“Grandpa’s Points of Interest”

By

Gerry Niskern

When my dad moved our family to Arizona it was quite a change from hiking the green hills of West Virginia to the exploring Sonoran desert of Arizona and the wonders of the northern part of the state.

When my dad became a grandfather he was in his glory. He had four grandsons, each a year apart and two granddaughters, youngest and oldest. He loved to take them on excursions throughout the state to see the “points of interest”, as dad was fond of calling them. Our children were transported by Grandpa and Grandma to every part of Arizona.

They traversed bumpy, dirt roads to see Strawberry, Wickenburg, and numerous ghost towns. They saw Bumblebee, Kearney and Pumpkin Patch. They went to see the wildflowers on the desert every spring along the Bee Line Highway.

They visited Sunflower and dug and built dams in Sycamore Creek. They went to McNary to experience their first train ride. The Alligator Farms in Apache Junction was a favorite haunt; as were the Manzanita car races on Saturday night.

My sister and I always did say our kids had it easy. We, on the other hand, remembered trips as kids to see “points of interest” that involved getting up and on the road before dawn. “We’ll get a jump on the traffic and then stop for breakfast later; let me know when you see a place.” After two hours on us yelling, “Dad, there’s a restaurant”, mom would put her foot down and say, “I need my coffee!” My sister opted out of the scenic tours when she reached her teens and I was soon so follow.

Of course, dad’s scenic tours as a grandfather weren’t without mishaps. I remember once my little daughter came home with a stained dress from a hike on the desert because she picked up a desert tortoise and it peed bright orange all over her. Or the time they ended up in the ER because her little brother decided to challenge a jumping cactus. The cactus won and he ended up with an arm full of cactus spines that grandpa tried at first to remove with his trusty pliers.

I believe the last excursion that all six grandkids were on was to the Grand Canyon. Most were in their teens. They loved getting to practice driving on the way up. Hiking Bright Angel trail and the horse back riding was fun. But when grandpa would say “Everyone get ready. We’re going out to see a point of interest along the canyon’s rim,” a collective groan went up.

When our first grandson was five we took him camping. We started out the Beeline Highway and when my resident historian asked him to pay attention and listen to probably his third lecture on a “point of interest”, he said, “Grandma, would you turn the radio up louder?”