Thursday, September 1, 2011

Arizona Road Trip: Jerome, Montezuma's Castle & the Westin Kierland

Arizona Road Trip 2011: Days 6-8
The old mining town of Jerome
After four nights of relaxing in our cabin at the Forest Houses Resort, it was time to pack up and move on to the third and final stage of our Arizona roadtrip. We checked out on a Monday morning and headed south down Highway 89, saying farewell to the stunning red cliffs in and around Sedona. The first stop of the day was the old mining town of Jerome. Jerome is an interesting town, located high up in the hills, and many of the old buildings seem to be literally dangling out over the valley below.

Jerome seems to exist now as mostly a tourist stop, but the word out there is that it's becoming a bit of an artist's enclave. I wonder if this is really true, as all the shops and restaurants in town seemed geared (and priced) toward the tourist trade.

Our first stop was the State Historic Park, located in the original home of one of the big families who got very rich from the copper mining industry. I like old stuff, so I found the place pretty interesting, and my kids have enough of a passing interest in geology to have enjoyed the displays of rocks and the built-to-scale models illustrating the complex trails of mine passages beneath the local hills. The big hit for them was the closet-sized room housing glass shelves of boring looking rocks – until you flicked out the lights, and the rocks glowed with their own natural, stunning phosphorescent colors. 
Front exterior of the State Historical Park
We spent a little over an hour exploring the displays and the grounds. The outside of the home has a collection of original mining equipment and old vehicles. And for me, a fan of old movie musicals, I was interested to find out that the screen version of Oklahoma! had been filmed in Arizona, and in the barn was an old black buggy that had been used in the movie (alas, it was not the actual “surrey with the fringe on top”). We were getting hungry, so we hiked around town looking for food. My daughter spied a sign for “Haunted Burgers,” so we climbed a steep flight of stairs up to the next street, and enjoyed lunch at  The Haunted Hamburger. The place was packed, and for good reason, as we all enjoyed our burgers. No spirits were detected during our hour or so visit, but the place had a good vibe. 
Old buggy that appeared in Oklahoma!
Former bordello
The Haunted Hamburger (note ghosts in the window)
 After lunch, we left Jerome and descended back into the hot, dry valley. It was approaching mid-afternoon, and we were bound next for Montezuma's Castle, the ancient cliff-dwellings of a long departed Native American tribe. It was hot, and fairly crowded for such an isolated spot. (It used to be more isolated, before the Indian casino was built at the entrance to the road that leads to the Castle.) Once you pass through the small museum and obligatory gift shop, you exit onto a paved trail that leads to various viewing areas beneath the cliff dwellings. There is evidence that at one point, the public was allowed to walk on trails through the brush and up onto areas that put you in much closer proximity to the ruins. In fact, I remember visiting this area as a teenager, and hiking with my dad up some fairly steep trails to access the dwellings. But, ahem, that was a couple of decades ago. And times, and policies, change. 
Dwellings at Montezuma's Castle
The landscape around the cliff dwellings is arid and beautiful, and smells wonderfully of that particularly desert-y aroma of sage and creosote. The trail winds down toward the burbling, fresh creek, the same waters that sustained the locals so many hundreds of years ago. It was quiet, peaceful, and idyllic, and one has to wonder at the turn of events or fortunes that forced the Native Americans to abandon their homes. It was hot, it was quiet, and it was the kind of place to reflect and ponder history: to be honest, my kids were completely bored at Montezuma's Castle. They were eager to get back into the air-conditioned car and finish watching their DVD. Ah, score one for the modern world. I still think it was a worthwhile visit, and down the road I hope they'll retain some sense of the place beyond the gigantic lizard they found beneath a bench.

So, back into the car we climbed, ready for our next and final destination: The Westin Kierland resort in Scottsdale. 
Sunset in Scottsdale, looking toward the Kierland's golf course. Note the bagpiper in the foreground. He played every night at sundown.
I'm still not sure of what to say about our three nights at the Westin. I can assure you that, as with every other lodging choice during our road trip, this choice was exhaustively researched, and I had many, many options to choose from. Who knew that the Phoenix area has such a concentration of four-star hotels with water park features? I found that out very quickly, and spent literally hours reading reviews and looking at other people's pictures over on TripAdvisor. In the end, I chose the Westin Kierland, for 3 main reasons:
  1. it was a nice, high-end hotel, and I wanted our road trip to end on a relaxing, somewhat luxurious note. It ranked slightly higher at TripAdvisor than some of its competitors.
  2. it had a water slide, a lazy river, and a Kids Program – after so many days in close proximity, I wanted the option of checking the monkeys into a program and having some 1-on-1 time with the Mister. And the deal-sealer:
  3. over the phone with the Westin representative, I was able to score a $100 per day resort credit. Note the “per day” in bold, because that detail came into play often during our stay. So over three nights, we had $300 in credit to use on anything: meals, spa, kids programs, etc.
After four nights at our laid-back cabin along Oak Creek, it was bit of culture shock to pull up to the swanky Kierland and be met by a valet. Here was where thing already went a bit awry: the valet had my husband pull over at the front entrance. A bell-hop collected our luggage and pillows and started loading them onto a brass cart. All good. I went alone into the hotel to check in, then noticed that behind me were our two suitcases. Why were they there, and not on the cart? So half our luggage (backpacks, duffel bags, pillows) were on the cart outside, and the two main pieces of luggage were sitting on the shiny lobby floor.

