months when it stays below 100 are pretty inviting.
A couple notes about PHX, though. As with all 'fish stories', the numbers become ever more exaggerated with time.
The official Maricopa County (PHX) all time high temp was 122 in June of 1990 (University of Arizona records log).
When I lived there it maxed out at 119 once. Yes, that's hot, and while you commented that at those temps the humidity makes no difference, one of the big problems in PHX is that the humidity has risen dramatically the past 20 years. Largely due to lawn and plant watering, so that transplanted midwesterners can feel more 'at home'. And 100 degrees with 5% humidity really is not that bad, even if you're a paleface from New England. But 100 with 40% humidity is markedly different.
Just last June I was visiting and went running (outdoors) for 45 minutes at noon with temps of 102-105. It's not THAT bad. But then again, it does help when you've had some time to acclimate to it.
The bartender's comments about the cement and heat retention are also correct. The average temperatures have been inching up steadily the past 20 years.
I'd gladly trade for your New England summers. But as Audrey said, those 'cool' months when it stays below 100 are pretty inviting.
May 31st, 2001, 12:40 AM
#10
Guest
Posts: n/a
Oh joy! The Great American Novelist returneth! When, oh when, can we expect the book and subsequent non-stop promotion on Fodors.com? Oh wait, that's what this is! The Reader's Digest version of greater things to come. Is Fodor's reaping any benefit from your freebie promos?
May 31st, 2001, 06:01 AM
#11
Guest
Posts: n/a
Yup, Phoenix summers sure are hot! I grew up there, and I'll never forget the time my shoes disappeared from the local pool. I had to walk home on pavement and sidewalks, sprinting from one small patch of shade or grass to the next. One of the most generous things my sister ever did was give me one of her shoes, so we both kind of hopped and lurched home mostly on one leg.
I worked for the Price Club in the summer. If management wanted to punish one of us, they assigned us to collect the carts in the parking lot. During one of my punishments, I saw the rear window of a car explode from the heat.
I'll be back in Phoenix this July to visit my folks. Happy day!
Thanks for bringing back the memories, Neal.
I worked for the Price Club in the summer. If management wanted to punish one of us, they assigned us to collect the carts in the parking lot. During one of my punishments, I saw the rear window of a car explode from the heat.
I'll be back in Phoenix this July to visit my folks. Happy day!
Thanks for bringing back the memories, Neal.
May 31st, 2001, 07:00 AM
#12
Guest
Posts: n/a
Neal, you hit it right on the head ... and in the process brought back dear memories of a May spent at the Tanque Verde ranch just south of Tuscon. Approaching that corral for the afternoon ride, oh no, deliver me!!! Thankfully it was only the merciful dry heat ... how horrible if it had been the least bit damp. And the ranch directors wondered why we crawled to the beer machine immediately after the morning trail ride. Ten o'clock, so what. We were only celebrating the dry heat! Ah, I can still remember standing by my horse, having a huge cowboy breakfast on the trail cooked over blazing mesquite, and only a 105 degrees. Pass the white baggies please ... and no I do not wish to mount my horse. What fun ... how we laughed ... mounting a horse, really. It must have been the dry heat. No wonder we hid out in the swimming pool at every opportunity ... and how I wished they'd cooled the damn thing. And to make matters worse, this place had no bar. We survived, but only because the heat was dry. Thanks for the memories. Ciao.
May 31st, 2001, 09:50 AM
#14
Guest
Posts: n/a
Thank you Neal; posts like yours will help keep more people from moving here and perhaps keep traffic from getting any worse. I haven't seen those exploding roadways you talk about over the last 30 years but I certainly recall all those potholes in upstate NY. In recent memory, the most miserable summer experience I have had was attending a wedding on Cape Cod in July at a very fancy resort on the water with no air conditioning. Arizona is no bargain in the summer, but it is the desert and is beautiful if you keep that in mind.
May 31st, 2001, 12:55 PM
#16
Guest
Posts: n/a
Oh great (etc.), I went back and checked to see if the Travel Talk intro still has the "share travel stories" language in it. Sure enough, it's still there. Must we all write in monosyllables to un-qualify as wannabe John McPhees? If so, here's my Arizona trip report: "Hot. Nice place, nice folks, but real hot. Folks talk 'bout heat lots." Are you satisfied now?
