Live Art

VIRGINIA HALL Here holding a cotton mop she transformed into a paintbrush, Hall often makes her own brushes from natural fibers, straw, grasses, mops and sponges. She also uses conventional paintbrushes.

BY VERA MARIE BADERTSCHER: PHOTOGRAPHS BY DAVID ZICKL : PHOTOSTYLING BY RAECHEL RUNNING

“THE FIRST TIME I came to Tubac it was like falling in love,” says Carol St. John. “I felt drunk on the air.” In Tubac, crowded with art galleries, artist-and-writer Carol St. John plays matchmaker, bringing together artists and viewers on her “A Tubac Experience” art tours. She aims to help people discover the essence of one of Arizona's oldest towns and meet artists who work there. The historic town hides off Interstate 19 south of Tucson, so far south that it seems part of Mexico. A recent tour drew 10 people to St. John's studio-gallery in the El Presidito complex of small studios wrapped around a courtyard mimicking a Spanish fort. She quickly recounts the oft-destroyed-and-rebuilt village's history, then turns to thesubject of art. During the tour, three other artists also open their studios to help St. John's clients to understand more clearly the language of art. In her studio, her guests loosen their own artistic muscles and play with line, form and color. Uncertain, they poke and prod small balls of clay and give the resulting sculptures names ranging from fanciful, The Embrace, to pragmatic, The Rock, to ironic, George. St. John rejects only one name. A guest says, “This is called Lack of Artistic Ability.” But St. John retorts, “Nope. Can't go there.” She says everyone is an artist and underscores the point in a group painting exercise. Her seven newly minted artists mix with three others

ART AROUND ARIZONA

From Flagstaff to Tubac, galleries and studios in Arizona's thriving artist communities display works of art ranging from beaded jewelry to landscape oil paintings. Here are eight places where you can browse at your leisure, meet artists and shop.

TUBAC: AN ART EXPERIENCE

On November 11 and 12, the artists of Tubac gather for "Tubac: An Art Experience." This twoday festival gives visitors a chance to meet the artists and observe the creative process. With close to 90 shops and galleries, you might need two days to get a good look. Information: (520) 398-2704; www.tubacaz.com.

In a smaller show, Tubac Center of the Arts will showcase the artwork of four Tubac artists: Virginia Hall, David Simons, Carol St. John and Jim Toner. The show will also include photographer David Zickl's portraits of the four artists and runs through November 12. Information: (520) 398-2371; www.tubacarts.org.

9TH ANNUAL HIDDEN IN THE HILLS STUDIO TOUR

The last two weekends of November, artists in the Cave Creek, Carefree and north Scottsdale area open their studios to the public. The tour, sponsored by the Sonoran Arts League, features 157 artists at 46 studio locations. Attendees meet the artists and watch them at work. Information: (480) 575-6624; www. SonoranArtsLeague.org.

FLAGSTAFF FIRST FRIDAY ARTWALK

The galleries of historic downtown Flagstaff open the first Friday of every month from 6 to 9 p.m. Shops and restaurants stay open, contributing to the street party atmosphere. Walkers are also treated to artist demonstrations and live music. Information: (928) 699-6824: www.theartistsgallery.net.

JEROME ART WALK

If you're in Jerome on the second Saturday of the month, stop by the Jerome Art Walk. Twenty-four galleries and artists' studios open their doors from 5 to 8 P.M. A free shuttle helps visitors tackle "America's Most Vertical City." Some galleries spice up the evening with refreshments and live music. Information: www. jeromeartwalk.com.

PHOENIX FIRST FRIDAYS

Pick up a brochure at the Phoenix Public Library, then hop on one of five shuttles to take a self-guided tour of more than 90 downtown Phoenix galleries, studios and art spaces on the first Friday of the month, from 6 to 11 P.M. You can also visit shops, restaurants and music venues that round out the event. Information: (602) 256-7539; www.artlinkphoenix.com.

PRESCOTT 4TH FRIDAY ART WALKS

Prescott's Friday night art walk showcases artists in 15 participating galleries located on or around historic Whiskey Row within a four-block radius. Many galleries offer wine and light snacks, and some have entertainment. The art walk takes place on the fourth Friday of the month, from 5 to 8 P.M. Information: (928) 308-0583; www. artthe4th.com.

