Potholes, desert views, bikes and people – Amy’s Love Letter to Tucson

Oracle HillAmy takes us on a journey of her Tucson around The Loop and down the Mountain Avenue bike path that will near have you praising the potholes, so delicious is her description. 

Dear Tucson,

I ride my bicycle to work many days, 8 miles there and 6 miles back, thanks to my very kind husband and a pick up truck.  He picks me up at the bottom of the hill after work, the same hill that inspires my spirit every day on the way down from our home, the hill on Oracle Road that gives me a view of downtown Tucson and the mountains behind and all around, and the sunrise to the east.

I turn and ride along The Loop path for a few miles at the bottom of the hill.  In the summer little prairie dogs are out, they have some other actual name because they are tiny, but they look and act like prairie dogs, and you know they have underground palaces, the entrances from which they poke their heads out or stand nearby, sniffing the air.  The Loop must be a shangri-la for these creatures.  I see one occasionally at a drip line, installed to water a mesquite tree, sipping the water drops like little desert royalty.  And the path itself protects their homes.  Not all tiny prairie dogs have asphalt roofs like these do.  They share the space with rabbits and lizards.  The lizards do push-ups all day, and race across the path with their tails curled up, trying to beat the bikes, which they do with ease, and again I know this little place, on the bank of a usually dry river bed, is urban desert nirvana.  And don’t even get me started on the splendor of the river when it runs, or the daily sunsets.

On the path are other bicyclists, mostly men, mostly wearing advertisement-laden matching spandex outfits, and they always pass me.  I am the middle-aged woman in street clothes in the winter and Target-bought capri leggings and a bike shirt in the summer, with the huge panniers on the back fender, who stops to take a picture, even when late to work.

IMG_0343 (1)There are walkers, too, women in pairs or threesomes engrossed in conversations, and single men with dogs, one who smokes a cigar, a woman with an umbrella who shyly smiles at me, another who feeds the birds and the rabbits from large bags of breadcrumbs, walking quickly as if there is no time to waste.

We all add our own little bit to the fabric and texture of this town. Here, we are all good in our patched-up,… Click To TweetThen I ride down Mountain Avenue toward the university.  No more desert to see, just people, and they are getting younger.  The cyclists still pass me unless they are commuters like me and are my age or older.  A few I pass.

There is one woman, a bit younger than me but not young, who kicks my butt.  I would like to say hello to her, but I can’t catch up.  Someday I will catch her at a light, but I don’t think she is the type to say hi.  She also works at the university, but I have no idea where.  In my imagination, she runs a science lab.

There are bumps in the road, patterns of irregularity in the pavement, cracks to avoid and maneuver around, and I love them.

I should be angry about how bad our infrastructure is, how bad our roads are, but in my heart, I love the roads the way they are.

These roads are home.

These roads can only be loved by people who love Tucson, and they keep away the kind of people who must have smooth roads.

Our roads separate us from the Phoenix people of the grass-and-manicured-shrubbery variety.  The desert deniers.

Our roads separate us from the Phoenix people of the grass-and-manicured-shrubbery variety. #Tucson #LLTT… Click To Tweet

I’m not saying we shouldn’t fix our potholes, they are often filled, as well they should be.  Yet, that the pothole fixes leave patches on the roads and further variegate the surface, that is what and who we are here.  We all add our own little bit to the fabric and texture of this town.  Here, we are all good in our patched-up, imperfect way.

I love the corrugated steel fences, the low cool interiors, the eclectic approach to everything.  I love paned windows in funky storefronts, the small businesses that have to fight pain-in-the-ass city ordinances, and the fact that in a town of a million people, I feel like I know half the people in my profession and run into them everywhere.  I love that people keep Christmas lights up all year long if they want to and no one cares.  I love how people don’t judge, they don’t complain much, and if they do, the complaint is greeted with a compassionate shrug.  I love that most people are friendly.  I love that when there is an inconceivable tragedy, we all grieve, the whole community together, and we all recover together, our hearts patched like potholes in a bumpy pavement.

We all recover together, our hearts patched like potholes in a bumpy pavement. #Tucson #TucsonLove… Click To Tweet

Tucson, you are natural, dry, majestic, cultural, rich, bumpy, hot, scented, watercolored, varied, welcoming, homey, spicy, and I want to live with you forever.

Love,

Amy

Photos courtesy of Amy Cunningham

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