To those who thanked me for scaring away would-be residents, no dice. It's a beautiful part of the country with scenery to knock your socks off, especially around Tucson. Me? I'm headed back for more.
To those who thanked me for scaring away would-be residents, no dice. It's a beautiful part of the country with scenery to knock your socks off, especially around Tucson. Me? I'm headed back for more.
Jun 3rd, 2001, 07:23 AM
#17
Guest
Posts: n/a
Born in Phoenix, 60+ years ago and still here! Yes, it is hot and the older I get, the more I stay in during the afternoon, but humidity REALLY gets us down, we are just plain miserable, so we do think low humidity makes a huge difference, even if it is hot. We've been in DC in June and almost sick from the humidity and found Florida in January to be too uncomfortable to golf, so, we feel really lucky to be in Arizona, boiling hot or not....The people that move here now seem to go back to their original home in the summer and come back to AZ. in about November, so they are the lucky ones. Heat doesn't seem to be keeping anyone away, the resorts and hotels are packed and have fabulous rates.
Jun 3rd, 2001, 07:45 AM
#18
Guest
Posts: n/a
Karen, I'm curious....did you find FL too warm and humid in January for golf or too cold? Couldn't decide which you meant.
January is about perfect here usually (FL), but perhaps we've become somewhat accustomed to the humidity. Our daughter and s-i-l live in Phoenix and are very much outdoor people. They just head north and to the mountains for summer weekends. We have yet to try visiting them in the summer, feeling as if we'd be literally going from the frying pan into the fire!
gt;
January is about perfect here usually (FL), but perhaps we've become somewhat accustomed to the humidity. Our daughter and s-i-l live in Phoenix and are very much outdoor people. They just head north and to the mountains for summer weekends. We have yet to try visiting them in the summer, feeling as if we'd be literally going from the frying pan into the fire!
gt;
Jun 3rd, 2001, 11:14 AM
#19
Guest
Posts: n/a
Was in Tucson this year, end of March- incredible time to go; the desert was in full bloom. Also just returned from Phoenix and Sedona, end of May, was getting hot but not uncomfortable. I think the way to look at the desert heat is seeing the summers in the same light as northern winters; you're stuck inside for the most part. However, having grown up in Maine, I'll take living in the desert and staying in for 3 or 4 months over living there and going out for 3 or 4 months. Plus it's laughable when people tell me how "built up" the west has become...when they live in the nasty corridor of the east coast called Route 1, and endless show of lights from the airplane from DC north to Boston.
Jun 3rd, 2001, 07:36 PM
#20
Guest
Posts: n/a
This afternoon I again made the drive from Phoenix down to Tucson. What an amazing stretch of road.
It is anything but desert between the two cities; there's a huge ostrich farm at one point, for example (anyone who can shed light on why it's there is welcome to do so). The ostriches are so thick its like... well, nothing I've ever seen.
Near the state prison at Pacima (sp?), there are several square miles of trees; I make the assumption that they're nut trees. What makes it so unusual (apart from seeing groves of trees out in the purported desert), is that those trees closest to I-10 appeared to be standing in a lake of water. Again, I will be grateful to anyone who can offer a plausible explanation.
Finally, about 40 miles north of Tucson there is an "air park" with what looks like several hundred commercial airliners parked at random. Is this an airplane graveyard?
Many thanks for answers to the above.
It is anything but desert between the two cities; there's a huge ostrich farm at one point, for example (anyone who can shed light on why it's there is welcome to do so). The ostriches are so thick its like... well, nothing I've ever seen.
Near the state prison at Pacima (sp?), there are several square miles of trees; I make the assumption that they're nut trees. What makes it so unusual (apart from seeing groves of trees out in the purported desert), is that those trees closest to I-10 appeared to be standing in a lake of water. Again, I will be grateful to anyone who can offer a plausible explanation.
Finally, about 40 miles north of Tucson there is an "air park" with what looks like several hundred commercial airliners parked at random. Is this an airplane graveyard?
Many thanks for answers to the above.