SCOTTSDALE ARTWALK

This art walk, a 30-year tradition in downtown Scottsdale, takes place every Thursday from 7 to 9 P.M. Cruise the Scottsdale arts district and duck in and out of galleries to learn about the featured artists and enjoy some refreshments. With more than 100 galleries participating, art enthusiasts will find an array of styles. Information: (480) 990-3939; www. scottsdalegalleries.com.

SEDONA 1ST FRIDAY EVENING IN THE GALLERIES

Jump on and off the free trolley to tour 16 of Sedona's eclectic art galleries on the first Friday of each month, from 5 to 8 P.M. Some galleries feature on-site artist demonstrations, as well as food and drink. Information: (928) 282-6865; www.SedonaGalleryAssociation.com.

With actual experience. They move around a single table, dipping, dribbling, spraying and dripping until St. John declares the butcher paper "canvas" fully covered. Now they're ready to take to the streets of Tubac to meet their fellow artists.

St. John pauses on a bridge over the Santa Cruz River to talk about history. Tubac's past includes swords and crosses, the picks and shovels of miners and more recently, paintbrushes and carving tools. Spanish soldiers built a presidio to protect the chapel of Santa Gertrudis and expand their northern empire. The explorer and soldier Juan Bautista de Anza directed the Presidio San Ignacia de Tubac in the 1760s and led an expeditionto found San Francisco. Nearly a century later, Charles Poston attracted one thousand people to Tubac to work in his nearby silver mines. Nearly another century went by until Marjorie and Dale Nichols started the flood of paint when they established an art school in 1948.

Near the eastern edge of Tubac, where horses pose in pastures studded with cottonwood trees, St. John's group straggles into the quiet courtyard of Virginia Hall's gallery. Mysterious arrangements of rock and sparse plantings lead to the home and gallery. Inside, a black grand piano on the gray stone floor dominates the nearly monochrome room. Huge abstract paintings similarly drained of color line the walls.

DAVID SIMONS

A self-taught artist, Simons captures the brilliance of the Arizona landscape in his multihued watercolors and oil paintings. He enjoys painting en plein air (in the open air) at Tumacacori National Historical Park, which houses three early Spanish colonial missions.

With her childlike face and round glasses, Hall looks like a little girl playing at being a grownup, although her graying hair says otherwise. She arrived in town in 1979, and is now known as the Grande Dame of Tubac artists. She seems as mysterious and challenging as her paintings. In her studio, unfinished paintings in the palest mist of black and gray hang on the wall. Although she says that she does not talk about her art because it needs to speak for itself, one of the guests asks about courting the creative spirit. "Time has no meaning." She hesitates and says she has no words for it, and then she tries again. "Time just totally disappears." The visitor persists. "How do you find that place?"

"For me, I just get out of my own way." Hall realizes that some people just do not "get" her enigmatic paintings and she delights in the moment of realization that art sometimes brings.

"One of my favorite things is when a couple comes in-and they've been married about 50 years and he'll say, 'I love that,' and she'll say, 'You do?' Suddenly they turn and see each other for the first time."

Next, ST. JOHN LEADS the caravan to David Simon's hilltop home. Participants unwrap their deli lunches on a porch with expansive views and chat about artists and their intentions. Simons invites the group into his living room gallery. Light fills the high-ceilinged room and sharpens the azures, purples, lively greens and sunshiny yellows of his oil landscapes of mountains and deserts.

Unlike Hall, who turned away from color when she felt her work getting stale, Simons strives to get the exact value of the colors of nature. He calls the process "chasing beauty." The color is more important than the subject, he explains. One painting focuses on a rusting car slowly merging with its background of nature.

In his one-car-garage-sized studio, the group gets a glimpse of his dual life. His tiny studio doubles as a construction office. The left half is left-brained-flow charts and calendars crammed with deadlines. The right half is right-brained paintings leaning on easels or stacked every which way. A working artist for 22 years, Simons is also an architect and builder.

The caravan leaves Simons' hilltop and heads south to the studio of Jim Toner, whose furniture pieces blur the line between utility and art. Starting on the West Coast, carving custom-designed furniture pieces like the swan table he sold to Prince Charles and Princess Diana, his work evolved to include sculptures, both realistic and abstract. He now lives and works in Carmen, Arizona, a speck on the map beside Tubac. His warehouselike studio boasts industrialsized equipment because Toner works in several mediums, all three-dimensional and most very large.

