So this spaghetti was 10 for $10 … but then I realized that there’s 8 servings per box! That’s cheaper than my frozen dinners!
New stuff to me, old to most of you.

Anyway, 20 minutes later … wa-la!

I come across Piestewa (py-ess’-tuh-wah) Peak, and it’s 15 minutes from my apartment. The web site descibes one particular trail, called Summit Trail … “Piestewa Peak, formerly known as Squaw Peak, is part of the Phoenix Mountains Preserve. The elevation of Piestewa Peak is 2,608 feet; the total elevation gain for the Summit Trail is 1,190 feet. That might not sound high, but hikers of all levels can get a great workout climbing this mountain, and get a great view of the city when they get to the top. If you decide to hike the Summit Trail, though, you won’t be alone. According to the City of Phoenix. it is one of the most heavily used trails in the nation with 4,000 to 10,000 hikers per week.”

Then I see this photo.

Okaaaaay. It just looks high.

So I’m off. I’ve got my Ohio State shirt on, and a bottle of Gatorade in each hand. Stones are everywhere, sometimes acting as big steps. I’m cruising along, even stop to talk to a threesome that liked my shirt… one guy was a Buckeye fan.
Good times. Having some fun.

I’m starting to feel it in my chest now. My legs feel fine, but my lungs …. I knew I was out of shape, and this is just confirming those thoughts. Men, women, grandmas and even big fat people are walking past me as they come down from the top of the mountain. I stop to take a few swigs of Gatorade. They don’t know me. I could be “hiking dude” for all they know.

I’m out of breath. I move on.

I come to an area where it looks like a huge freaking tree once stood. Except it was ripped off right at the lower trunk. Well, it’s not a tree. They were rocks. Go figure.

I see a hiking sign that tells me I’ve gone .25 miles. My face is beet red, sweat is dripping everywhere, and I’m not even a quarter of the way up? That’s great.

I think I’m going to pass out. There’s still a stream of people coming down … and now folks are starting to walk past me as they climb their way up. A sign says “please stay on the trail.” No shit. Why would anyone try to get off this trail? I hear some people joke about some lady who got hurt near the top, and a helicopter had to get up there to help her. I smile as I walk past them … and then I start to worry.

This is getting less fun. The views are great, but I’m not caring as much. The top looks close. But it’s looked “close” for the past 20 minutes. I’m beginning to wonder if it’s actually moving farther away from me.

I’m starting to get religious. I’m also starting to take breaks every 40 feet or so. I’ve stopped trying to look cool as folks walk by – I just don’t care anymore. I have a seat on any rock that’s nearby. One Gatorade bottle is history. After about 10 minutes, I get up and move on.

For the third time, I’m thinking about turning around and heading back down. The sun is going down, and I logically tell myself that I don’t want to come down in the dark … and I can do this some other time. I pass a guy who’s coming down, and ask him “how much further to the top?” He tells me less than five minutes. I ask how long it’ll take to get down the mountain. He says he “runs” down, and it takes him about 15 minutes. He says “you’re so close to the top, if I were you, I’d do it.” Sure you would. This guy has no shirt on, ripping muscles, one of those bands on his biceps that’s holding some kind of gadget: iPod, steroid inducer – I don’t know. All I know is he doesn’t look like me.

I keep going. But I’m moving like a 95-year-old.

I stop, look up, and see the top. Five minutes? I’ve already been going ten, and I’m not there yet. The sun is almost down and I’m getting nervous. I think about going down again. telling myself “I made it” and that “this is close enough to the top.” I decide I’ll feel like an idiot if I get this close and don’t try to make it all the way.

Five minutes later …

Stud.

Well, I can’t get to the top without taking a photo. And here it is.

Now, I start to head down. The sun has set, and there’s a little bit of light. The wind is blowing sort of hard, but it feels great outside. As I’m heading down, I almost twist my ankle 3-4 times. It’s been 15 minutes, and I’m maybe 1/4 of the way down. I’ve never had to focus so hard on where I’m walking before. It’s dark now, and I’m trying to see where I’m stepping.

After another 15-20 minutes, I make it down.

That’s the clock on the car, 8:10pm. I’m heading home now, and my foot is on the accelorator, bouncing up and down furiously. I have absolutely no control of my foot – my body telling me that it’s bad to not exercise for seven straight years, and then climb Mt. Everest.

But I did it.

Saturday was an “all-girls” day, as I chauffered Emily and three friends to Peter Piper Pizza, ane then the new Lindsay Lohan movie, “Just My Luck.” I had to escort the girls to safety for about 10 minutes, as cops were storming the movie theater just as we were about to buy our tickets. There was even a police helicopter hovering over our heads. All eight cops came out a few minutes later with two people in cuffs. The girls were on edge … I think the movie was a let down after all that excitement.

Sunday, Emily and I drove through Sedona, took lots of photos (see below), and then went to the Ranch, where she got to check out the swimming pool. I’m beat. She heads back to Pittsburgh tomorrow … but it was a great weekend. I can’t wait for everyone to come down.

All photo captions below by Emily…

“Emily, the queen of Sedona!!”

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Whenever we saw this horse we just had to stop and get a picture.”

“OUCH, that must hurt!”

“Ok, my daddy really liked this elephant so he bought it and it was VERY hard to get it to fit into the Sonata. So we just told the people to mail it to us. All of you know that in Arizona there will be no grass in the front yard so my dad thought it would look great in our front yard, and it would be very attractive!!! Whenever any of you guys come to visit you will see a BIG RED ELEPHANT in our front yard.”

“Red Rock National Park.”

“I’m picking up red rock dirt for a souvenir.”

“The aftermath.”

“Me, at Starpointe.”

“My daddio relaxing.”

“The Big Dipper tipped over and ALL of the water came out!!”