Scottsdale, Az

The yellow glow of sunrise silhouettes the surrounding mountains as we pull off the road at the hot-air-balloon launch site. Saguaro cacti punctuate the desert floor like silent barbs of lighting. Creosote bushes stretch into the distance toward the advancing flash flood of houses. The guttural hut-hut-hut of a cactus wren announces the impending dawn. As the balloonists discuss wind conditions, I wander over and buy a cup of coffee from a woman selling breakfast snacks from the back of her red pickup. In the dim light, the thought of floating high above the desert floor seems like a pre-dawn dream.

Several men release black party balloons. They drift lazily upward, dancing in the currents and indicating a favorable wind direction. Soon the roar of generator-powered fans pumping air into the throats of the balloons drowns out the morning bird serenade.

The balloons began to swell and come alive like languid caterpillars struggling to metamorphose into colorful creatures of the air. As the sun crests the distant mountains, we climb into the wicker basket and hold on with unnecessary anxiety as Kevin, our pilot, fires the propane burners.

We rise slowly at first, like a dream flying, then more rapidly as the burners heat the chilly desert air. Soon the bushes became dots and the Valley of the Sun stretches out below us from horizon to mountainous horizon. The distant buildings of downtown Phoenix glimmer in the sun's rays. Housing developments creep up the hillsides like the waters of an impounded lake. Golf courses stretch across the desert floor like wrinkled green ribbons. Behind us, eighteen colorful balloons float upward to join the airborne armada.

Dusty Suburb to Sophisticated City
Years ago, before I owned an air-conditioned car, I almost perished in a July rush-hour traffic jam in metro-Phoenix. A dollar cup of ice water and a wet bandanna resuscitated me until I could escape the blazing pavement for the more moderate countryside of cacti and yucca. In those days, I pitied the people forced to live in such an oppressive climate.

Then I discovered the magic of a desert sky so blue you can almost swim in it, air so invigorating you want to bottle it, and views so expansive that your mind stretches to fill the void.

Apparently, I wasn't alone in my fascination. In 1950, Scottsdale was a dusty suburb of two thousand hardy residents who kept the city finances in a cigar box at the fire station. Five decades later, one hundred and forty five thousand migrants to the desert have transformed the citrus orchards, irrigated fields and arid desertscape into a hubbub of tourism, recreation and art.

The three hundred days of sunshine a year offer plenty of opportunities for golfing, boating, ballooning, hiking or dining. Restaurants offer al fresco seating. Concerts play in outdoor theaters. People flock to the surrounding desert and mountains. In a recent poll, residents voted Papago Park as their favorite attraction. The park features the Zoo and Desert Botanical Gardens with more than four thousand species of cacti and plants. Hiking Camelback Mountain and the other mountain parks in the Valley also scored in the "Top 10."

This is not exactly the parched image of the desert of legend and lore or even John Wayne's rugged cowboy version. Instead, like an alchemist, modern residents combine the simple elements of sun, sand and mountains and create a lifestyle that celebrates the outdoors year around.

For a one hundred ten-page destination guide to Scottsdale, contact:
Scottsdale Chamber of Commerce
7343 Scottsdale Mall
Scottsdale, Arizona 85251-4498
1-800-877-1117

Scottsdale Hotels/Motels

There are many hotels and motels in Scottsdale with something for every taste and price range. For more information and a complete list.
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