What do you pack for a trip to Arizona in December? According to the internet, everything. Tank tops & sweaters, bathing suits & gloves – bring a few suitcases & pack generously because you never know what to expect. 

It was a late night before the plane trip. Because of a fun, Christmas event at work, I was up late packing. Before I knew it, 1am had arrived, & it was time for me to get ready.

We had a few small disputes among the family on what time to leave for the airport. To err on the side of caution & make sure no one felt anxious about missing the flight, we arrived at the airport an overly responsible two-and-a-half hours early. 

We zoomed through baggage claim & security, & then used our extra time to enjoy a relaxed breakfast & coffee before our flight. The world was still dark when we ascended into the sky, perfect for an early morning nap. 

We arrived into sunny Arizona by late morning. We were not allowed to check-in to our Airbnb until later in the day, so we went straight to visiting family instead. We met up with my uncle, his girlfriend, & three of his children in their hotel room, & then we all went to my great aunt & uncle’s home for dinner, where we met up with a couple of my mom’s cousins & family friends. We were all gathered together from all over the country for my great uncle’s 87th birthday. 

It was fun to spend our first evening just relaxing with family. We spent the time enjoying drinks & good food, chatting & laughing. With thousands of miles dividing us, we hardly ever get to spend time or catch up with these family members, & it is always a joy to hear the stories from the past couple years & reminisce together.

The night grew late far faster than expected, & being awake for over 22 hours on three hours of sleep was taking its toll. We left, yawning & bleary-eyed, & drove through the streets lit bright with Christmas lights to our Airbnb. There is something quite interesting about hearing Christmas music & seeing Christmas decorations in such a hot, dry climate. Whoever said Arizona gets freezing cold in the early morning & late night must have been an Arizona native, because anyone who comes from a climate that actually grows reasonably cold would respectfully disagree. It gets chilly, but shorts & a hoodie still suffice. And to be dressed in summer clothes while experiencing the merriment of Christmas seems a little bizarre. I know many people go somewhere warm for the holidays, but I am a traditional Christmas movie girl & I want the snow, sweaters & pine trees, not sun tan lotion, bathing suits, & palm trees. 

We slept in late the following morning to make up for the exhaustion the day previously. Joseph & I started the day with a run in our neighborhood, & then we met up with my uncle, his girlfriend, & our cousins for a trip to the Phoenix Zoo. We walked through the paved streets, peering in at the exhibits & chatting comfortably. The exhibits were nice & appeared comfortable for the animals, but the true attraction was spending time with family.

The sky was still light when the zoo closed, so we decided to go on a little adventure & go to the Hole in the Rock. It’s an easy hike – just over a quarter mile – that leads to a scenic point created by an unusually large hole in the tall rock. 

I suppose it was a little too boring for those in our group with overly adventurous spirits. My dad, brother & Joseph decided to take the hike to the next level & climb up the front of the rock structure, which was no easy feat considering the grade of the ascent & my brother’s casual dress shoes. The rest of us walked around the rock structure & walked up the steps in the stone that lead to the wide hole. The setting sun reflected off of the red rock, creating a warm glow that emanated from the hole as we hiked up. Once inside the hole, the rock formed a small cave-like opening with an excellent overhead view of the zoo & dark blue mountains in the distance.

The adventurous ones in our group had climbed higher above the hole, & I, not wanting to miss out on the view, precariously climbed higher. Ankles teetering sideways, body leaning uncomfortably against the rocky structure, I climbed, slipping & sliding, up the side of the rock. My fellow travelers encouraged me, & soon I was settled up at the top, shaky & determinedly staying seated to be sure I would not fall, but feeling accomplished. From here, we could watch the sun disappear behind the faraway peaks & the sky grow a darker indigo. 

We began the trek down as the light began to slowly fade. The majority of our group continued back down the way we had come, but the boys, once again, began down the face of the rock, & this time, my brother’s fiancé went with them. Not wanting to be the weakest link of the group, I decided to follow.

Rule number one of hiking: If you don’t think you can hike up the trail, you surely can’t hike back down. You would think that the trek up would be harder, but in truth, it’s the downhill that causes the majority of injuries. It’s much easier to slip & fall down the face of the rocks, & then gravity does its job of pulling you down until you hit something hard enough to stop you, which means it’s also hard enough to hurt you. 

