I didn’t know much about Arizona beyond what I had seen and heard in film. A desert…that attracts strange people, spirit walkers and alien hunters and the like. I knew there was the Grand Canyon too, but embarrassingly after associating it with a 90’s Hoveround commercial. I also thought there would be good Mexican food too. More than that, however, I thought there would be stars, or rather skies dark enough to see them. Stars in mind, I hastily booked a ticket, grabbed a room and planned to get away.

When I arrived in Phoenix, I could see foothills scattered about the city in all directions. It’s the visual I was craving, recalling a touch of my time in Las Vegas a year back. The little planning I did do caused me to book a room in Flagstaff, a verdant mountain town located about 3 hours north of Phoenix that’s famous for the Lowell Observatory, abundant opportunity for outdoor activity, and proximity from the Grand Canyon. Unprompted, a number of people recommended that I stay in Flagstaff as a way to access the Grand Canyon as well as Arizona’s other parks and landmarks, which was first on my itinerary.