The day we played Lake Havasu City, Arizona it was hot--one of the hottest days I'd ever experienced. But it was a dry heat as they say. I don't care what they say, 120 degrees in mid-afternoon is more than I can comfortably deal with when I have to be out in it.
It was was mid-August and the Magical Land of Oz tour of the World of Fantasy Players was making it's downward swoop of the western states before hitting a few dates in New Mexico and then a month of shows in Texas. We would be heading to Yuma after our evening show at the Lake Havasu City high school. In these climes I tried to schedule our travel time at night when it was a bit cooler.
We killed time in the afternoon checking out the London Bridge. The bridge had been moved stone by stone from London and reassembled here in Lake Havasu. We looked at it but it was so hot that was about all we cared to do. Instead we went to Hussong's Mexican restaurant to eat a leisurely lunch. The main thing we cared about was the air-conditioning.
Thankfully the Performing Arts Center at the high school was air-conditioned. It's a modern facility with an easy load in and a high tech stage and auditorium. We were there ready to go when they opened the stage door at 3 PM so we could get our equipment unloaded and retreat into the coolness of the auditorium.
After the show, when darkness had set in, it was cooler than it had been, but still in the low 90s. The show truck was undoubtedly uncomfortable to ride in, but my van was air-conditioned so that the 150 mile drive to Yuma was not too bad. Not being a freeway it was a somewhat slow drive on parts of route 95, but the last stretch ran through desolate desert and was unencumbered by traffic. We arrived in Yuma around 1 AM. The temperature had cooled down to somewhere in the eighties.
The next day in Yuma it was hot. Not as hot as it had been the day before, but it still got up to about 113 degrees Fahrenheit. When we went out the city was mostly quiet. I guess people stayed in the air conditioning and came out only when they had to. I thought about those stories of people cooking eggs on sidewalks. I wondered if anyone ever ate those eggs.
Yuma doesn't seem like a place I'd want to live. Especially in the summertime. I don't like extreme heat and I have no craving for sidewalk cuisine. There's nothing calling out to me in Yuma.
Yet every winter thousands of people descend upon the city in their travel trailers and motor homes. Snowbirds they're called. They come from Canada and states up North. They fill up the vast treeless encampments that were empty stretches of concrete pads baking in the sun when I saw them. It's not my kind of life but I guess those people like it.
Passing through Yuma on my way to someplace else like Phoenix or San Diego is okay. A short stop in Yuma might even be okay. But I have no desire to be in Yuma under a searing sun, perhaps cooking an egg on a concrete trailer pad where some snowbird will be parking his motor home come December. That's not something I want to do.
I wonder if you can cook bacon on those trailer pads?