He carves stone and wood, creates fanciful furniture, and shapes life-sized birds from plasteline (a non-hardening modeling clay), and larger animals in clays. Both the small bird and larger animal sculptures ultimately will be cast in 3-D bronze. Everything in the studio gets grimy from the rock and wood dust. A boom box and a stack of classical and jazz CDs sit on a side table. "Episode in the Life of an Artist" from Berlioz' Symphonie Fantastique fills the air.

IM TONER

Toner works on his sculpture The Nightbirds, which will later be cast in bronze. Even though they resemble real birds, Toner says his interpretation of them comes from a language of his own voice.

Toner shows the visitors an abstract mesquite woodcarving, a complex symphony of curves. A carver since childhood, he is fascinated by the shapes naturally present in the wood-whorls that mimic what one can see in seashells, waves and plants. In contrast to the abstract wood piece, two high-backed wooden chairs look like refugees from a Renaissance manse. The patterned damask covering the seats appears antique, but the intricate carvings on the back are just a tad too modern to be relics from the past. Behind them, a thoroughly modern floor lamp testifies to the endless variety of this artist's creation.

The tour group has interrupted him as he works on some small bird that he is forming from plasteline. Since the material never hardens, he builds the birds an armature of wire. Toner looks at books propped open on his workbench to check the exact look of real birds, but his objective is to create something different. "I am trying to leave the real and reach for the fantastic world," he says.

St. John asks about his relationship to his tools, and he picks up a handful of chisels. "I have 200 chisels," he says. The demands of wood require very exact sizes and angles of tools. However, Toner explores other materials as well.

"I just brought in 1,000 pounds of rock," he says, excited about the possibilities. "I am collecting great stones," he says. "I spent hours and hours and hours at the Tucson Gem and Mineral Show. I am trying to learn the language of more precious stones." Even his furniture designs are changing, with woodcarving or metal that includes art glass or bronze.

Back finally where they started, the travelers cut up the now dry group painting and frame each piece as a souvenir. Reluctantto leave, they ponder what they have seen and experienced.

While thousands of visitors stroll through Tubac in a year, parking your car and walking around is different than participation, says one guest.

"You are cheating yourself if you only go to the gallery, without meeting the artist," says another of the group. And so off they go to meet more artists and drink the air of

A

Vera Marie Badertscher of Tucson still does not know how artists do it, but she is glad they do.

David Zickl of Fountain Hills was fascinated by artist Virginia Hall's stories of luncheons in the home of Ansel Adams with Elliot Porter and Edwin Land.

when you go

Location: Tubac.

Getting There: To find Carol St. John's gallery, exit Interstate 19 south of Tucson at Exit 34 and follow the frontage road on the east side of the highway to the entrance to Tubac. Bear right on Tubac Road, continuing to Burruel Street. Turn left. El Presidito stands at the northeast corner of Calle Iglesia and Burruel Street.

Additional Information: (520) 398-2704 or www.tubacaz.com.

The Grandest Gym

WE ARE TWO HOURS INTO THE GRAND CANYON on the well-trod North Kaibab Trail, taking a break, when seven remarkably fit-looking middle-aged guys lurch into view below. There's water here, so they shed their packs and join us, briefly. Since it's late morning, I venture they've hiked 10 miles from Bright Angel campground.

"South Rim," says one. "We started at 4 this morning." That's 19 miles, and even though a lot of it was downhill, I'm impressed.

"Going back tomorrow?"

"This afternoon. We do Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim in one day every October. This is our 11th year."

I run the numbers: 48 miles, 10,300 vertical feet. I pose the only possible question: "Why?"

"We don't know," answers one.

"Because 11 comes after 10," laughs another.

Finally, one of the über-hikers offers a serious answer: "If you have to do this every year, it's a big incentive to stay in shape. You can't get up for this in two weeks."

If there's a deeper psychological vein, I don't get the time to mine it-they gobble gorp, glug water and they're gone, heaving themselves at the Rim.

I congratulate myself on my comparative sanity. Then, even before that thought drains away, I'm daydreaming myself into a 24-hour Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim. What an achievement!

What a ludicrous, delusional, ego-bloated fantasy!

