I eventually made my way up the hill to the cliffside stone circle I'd constructed 3 years hence; where I had stood daily at dawn and said hello to the day. This is where I placed some of dad's ashes. The Iowa farmer had an Arizona kick-ass view overlooking Lake Havasu. I sat on a small boulder and we talked the afternoon away. Mostly, he talked, I listened.
The following two nights I parked on my old friend Frank's land that borders the Sonoran National Monument west of Tucson. Frank and I had started the Salida Audubon Society back in the early 80's. We'd climbed Kit Carson and Challenger Peaks (2 of Colorado's 14,000-foot peaks) in the '90's. Nothing compared, however, to one memorable Thanksgiving backpack to the bottom of the Grand Canyon with friends. When---exhausted, blistered and totally spent, Frank and the guys pulled a cooked turkey and all the trimmings out of their packs. Even cranberries!