The view from the resort

Having breakfasted at the Hassayampa last week, why not up the hill to the Prescott Resort/Casino, for those great windows overlooking our fair city. So we did just that this morning. Cheapskate tip: I had a classic Continental breakfast of croissant, juice and coffee, just $3.75. Plus another opportunity for panoramic views of Prescott and its mountain vicinity.

Here's an overview of the new SRs 69/89 interchange that you don't get when you're down there hugging the ground. As one who walks (if it's not too strenuous), I'm happy to see nice wide paved sidewalks to the north and the south of the highway spaghetti.

Looking south by southwest across town to Mt. Francis. How did I know? Actually, I made an educated guess based upon seeing communication towers in the picture enlarged. We were suffering smoke from the Woodchute fire and the monsoon moisture streaming into the area; hence the soft, pale colors in today's pictures.

A more southerly view (above) that includes the Peridot as a long roof line at the right. Below, the old Ft. Whipple officer's houses on the grounds of the VA Hospital, taken last December when the dotter and I visited the gingerbread exhibit at the hotel. Today, the grounds below were verdant.

New houses cheek-by-jowl encroach the hillsides looking from the resort parking lot toward Prescott Valley.

I believe the major mountains here are Two Rock and Little Granite; in the enlargement of the picture a highway was visible across the foot of the mountain to the left, possibly Iron Springs Road as it heads toward Skull Valley.

Glassford Hill from the parking lot and a very wispy Woodchute.

A fine angle on a moody, shadowed Granite Mountain, showing the climbers' favorite cliff at the far left, and a different way to see Thumb Butte (below).

The view from Coco's

No doubt my breakfast companions wondered what I was up to this morning. We were at Coco's and I had an enticing view to the west, so I would periodically pop up to take a picture or two.

'Twas a good opportunity to examine the twin scars running down from the hilltop that houses the Prescott Resort/Casino. I've long been curious: were these trails already present when the structure was built in the 80s -- or are they more recent? Who (or what) made them? Perhaps javelina (or, more likely, quads)? I do notice that nothing appears to have started growing, which suggests that the paths are still in use. Of course, scars like that can last for centuries in the arid West.

My other view was of the cut into the hillside made where the shopping center was built, when -- the late 80s, early 90s? It's a steep cut, primarily into granite -- yet a surprising number of plants have taken root. Nonetheless, the contrast between the hilltop and the cut is quite telling.

The light green to the left is a deciduous tree, likely cottonwood, rooted at the bottom of the cut. The seams in the granite caught my eyes, as did the dead tree (below).

Here the granite does not display any seams. At the top of this picture and below, a big layer of granitic soil between the rock and the hilltop. It looks as though a pathway was cut just below the very top. At the lower left below, a cliff rose is still in bloom, but the Apache plume (upper right) is now in full furl.

Plus a note re: Coco's. Very good, reasonably priced breakfasts -- and a applause-worthy refill policy. Not just bottomless coffee or tea, but ditto for OJ or milk. (FYI: I had boysenberry pie.)

A Plethora of Links: So how does the current economic situation compare to the GD (Great Depression)? A cool idea for a new (to me) blog summarizes daily news from the papers in 1930. Cool Clear Water is sojourning in Mexico; almost every day she posts gorgeous pictures from San Miguel. Ron walks Ft. Bragg, California, and he had a very bright idea that I will try: photograph all the cats that he sees. Speaking of animals: here's an interesting angle on pet rescue -- Operation Roger, a collection of long-haul semi drivers that volunteer room in their cabs to move rescued critters from one point to another. Were you watching that mysterious object in the sky a couple of weeks ago: GeekMom has the full story in her Courier blog. In closing, Frogtown has a bitter-sweet take on the closing of a primary school.

Another Day, Another Hillside

"Hey, hon," says the Phoenician to his wife, "it's too hot down here. Let's go up to the mountains to cool off." "Good idea," says the wife. "We can get away from Sprawlsville. It's a lot prettier up in Prescott."

So they make the big mistake of heading up I-17. To be greeted with Ranch this, Antelope that, Quail the other. Everywhere, new houses. Bulldozers. Denuded hillsides. Prescott's own contribution to this scene of destruction: one more ridge (above) getting the treatment.

The warning sign comes when the water tank is first installed. Keeps the dust down. EPA, you know.

Actually, the shock of one more hill being gouged out in the name of big box retailing is worse when you head east from Prescott.

Home improvement, yes. Hometown improvement, questionable. And how many $mil is Lowe's getting in subsidies from the same city fathers who couldn't bring themselves to buy the Dalke property to save it as open space?

Son-in-law noted that the contractor's name can be read, "A mes(s)."

Here is the hole in all its glory. There isn't even a basalt layer or two to hold the ugly cut together -- it looks like the dirt is sliding down as fast as those machines scoop it out.

And to think that one might have bought a small retirement home over on that hillside. My husband had the right idea; he almost always drove up SR89 -- the White Spar Road -- into Prescott. The mountain curves scare many flatlanders, but you arrive in Prescott through the national forest, without a single reminder that there are serious people out there trying to turn our town into one more extension of the California that other people are running away from.

Hilltop Hide-Aways Hide Interesting Stuff

I'm fascinated by local hilltops. As you can imagine, hillsides, hilltops and ridge tops with, as the real estate salespeople call them, "forever views" command top dollar. Each year, new houses built on hillsides in my neighborhood are pricier and pricier.

But there's an interesting fact about hilltops hereabouts: the streets dead end. And property at these street ends appears to have been sold long before today's upscale market took off.

Probably because it was cheaper once upon a time. Hilltops were further from the water, the sewer and the other civilized amenities. Great places, it turns out, to gather up, store and hide Big Outdoor Collectibles, like beat-up muscle cars or heavy, rusty machinery (above.) After all, folks visiting the expensive people down the street aren't going to drive up to the very top just to sniff at such down-market activities.

This rusty mailbox, lying on its side, is at the entrance to one lovely property that abuts another very exclusive built-up site. What did I see here?

Well, there was the old tractor. Looks pretty good from a distance, but hardly a Beemer, Mercedes or Hummer.

But get closer and it's obviously a collectible that hasn't seen loving treatment as yet.

Peak around the corner a little further -- and talk about your "forever views!" What a place to hide your collection. I'd be happy to pitch a tent there any time.

PS: A charming local lady who sits with my mother at meals gave me further background on some of these not-so-upscale spots in old, otherwise exclusive established neighborhoods. It seems that for many, many years, the city fathers, in time-honored western tradition, eschewed zoning ordinances. In short, it was "anything goes." Times have changed, but old-timers are protected by grandfather clauses... and I, for one, don't mind the occasional spot of non-conformity.