A quarter of the way down, I had realized my mistake. I was not wearing my hiking boots, I had zero rock climbing experience, & even more than that, I am afraid of heights. I like my feet on solid ground. Hiking is one of my favorite past times, & I have no problem hiking to high places, as long as my feet are firmly planted on the trail. But as soon as they inch a little too close to the drop, I start to shake. 

This time was no different. Paralyzed with fear, adrenaline rushing through me, limbs shaking from the exertion of holding up my own body, I was stuck between swallowing my fear & being a quick learner, or falling down the face of the rock.

Luckily, I had help with me. Joseph, my dad & my brother assisted me step-by-step, helping me see the places to stick my feet & hands & reassuring me that, despite my doubts, my arms were strong enough to hold me when my feet were sliding. Tears springing my eyes, face turning red from exertion & embarrassment as I felt the eyes of everyone in the group on me, I shakily made it to the bottom & collapsed in sobs when I did, both of relief & humiliation.

“I’m so proud of you,” Joseph told me. “You’re so brave.” I did not feel proud, nor did I feel brave. I felt flush with shame & weak from my cowardice.

The members of the group hugged me, & we all went to the car together. Each told me how proud they were of me for climbing down, a feat that a number of others had done without a problem. I gave a shaky smile to each, but all I felt was self-consciousness at best, mortification at worst. 

Just before climbing into our van, my dad stopped me & gave me a hug.

“I’m proud of you,” he told me. 

“I’m so embarrassed,” I said quietly. “Everyone else did it without a problem.”

“You’ve never done it before, & you faced your fear,” my dad said. “Almost no one faces their fears. You were afraid, but you did it anyway, & that makes you brave.”

We left the rock face & drove back to our Airbnb. The original plan was to hit the grocery store, but it was evident no one really felt like shopping & cooking. A few minutes away from the store, we spotted a roadside taco truck with a permanent concrete sign claiming its location & bearing its name: Baja Tacos. A quick check in with the other occupants of the car revealed this was everyone’s preferred choice, & we quickly spun around & drove to the stand.

Going to an unknown taco truck is always a risk, but in this case, it was a risk worth taking. The food was inexpensive, but in no means cheap. We watched the chef work tirelessly inside the truck as we put in our orders, & a few minutes later, they were handed to us fresh & hot with a plethora of homemade sauces on the side. I ordered the fish tacos with chipotle sauce, which were served with cabbage, pico de gallo & guacamole on a fried corn tortilla.

To say the food was delicious would be an understatement. The flavors melded together to create a symphony on my tongue. It was creamy & crunchy, spicy & tangy, every bite nuanced & just as exciting as the last. And the spice was perfect – the burn built up in the back of my throat & stung my lips as I ate. 

We ended the evening with a movie & then headed to bed, our skin sun-kissed goodnight by the desert. 

I fell asleep thinking about the day’s events & how it ended. When I was packing for Arizona, I certainly didn’t expect this to be one of the first adventures I experienced. I was thinking of family time & mimosas, not scrambling down the side of a rockface with an expectant audience.

I remembered what my dad had said about bravery, my husband telling me he was proud of me, for doing something that everyone else had done with ease. But then I remembered, not everyone had done it. A few of us, perhaps you would call us brave or maybe even call us stupid, ventured down the rock face. And the achievement was not even the moment we made it down the rock, but that moment we each took a deep breath at the top & decided we were going to attempt it.

We all have different fears in life. Some of them we seem to be born with, & others we are conditioned to from life experiences. Some we call logical fears, & others can’t be explained but terrify us all the same. We react sometimes with tremors & shakes, while other times we become paralyzed & rooted to the spot. What is important in either situation is whether our next step is forward or back. Sometimes we go forth kicking & screaming, while other times, we go forward quietly, tears in our eyes & shaking head to toe. But whether we succeed or fail, we tried, & that’s what matters. 

Climb your mountain, or in this case, stumble down into the valley. And if you are lucky enough to have a few loving voices by your side, listen to their words of comfort as you traverse around those dark & scary places where fear resides. It’s always much less scary in the dark when you have someone else by your side.