But the Grand Canyon is always doing this to people, filling heads with outlandish ideas. Build a railway in it. Throw a dam across it. Jump over it on a rocket-powered motorcycle. Stage Wagner's Ring in it. Swim the length of it. Fly a paraglider across it. (The first four were all seriously proposed; the latter two actually happened, in 1955 and 2004 respectively.) Hiking (or running) the r2r2r is almost routine. The National Park Service says it doesn't know how many people try or succeed, since they require permits only for overnight backpackers. Officially, the NPS frowns on the practice, posting warnings both online and onsite to not attempt hiking "to the river and back" (not even once) in one day. But if you're strolling the North Kaibab or Bright Angel trails in October-the best month, weatherwise you'll encounter several every day, easily identified by their minimalist packs, ferocious pace and steel-eyed gaze. An "extreme dayhiking" Web site even lists an unofficial record: in 1981, Allyn Cureton of Williams, Arizona, knocked off the r2r2r in 7:51:23.

There's no environmental sin being committed here that I can discern. A speedy transect of the Canyon causes no more wear and tear on the Coconino sandstone than a plodding backpack expedition. The Canyon is vast enough to accommodate a wide range of motivations and egos. There is a cost to the hiker,though, and it's deeper than aching quads.

When I lived in Tucson, I liked to ride my bike to the east unit of Saguaro National Monument (now Saguaro National Park) every Saturday, and cruise the 8-mile loop through the Rincon Mountain foothills. It was a terrific ride, blooming with hills and curves and stunning scenery. But when I installed an electronic speedometer on my bike, which would calculate average speed and elapsed time, everything changed. Every excursion became a time trial, a test of character. Each Saturday I had to better the previous week's time, or the ride was a failure.

There came one Saturday after a week of unusual rain, and when I rode the loop I heard the rustle and crash of water in the desert near the road. There were ephemeral creeks, maybe waterfalls, things that hadn't existed before and would never be there again in exactly the same configurations. I didn't stop to investigate; I was on pace to break 25 minutes. And I did it a personal best. The triumph then gnawed at me all week, and the next Saturday I ripped the speedometer off and never used it again.

I had lost something precious in transforming a natural wonder into my personal gym. I had missed a chance to enrich my sanctum of memories and understanding of the Sonoran Desert, instead distilling the day into a statistic.

I'm no psychologist, but I've spent time enough in the Grand Canyon watching people and pondering my own emotions to realize that we all have difficulty relating to it on nature's terms. Its physical scale and its 5 million years of evolution are almost too grand, literally, to comprehend. We seem to need to do something in it, or to it, that shrinks it to human scale or human experience. A quantifying line-"I ran the r2r2r in 12 hours"-defines the Grand Canyon in terms of human ability. Nature relentlessly dares us to test ourselves against her, and there aren't many earthly dares bigger than the Grand Canyon. There also aren't many rewards bigger than in tamping down the ego, plodding slowly and respectfully across the Canyon, making its deeper acquaintance. Al

OUR ANNUAL GREETING CARD TO THE WORLD ARIZONA HIGH CELEBRATE MORE THAN 81 YEARS OF ARIZONA HIGHWAYS MAGAZINE

For 81 years, Arizona Highways has captured the natural beauty of the Grand Canyon state's most renowned landscapes and delivered award-winning stories about the history and culture to readers around the world. For travel in and around the state, Arizona Highways has you covered. Whether you enjoy hiking and exploring the diverse landscape of the desert, or visiting hidden towns full of surprises, Arizona Highways will take you where you want to go, and provide all the direction and information you need to get there.

Order a one-year subscription, for yourself or as a gift, for just $21. Each additional one-year gift is just $19. (Subscriptions outside the U.S., please add $20 for each year ordered.)

Giving Subscriptions to Arizona Highways is Quick and Easy

Hike for the eagle-eyed Birds enliven the Parker Canyon Lake Stroll Coronado Missed

WHEN SPANISH EXPLORER Francisco Vasquez de Coronado wandered through southeast Arizona in search of the Seven Cities of Gold, he missed Parker Canyon Lake in the San Rafael Valley. He never heard the early morning cacophony of songs from birds hidden in the shoreline vegetation, never fished its waters and never hiked the encircling Lakeshore Trail. That's because the lake would not exist for another 450 years, when in 1966 the Arizona Game and Fish Department built an earthen dam in the southern reaches of the Canelo Hills to capture runoff From the western slopes of the Huachuca Mountains. The 5-mile Lakeshore Trail begins at the general store and boat-launch area. For the first 300 yards, the trail is paved and barrier free. From the nearby Lakeview campground, several trails radiate out toward the lake and the Lakeshore Trail.

