Arizona

We left Zion National Park Thursday for a seven hour drive to Phoenix that would leave us with stiff legs and sore calves. Utah's desertscape gave way to one of the most beautiful four hours of driving I have ever seen--Fredonia to Marble Canyon, northern Arizona. The road climbs about five thousand feet from barren beige desert to the thick ponderosa pines of the Kaibab National Forest. Occasional vistas reveal what seems to be hundreds of miles of undisturbed pine. Only occasionally are there bald patches from fire, making it look like the Kaibab underwent chemo and is recovering.

The thick pines provide a stark contrast to the red sandstone cliffs on the other side of the mountain. What took nearly 30 miles to climb takes only 4 or 5 to descend to a red desert landscape. The pines of Kaibab and sandstone cliffs form three walls around a basin 20 miles wide and 100 miles long or so. Presumably the southern horizon disappears into the north rim of the Grand Canyon. Towns dotting the perimeter of the basin capture one's imagination--Cliff Dwellers, Vermillion Cliffs, Marble Canyon, Gap. And the show culminates with the canyon. Amidst the red sandstone Vermillion Cliffs that rise 1,000 feet or more above, sits the the Navajo Bridge over Marble Canyon. 494 feet down is the beautiful blue green water of the Colorado River. The cliffs go down and up! Several older Navajo women occupy small stalls on the southeast side of the bridge seeking to sell jewelry and white clay figurines speckled with black horse hair to the tourists that route 89A brings, most of whom are en route elsewhere.

As we continue South on route 89, the red landscape turns beige again, then black briefly, then green as the mountains and forests of Flagstaff approach. It occurs to me that Flagstaff would be an interesting place to live. I had dog-eared it in my mind maybe a decade ago after my college roommates, Derek and Allen, spent a New Year's somewhere around there. There's a black and white photo that is little more than a silhouette of them on a cliff side on that page in my mind. Unfortunately, we were en route to Phoenix. All I got of Flagstaff was a cool breeze, the smoke of a forest fire, $3.69 a gallon gas and enough mountains and cliffs for my imagination to explore for weeks and months to come. Enough to keep the Northern Arizon page dog-eared a while longer. More mountains and forests silhoutted by the setting sun decorated our drive on I-17 south to Phoenix. Other places that capture my imagination -- Prescott, Sedona (energy vortex!?) -- would have to wait for another trip, much the same as hiking the Zion Narrows back in Utah.

We pulled into Phoenix earlier than expected, where Annette's friend Jason Bowers greeted us warmly in the parking garage of his apartment complex on Van Buren in downtown Phoenix. We talked of our travels and aspirations and washed off three days of backcountry Zion dirt before hearding out for food and drink. Jason quickly excused Phoenix from our list of potential places to live, expressing his disappointment with the city that has now been his home for five months. Long island iced tea was the only drink I could find appetizing and affordable on the menu. Annette and Jason spent dinner reminiscing about their shared experiences bartending at The Premiere in Memphis five or more years ago. We will save the stories for another time and format. Suffice it to say they are tales of Memphis' best.

While they talked, I ate and drank until the long islands set my head aspin. We moved on to the Rose and Crown pub where I switched to Guinness and the conversation moved to how to live a life social change and happiness and fulfillment. I espoused my long island iced opinions, got some amens and arguments. The details of the conversation are blurred, but my opinion is still clear, as it was before the conversation. I look forward to conversations and experiences that leave me with a different opinion than the one I started with. Travel should help me loosen my grip on my opinions. But to espouse it again, my opinion on the subject of living a fulfilling life of contribution goes something like this. Life is about making a unique and creative contribution in the world while maximizing one's own happiness and fulfillment. While the U.S. may have one of the most well-developed non-profit sectors in the world, Annette and I are interested in being in it in a different way, one that doesn't put non-profit leaders on a constant hamster wheel to secure more funding and keep funders happy. Funders often don't understand or appreciate the challenges of operating a successful and sustainable non-profit organization that really makes an impact. The ticket seems to be independent wealth built through an avenue that contributes to society and brings happiness. This journey is in part about Annette and I identifying our next expression of that life.