Here's a short list of things that tourists think of when they think of Phoenix: Saguaros. Coyotes with neckerchiefs. Scottsdale resorts. Golf. We don't have the data to support this, but we figure that the latter -- and by extension, the tourism derived from it -- ranks a close second to desert-devouring development as the Valley's biggest cash cow.
But here's the rub: Our heifer don't produce much milk money for half the year, 'cause not even the most fanatical duffer wants to be transformed into a lurching mummy by the heat. We know of chintzy types who've come in the off-season to take advantage of the fire-sale prices at resorts and courses, only to find themselves clutching their hearts in the high grass. Gives a whole new meaning to the term "hitting the links."
However, those with severe withdrawal pains can get their fix at Night Flight Golf. The course is lined with glowing lights, and each golfer receives a glow necklace and fluorescent ball -- the better not to brain the other players.