The flat yet winding trail, never more than a stone's throw from the lake's shore, draws you on into patches of willow thickets, oak savannahs and rolling grasslands littered with rounded juniper trees. The unique blend of plant life, edged by the lake, pulses with bird life. Exotic sounds fascinate the inquisitive hiker, including a crescendo of shrieks from scolding grackles, grunts from squabbling coots and squawks from grumpy great blue herons. The sounds blend to create an atmosphere of tropical intrigue. Meanwhile, overdressed drill sergeants doubling as peevish redwinged blackbirds flash their epaulets and scream orders at other birds.

BIRD LAND

At about the halfway point, near the north end of the lake, the trail passes a wildlifeviewing bench, one of several that overlook the lake placed by the Forest Service along the trail. The interpretive sign describes a pair of "semipermanent" resident bald eagles, which spend most of each winter there. One hiker, who stopped to enjoy the view from the bench, watched an immature eagle swoop down to nab a fish. The eagle missed and flew away "empty-taloned." With bald eagles soaring overhead, many of the lake's visiting mergansers, buffleheads and herons must remain vigilant or risk becoming the eagles' dinner. Mostly, though, the eagles have their eyes on the fish. So do the fishermen who use the trail to access their favorite fishing hole. Parker Canyon Lake was created solely for recreation, mainly fishing and boating. The general store manager boasts that three state-record fish have been pulled from the lake: a big sunfish; a huge, black bullhead catfish; and a monster of a 32-pound, 4-ounce channel catfish, large enough, so the story goes, to swallow a Humvee. So, with binoculars in one hand, fishing pole in the other, and

a day pack full of trail mix, any intrepid hiker can have a full day of adventure on the Lakeshore Trail-and discover the treasure that Francisco Vasquez de Coronado missed out on. Length: 5 miles.

►trail guide

Elevation Gain: None.

Difficulty: Easy.

Payoff: Bird-watching and fishing.

Getting There: From Tucson, drive east on Interstate 10 for 21 miles to the State Route 83 exit. Drive south on State 83 for 27 miles to Sonoita. Continue south on 83 for approximately 25 miles to Parker Canyon Lake.

Additional Information: Sierra Vista Ranger District, (520) 378-0311; www.fs.fed.us/r3/coronado/forest/recreation/lakes/parker_lake.shtml.

back road adventure

desert dirt Rugged Kofa Mountains route offers a dash of history and hope of a survivor

I SEEK TREASURE, adventure and a glimpse of a survivor. All await beyond the map's safely solid red line and beyond the scary dotted red line of a back-road journey through the volcanic contortions of the Kofa Wildlife Refuge. Here, the earth erupted, silver precipitated, palm trees lingered, bighorns persisted and prospectors perished. And along the way, I can indulge a foolishly addictive affection for deep desert and seldom-traveled dirt roads. So I gas up on the eastern edge of Yuma, drive north 23 miles on U.S. Route 95 and turn onto paved Castle Dome Mine Road, which passes through the Yuma Proving Grounds where Gen. George Patton trained for the North Africa campaign. A stern sign insists I cast aside any drugs, pornography, counterfeit money, gasoline in glass containers and seditious material. Is Mark Twain seditious? I resolve to risk it.

The road turns to dirt in 2 miles and enters the Kofa Wildlife Refuge in 5 as it rollicks toward the Castle Dome Mountains. The jagged peaks run along the edge of the 665,000-acre refuge, established in 1939 to protect the desert bighorn sheep and the state's largest groves of California fan palms. The Kofas' 1,000-sheep herd has essentially saved bighorns in Arizona. Hungry miners and disease-bearing domestic sheep and goats reduced the tens of thousands of desert bighorns in the Southwest to an early 20thcentury handful. In Arizona, most of the survivors lived in the Kofas. In the past 50 years, the Arizona Game and Fish Department has relocated the Kofa sheep all over the state, boosting the statewide population to about 6,000. Of course, the transplanted sheep face hazards. Although they can scramble up a cliff face and cover 10 feet in a single bound, about 10 percent of the transplants die from

END OF THE DAY

Sunset settles over southwest Arizona's Castle Dome Peak, within the Kofa National Wildlife Refuge.

