November 18, 2010 – Caught in a Vortex

A vortex site is a place where earth’s energy is channeled to enhance spirituality and human experience. Sedona, often described as Arizona’s Banff, is renowned as one of the world’s premier vortex venues.

We tracked down one of the site maps sponsored by a local realtor who promised he was in “touch” with the vortex “market” and showed it to our camp host at Sedona Rancho RV Park. She explained the phenomena in solemn, thoughtful phrases before slipping out, mentally exhausted, for a smoke on the dilapidated deck of her trailer.

Some vortices enhance masculinity. Others are predisposed to matters feminine. We settled on a “balanced yin/yang” site for our day hike. We sat peacefully meditating atop this vortex for a few minutes and then began our slow descent. On the way down we bickered continually about the quickest route out of there.

The Sedona vortex phenomenon is actually an unseen force designed to suck dollars from the wallets of unsuspecting tourists. It works.

We stopped in at one of Sedona’s many “tourist information centers.” These are simply covers for time-share sales gimmicks. As our young salesman pressured us to “act quickly on this cute one-bedroom from the low five-hundreds” I stared glassy-eyed out the window at the building next door. A “FOR RENT” sign partially covered the previous occupant’s “CLAIRVOYANT” marquee.

“What happened over there?” I asked our now agitated, unsuccessful entrepreneur.

“Oh, the landlord raised the rent. I guess the palm reader just didn’t see it coming,” he deadpanned.

Back at the campground we had a lively conversation in the laundry room with Donna, a semi-retired pharmacist from Regina and Sherilee, a local nut case.

“You mean you’re a woman camping alone and you don’t have a gun?” Sherilee asked Donna.

Petite, kindly Donna looked at me, uncertain how to respond.

Sherilee continued unabashed, “Is it always cold in Canada? Do they have a witness protection program up there?”

We kept a close eye on our laundry that night.

I’m embarrassed to admit that we spent nine of the last ten days of our fall, 2010 camping adventure sleeping in the comfortable queen-size beds of various Phoenix-area friends. The exception was our one-night stay at Desert’s Edge RV, which is located at the convergence of two freeways, miles from the edge of any desert.

Two of the four pages of The RV Park’s glossy brochure are dedicated to advertising pet parks, pet care facilities and pet hospitals. I was disappointed at the lack of ads for pet cemeteries.

Our final hike before returning to the freezing cold was a doozy: a five hour scramble in Lost Dutchman State Park, in the Superstition Mountains, up and over hanging rock to the precarious overlook known as the Flatiron.

The other nine days in Phoenix I spent three-putting.

On the evening of November 18, 2010 we drove home from the Calgary airport in a blinding snowstorm. In 48 hours the temperature had fallen from plus ten to minus thirty-five. A fitting welcome back.

Gerry & Florence