November 14 - 17, 2025
We made the drive to Phoenix. Again. Well—basically Phoenix. A suburb called Queen Creek, where we met George’s law school friend for lunch. We had a great time catching up and marveling at how much has changed since the days when life was lighter, freer, and didn’t involve adult children.
After lunch we headed to Tucson, where we’ll stay until we fly home for Thanksgiving. My parents served an 18-month senior mission here, so it’s fun to run around their old stomping grounds. We found some BLM land southwest of town to camp on. It has a very “semi-homeless” vibe—huge expensive rigs parked next to ancient campers and cars surrounded by piles of belongings that look like they’ve been there for years. The 14-day minimum is apparently not being enforced. We’re slightly concerned about leaving our trailer unattended during the day, but adventure requires risk, right?
The next morning we looked up a bike ride and discovered a paved path that loops the entire city. Fifty-seven miles. Naturally, we picked that one. It wore me out completely—my legs launched a formal complaint that evening. But we have to start building mileage because a college friend talked us into a semi-supported bike ride in central Florida this March: 310 miles over six days. I refuse to end up in the SAG wagon. Pride is a powerful motivator.
That night we used our $5 T-Mobile Tuesday movie tickets to see Now You See Me. Since the tickets were only $5, we splurged on popcorn and a drink.
Sometime in the middle of the night a lunatic tore around the camping area on a motorcycle without a muffler. There are definitely drawbacks to free camping, and one of them is that apparently some people prefer to recreate “Mad Max” at 3 a.m.
On Sunday, we surprised my nephew by showing up at the church where he’s serving his mission. It was a Spanish ward, so we used live Google Translate to follow along. My poor nephew had just been transferred from an English-speaking mission two weeks earlier, and I’m pretty sure he understood maybe two and a half words the entire meeting. He didn't have the luxury of Google Translate, but two weeks is simply not enough time to learn a language—but he was a good sport about it.
On our last day in Tucson before going home for Thanksgiving, we attempted to work at a library. The first “library” wasn’t really a library at all—it was inside a very cool retirement community where everyone drove golf carts, took dance classes, played pickleball, swam, and even had their own radio station. A great place to live, not a great place to work. Their “library” was one large room of books on the honor system—no desks, no Wi-Fi, no librarian. So we relocated.
On the way to Library Attempt #2, we stopped at the historic San Xavier del Bac Mission. Another delightful distraction. At this point, staying focused is very challenging.
We did eventually make it to a real library and managed to accomplish something. And we made it official: we’re spending Christmas in St. Louis with Maddy, and Lucy will meet us there.
Every story has a soundtrack. Since George and I have been together almost every second of every day for several months now, this song seemed appropriate (minus the part about getting drunk together):
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