And dusk to munch ocotillo, jojoba and fairyduster. They can even break open a barrel cactus and get moisture from the bitter, mushy pulp.

So I probably won't spot one of these tough survivors, but I'll settle for treasurespecifically a stop at the Castle Dome Mine, 7 miles into the trip. Col. Jaccob Snivley and Herman Ehrenberg started working earlier mining scars here in the middle of the Civil War, which makes it one of the oldest mining districts in Arizona. Mining extended fitfully from 1858 to 1978. A reconstructed mining museum stuffed with fascinating artifacts and powered by solar panels is open every day but Monday. It features about 25 sun-splintered mining buildings, a halfway-to-hellfire church, a one-cell jail and a reconstructed mill. Owner Allen Armstrong has assembled a vintage stamp with which he'll soon be making silver coins from the mine, to help show off the world's largest brick of silver-a whopping 250 pounds. In 1878, the mine produced the world's biggest wagons-big enough to haul 20 tons when hitched to a 40horse team. Reportedly the shafts for the silver mine descend 750 feet, and the piles of vintage equipment and knickknacks of daily life make a fascinating pause along a bumpy road.

Beyond the Castle Dome Mine, the road quickly turns into a rocky, high-clearanceonly road winding through forests of saguaro, thickets of cholla and scatters of ocotillo along the base of a nervous breakdown of rock. The road lurches with haphazard ambition into a wonderfully raw pass through the Castle Dome Mountains. I nearly throw my neck out of gear, whipping back and forth between the rock-toothed road and the potentially bighornharboring confusion of cliffs. The road doesn't absolutely insist on four-wheel drive until I reach a steep, loose detour around a washout 7 miles beyond the Castle Dome Mine. Only low gear in my four-

wheel

DRILLING AND FILLING

Miners and their families could get their cavities and prescriptions filled, evidenced by the antique dentist's chair and the stack of prescription receipts, many written for alcohol, which during Prohibition was used for “medicinal” purposes.

Four-wheel-drive Jeep gets me past this point.

The road emerges from the mountain, rattles through ocotillos and finally fetches up against the unlabeled King Road. U.S. 95 lies 6 miles west, and 8 miles farther north, the highway connects to Palm Canyon Road, which leads to the trailhead for the hike to Palm Canyon. There stands a grove of California fan palms, stranded in the desert 10,000 years ago as the Ice Age waned. But I turn east onto the perfectly graded King Road. After 6 miles, the road forks. The Welton-Kofa Road continues southeast toward Interstate 8 east of Yuma. But I head north on the unmarked road leading on to the King of Arizona Mine, from which the Kofas scrounged their name. The narrowing but still two-wheel-drivable road leads on another 8 miles to the scattered tailings of the King of Arizona Mine, speckled with inholdings. The silver-, leadand gold-mining operations launched in 1897 extracted $3.5 million worth of gold and silver from shafts up to 750 feet deep before playing out in 1910. The reddish rhyolite Kofa Mountains jab at the deep-desert sky-stone giants caught in furious struggle and the slopes bristle with an alien landscape of ocotillos.

route finder

FULL MOON RISING

The moon casts an eerie glow over teddy bear chollas and a saguaro cactus near the ghostly remains of the Castle Dome mining camp.

I sit beside the Jeep, listening to the crackle of the cooling engine block, systematically searching the jagged slopes with my binoculars.

I see not one bighorn, but I figure he's up there, watching me as he watched the StoneAge hunters, wandering Apaches and gold-crazed prospectors.

No matter, the hope of him has led me to this treasure of a day. So I crack the ice chest and drink a toast to survivors. HVehicle Requirements: Parts of this route require highclearance and four-wheel drive. Warning: Back-road travel can be hazardous. Be aware of weather and road conditions. Carry plenty of water. Don't travel alone, and let someone know where you're going and when you plan to return. Additional Information: Kofa National Wildlife Refuge, (928) 783-7861; www.fws.gov/ southwest/refuges/arizona/kofa. html; Castle Dome Mining Museum, (928) 920-3062.

travel tips