In the early 1990s, when I worked at MAD Magazine, there
were days when I felt I simply had to get out of the office and do something
different for 30 minutes to clear my head. I would imagine that people of all
professions feel this way at times, whether they be editors, accountants or
demonologists. Fortunately for me, the MAD offices, located at the time on
Madison Avenue and 52nd Street in the heart of Manhattan, were
within easy walking distance of St. Patrick’s Cathedral, the Museum of Modern
Art and Central Park, so I had lots of options of where to go when I needed a
mental break.
These days, working at an office on Camelback Road and 32nd Street in Phoenix, my easy walking distance options are limited to a strip mall and another strip mall. True, one of the strip malls contains a gelato shop, which is a nice feature, but if I treat myself to that in the middle of the day, there is an excellent chance I would fall asleep at my desk by mid-afternoon.
Sometimes, to clear my head, I simply walk out onto one of the balconies attached to our office suite and gaze at the impressive nearby mountains. The desert mountains, awash with cactus, are a majestic sight. At times they seem so close I can practically reach out and touch them. Why then, it took me three-and-a-half years of working at this location to realize it would be less than a three minute drive to immerse myself in the same mountains I’d been gazing at, I have no idea; but today this lightbulb finally went off, and I took the plunge.
The decision to drive into the mountains at 12:30 pm on a Friday really came out of nowhere. One minute I had gotten up after eating my lunch to stretch my legs and the next, I found myself driving north on 32nd Street toward the mountains I often spy from the balcony.
I had no specific plan other than—drive into them thar hills! I took a left on Lincoln Drive and soon saw the sign for Piestewa Peak. I took a right at the sign and started up the steep, bumpy road. I wasn’t really sure what I was doing, other than soaking in the incredible view. When I saw a sign that read “Caution – Active Bee Area,” I considered turning around, because I much prefer my bees inactive, but I decided to suck it up and keep driving.
Soon I came across a parking lot with a sign that said “Summit,” so I turned in and parked. There were about a dozen cars in the lot, but no people around. Presumably they were off somewhere hiking or fending off active bees. I walked to the trailhead and looked up. The peak looked impossibly high. I had hiked to the top once about 20 years earlier when I had much younger legs and was in much better shape. Now I was pushing 50, it was 100-degrees and I hadn’t thought to bring water, given the spontaneous decision to come there in the first place. As if to drive home the situation, I glanced over at the trailhead signage and saw this:
These days, working at an office on Camelback Road and 32nd Street in Phoenix, my easy walking distance options are limited to a strip mall and another strip mall. True, one of the strip malls contains a gelato shop, which is a nice feature, but if I treat myself to that in the middle of the day, there is an excellent chance I would fall asleep at my desk by mid-afternoon.
Sometimes, to clear my head, I simply walk out onto one of the balconies attached to our office suite and gaze at the impressive nearby mountains. The desert mountains, awash with cactus, are a majestic sight. At times they seem so close I can practically reach out and touch them. Why then, it took me three-and-a-half years of working at this location to realize it would be less than a three minute drive to immerse myself in the same mountains I’d been gazing at, I have no idea; but today this lightbulb finally went off, and I took the plunge.
The decision to drive into the mountains at 12:30 pm on a Friday really came out of nowhere. One minute I had gotten up after eating my lunch to stretch my legs and the next, I found myself driving north on 32nd Street toward the mountains I often spy from the balcony.
I had no specific plan other than—drive into them thar hills! I took a left on Lincoln Drive and soon saw the sign for Piestewa Peak. I took a right at the sign and started up the steep, bumpy road. I wasn’t really sure what I was doing, other than soaking in the incredible view. When I saw a sign that read “Caution – Active Bee Area,” I considered turning around, because I much prefer my bees inactive, but I decided to suck it up and keep driving.
Soon I came across a parking lot with a sign that said “Summit,” so I turned in and parked. There were about a dozen cars in the lot, but no people around. Presumably they were off somewhere hiking or fending off active bees. I walked to the trailhead and looked up. The peak looked impossibly high. I had hiked to the top once about 20 years earlier when I had much younger legs and was in much better shape. Now I was pushing 50, it was 100-degrees and I hadn’t thought to bring water, given the spontaneous decision to come there in the first place. As if to drive home the situation, I glanced over at the trailhead signage and saw this:
Should I throw caution to the wind? No, I’m not a moron, so
the story doesn’t get more exciting than this. The view of Phoenix from the
trailhead was spectacular enough. No reason to risk life and limb to get a
better vantage point. I spent about ten minutes at the base of the mountain taking
in the gorgeous vista before deciding to head back to the office, lest I pass
out from heat exhaustion.
I made it back to my desk by 12:59, less than a half hour after I embarked upon my impromptu adventure. My head was cleared (albeit hot) and I was ready for the drudgery of responding to emails once again. And the best part is, I now know where to go when I need a quick respite from work. Yep, I’ll definitely be doing this again…although probably not until December.
