Two Days in Tucson, Part II: Obey the Heat

In my last post I mentioned a certain nervousness about crossing the Mexican border.  Maybe that’s what fouled up my first attempt to leave Tucson. 

But the result was a valuable reminder in how to live in the desert.

I had heard that it’s best to cross the border in the morning, to leave plenty of time for paperwork as well as getting to your destination (Hermosillo) on the Mexican side.  So I evolved a two-stage plan.  On the first day out of Tucson I would wander through the interesting places south of the city: the San Xavier Mission, Tubac, the Titan Missile Museum, maybe Bisbee and Tombstone.  Then I’d find a campground hard by the border, and next morning cross right over.

I got as far as the San Xavier mission.

The morning was already over 105 degrees as I drove south, and for some reason the heat was really getting to me.  In my last post I said I’d adapted to it, but maybe I’d spoken too soon, for in my Miata cab with the top up for shade I was panting like a dog, tossing empty water bottles on the passenger seat one after another.  And in the white gravel glare of the Mission parkinglot I could only make a beeline for the the sanctity of the shade inside.

Is this what motivates the piety of the Franciscan monks—simple shade?  It certainly motivated mine, as I lingered for longer than a usual tourist browse.  Suddenly I had no desire to stroll through the art galleries of Tubac or the picturesque streets of Bisbee.  In fact I didn’t want to be outside at all. 

I’ve lived in Tucson long enough to know the danger signs of heat exposure, and when I finally did leave the Mission (as I had to eventually), and sat in my car in the parkinglot at high noon, trying to make a new plan, a red alert kicked in.  “Make a decision NOW, and get going,” was the klaxon in my head.

And I turned around, drove back to Tucson, and went to a movie at the nearest cinema I could find.  I sat through the stupid “Wonder Woman” movie in delicious bliss at the air conditioning.  And then I booked a nearby hotel on my phone, checked in, and spent another night in Tucson.

I finally understood.  It wasn’t that I suddenly became more sensitive to the heat than yesterday.  I had simply broken the rules.  My plan of finding a campground, which worked in Utah, was a grave violation in Tucson: it meant I had left my “house” without being able to go back, and without knowing where I was going.  Even if I did pitch a tent, I’d still be outdoors.  As far as my body was concerned, I was out in the heat permanently—and when it said “permanently” it wasn’t joking.

One can live with the heat and even appreciate it, but one has to follow its rules.  They are: carry plenty of water, and know how to get back indoors.

Later in the afternoon, with the temperature still over 100, I went out to change currency, have dinner, and take a sunset walk at Sabino Canyon—and I was fine.  In fact it was a beautiful evening.  I had a room to go back to.  I had followed the rules.