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I remember weather

This morning Brent and Tiffany packed up their Airstream to head back home, but we decided to stay on for a couple more days. Prescott is full of great recreation (hiking, cycling, boating), the camping is cheap, and the weather is beautiful this time of year.

Prescott Safaris.jpg
Two Airstream Safari 30 bunkhouses side-by-side

Just around the corner from our campground is an abandoned rail line that has been turned into a multi-use trail. It’s the former Santa Fe, Phoenix & Prescott line, which served mines from Crown King (54 miles from here) down to Phoenix. Rich C led us on a trip up the trail, past Lake Watson.

Prescott trail ride.jpg

Emma’s legs were a little sore from all the rock scrambling of yesterday, so she and Eleanor bailed out after about two miles, but Rich C and I checked out about six miles of the trail. So far that’s all that you can ride, but the trail will eventually go much further.

Prescott trail lake view.jpg

The views as the trail works through the granite dells are absolutely fantastic. The granite has eroded into magnificent spires, balls, crevices and grikes. Looking at them is like studying clouds, with an endlessly changing arrangement of imaginary things floating by.

Rich C and I went out for lunch at the historic Hotel St Michael in downtown Prescott. It’s rare to find a downtown early 20th century hotel still in operation. Most seem to be victims of urban renewal, blight, or lack of parking. This one appears to still have a lively lodging business, restaurant, and a small mall.

Prescott St Michael.jpg

Being down in southern Arizona I’ve forgotten the variety of weather that most other parts of the country enjoy. But up here in Prescott (elevation 5300) anything can happen. This afternoon we abruptly went from sunny, dry and upper 70s to rumbling thunder and spitting rain.

It doesn’t rain a lot here but the thunderstorms can be dramatic. Now it’s in the 50s and dropping while the trees sway in the gusty wind. It’s a neat change to see a little weather again. But having had a taste, I won’t mind returning to the scorching dry desert next week.