When we were kids, Mom used to drive us on Sunday mornings over the desert and through the cactus � to Carefree, where there was little more than a tiny convenience store and (luckily) a bathroom. Stick on your helmet (please!), watch out for the lame-brains driving all around you, and get your motor running. By the time you're halfway there, the city seems far, far away. The views of the mountains and desert are as good as it gets around here, and the traffic, thankfully, is usually sparse. Exit at the Princess/Pima Road offramp and follow the signs from Pima Road North to the lake. Here's how it goes: From central Phoenix, get up to the 101 East, either from Interstate 17 or 51 North. But a guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do, right? Yeah, baby!Īnd what a route you found, one that scoots you, in almost no time, far from the maddening crowds of our metropolis. Oh, okay, she jumped all over you for this sudden and unquenchable need to be a potential organ donor. It wasn't that your midlife job (and the accompanying stress) was all that bad, but you were just looking for something new and exciting that wouldn't get you in too much trouble with the wife. So, you went out and bought that bad boy of a motorcycle just for the heck of it.