I checked in, reminding the clerk at the front desk of my $100 per day credit (which I'd confirmed a week before, over the phone with Westin reservations). He balked at this: $100 per day? Was I sure about that? Most specials, he informed me, were for only $100 per stay. Yes, I said. I was sure. I pulled out the reservation sheet that I'd printed from home before our trip. “Oh, it's a good thing that you have that,” he said. Why? If I hadn't had tangible proof, would he have tried to insist that I was confused, and that my package was $100 per STAY, not per DAY? This was not the best, most welcoming way to kick off our three days of relaxation.

After this, I still needed to find my family, waiting outside with a bellhop and our cart of stuff --- but not the two suitcases,which were still sitting near the front desk area. Again, more confusion as we worked it all out and were finally led to our room.


The room was fine. The room was clean, fresh, and the beds were comfy. I had already been forewarned via other traveler reviews that the Westin's rooms are not that large, but it was still a bit of a surprise to my husband. The bathroom was very nice, with granite counters and a big tiled walk-in shower surrounded by clear glass. It featured a double shower head, but I could never get the lower one to work (and I never called to have it fixed).
We became very familiar with the pool area, as that's where we spent the majority of our stay. (In fact, we only left the property once, for dinner on our last night.)  My kids loved the pool, which is only 4 feet at it's deepest. They also loved the water slide, which is on the small side, but was perfect for my nervous 6-year-old. (I saw all ages on the slide, but I think most kids from about age 11 and up would prefer something faster and more twisty.) The lazy river was kind of a bust, though, as it was the laziest river ride I've ever taken. It was slo-o-o-o-w, which I guess would've been okay if I'd had a margarita in hand...but as it was, in the 108-degree heat, I felt like a hot, bored lizard. (I was comparing it mostly to the lazy river at the Mandalay Bay in Vegas, which manages to be relaxing yet fun. And where you can get cooled off under two waterfalls.) After that first go-round, none of us went on it again during our stay. 
Monkey coming off the waterslide


Westin pool area
Margarita in a cabana: fun to say, fun to do.
On the upside: my children loved the “Pajama Party” that we checked them into one night. The hotel runs a promotion that if you eat at one of the two featured on-site restaurants, the kids party is free. So that was a good deal. They also liked the activity given to them at the kids concierge area, which is a little “passport” featuring all the different eateries, bars and amenities at the resort. They tour the grounds to receive a passport stamp and an enamel pin (like Disneyland trading pins) at each location. Now, I admit to being cynical, and felt that the “kids activity” was merely a ploy to get the grown-ups to also check out (and spend cash at) the spa, the gift shop, the bars, etc. Still, my kids loved wandering around the hotel and collecting their stamps and pins.
Evening at the Westin
The staff, particularly the young women who staff the children's activities, were all very friendly and enthusiastic, and all the staff were willing to talk and provide information. I think our “culture shock” that we initially experienced was underscored by the large healthcare conference that was taking place on the property at the same time. It was a bit of a dichotomy: professionals schmoozing in their corporate work attire, paired with families like us in our flip-flops, schlepping kids and towels off toward the pool.

Overall:  our stay was nice, upscale, and relaxing.  I only wish that we hadn't felt quite so nickel-and-dimed by the whole experience. To me, the underlying vibe reeked of profit, not great service. Whatever comps we were given, whether it was the "kids eat free for breakfast," or the cabana rental fee being pro-rated, had to be haggled over and adjusted.  And please know, I am not at all a "haggler" by nature, or one who tries to "work it" to get free stuff or services.  The haggling was done over specials that were promoted by the hotel, and/or mentioned to us by the staff.   The morning that we left, our final invoice was slid under the door in the early morning hours. Everything was fairly correct...except that, again, my $100 per day resort credit was not reflected at all in the final tally. (There was not a $100 per stay credit, either.) 
The Mr. outside our bottom-floor room.
At the front desk, I was able to clear up the matter fairly quickly – again, with the girl behind the desk commenting on what a rare deal I'd scored, after checking and double and triple checking that my promotional rate was indeed for $100 of resort credit per day. She also was quick to remove a mysterious $18 charge from the ice cream shop, since we hadn't bought anything there. And the $20 per day resort fee always seems ridiculous to me, at any hotel – but at least the parking was free, so I suppose that was a fair offset.

After eight days in Arizona, we were ready to return to home to California. The drive on Interstate 10 from Phoenix felt much longer than our eastbound trip on the 40, the route by which we'd entered Arizona over a week before. Whereas the 40 was scenic and visually different from the California high-desert, Interstate 10 was just one long, long span through dusty flat desert through Arizona, across the California border, and beyond.

It's a different excitement altogether, the one you feel when you pack up and first leave the driveway, versus the one you feel approaching all the old familiar landmarks again. But it's exciting nonetheless, to turn again onto your own street, and call out, “We're home!”
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