By: Paul S. Cilwa Viewed: 11/16/2019
Topics/Keywords: #SouthMountainRegionalPark #Hiking #Arizona #Travel Page Views: 1483
All about my visits to the South Mountain Regional Park, including lots of photos.
South Mountain

Residents call the Greater Phoenix area the Valley of the Sun, but it isn't a real valley.

A real valley is carved by a river. That never happened here, but the Valley of the Sun is defined by mountain ranges nonetheless. The mountains to the West of Phoenix are called the White Tanks (or White Tank Mountains, if one is speaking formally).

South Mountain Park in Phoenix, Arizona, is the largest municipal park in the United States, one of the largest urban parks in North America and in the world. It includes over 58 miles of trails for hiking, horseback riding, and cycling, and rises about 1000 feet above the floor of the Valley of the Sun.

Scattering Willis

By: Paul S. Cilwa Occurred: 4/19/2009
Topics: #Photography #WillisFrye #SouthMountain Page Views: 3382
All about the day Michael and I scattered the ashes of our friend, Willis, on South Mountain.

About a week ago, our friend Willis Frye passed away. He was found in his apartment by cleaning people, having had a stroke, and taken to the hospital. The next day he was transferred to hospice, an MRI at the hospital having discovered that, in addition to his diabetes, Chronic Pulmonary Disease, and bad heart, he also had a massive brain tumor and another tumor in his liver. Michael was able to get over to see him, and though he couldn't speak or even open his eyes, he was able to let Michael know that he knew Michael was there.

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Ponderosa Stables

By: Paul S. Cilwa Occurred: 10/6/2019
Topics: #HorsebackRiding Page Views: 231
Ride with us, ages 3 to 70, through the Sonoran Desert on horseback.

40 years ago, I rode a horse. It was part of a school outing. The moment I sat on him, he bucked, and, with me still on him, galloped to his stable, which he entered while I ducked, ran out again, and was finally contained long enough for me to be lifted off. Nothing like that happened with the gentle, intelligent horses we rode this morning at Ponderosa Stables, at the foothills of South Mountain. At 68 I was not the oldest in our group; the youngest was my grandson, Dominic, who just turned 3.

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