When hotel rooms are in short supply, bring the room with you. Five suggested RV adventures for heat-weary Phoenicians looking for a remote late-summer escape.
Chiricahua National Monument.
Down Tucson-way, about an hour east of the Old Pueblo, lies one of Arizona’s great camping destinations – a high-desert range festooned with vertical rock formations, just minutes from Willcox wine country. And since hotels and guesthouses are scarce, RV camping is ideal. The campground is a logical home base, but be forewarned: maximum motorhome length is 29 feet. 520-824-3560, nps.gov
Est. drive time: 3 hours, 15 minutes
“Everybody’s Hometown” has grown into an epic eating and drinking destination.
Prescott – or “Presskit,” as some say – is widely beloved as a fun, visitable vestige of old Arizona. Formerly the state’s territorial capital, it was where Doc Holliday and Wyatt Earp boozed it up when they visited Yavapai County, in the downtown cluster of bars and saloons now known as Whiskey Row. A century later, one-time resident Barry Goldwater launched his 1964 presidential campaign in Prescott, delivering speeches from Courthouse Plaza, a green and shady park frequently filled with festivities and a quaint yesteryear feel bolstered by the statues of historical figures astride horses in the park, and the classic cars frequently parked around the square.
Reset your overheated body and mind with an escape to Tucson’s Santa Catalina Mountains.
The mountains are calling. Cooler climes beckon from up north in Flagstaff, Prescott and Sedona, but a siren song also emanates from our sister metropolis to the south. Tucson’s Santa Catalina Mountains and their rolling foothills provide ample opportunity for you to hit “reset” – on your sun-beaten spirit, your heat-addled mind and, perhaps most importantly, your overtaxed sweat glands.
Eat, drink and play like a native in the rehabilitated heart of Nevada’s most notorious city.
When hacking through the human jungle that is the Las Vegas Strip, one encounters the expected nightlife wildlife: Gamblers, gam-flashing girls, and wannabe wise guys, oh my!
Go for the Pebble Beach Food & Wine festival. Stay for everything else.
The dignified, well-spoken culinary professionals addressing us from the stage appear ready to stab each other to death with their lemongrass lamb shanks. Such is the level of passion – and, perhaps, self-importance – at the Pebble Beach Food & Wine festival.
In my former life as a childless spendthrift, I had a pretty messy festival habit. Rock festivals, food festivals, craft beer festivals, counterculture art confabs in the Nevada desert – I did them all, from California to North Carolina. And on a reporter's salary, no less. Thank you, Chase Visa.
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