"I live in an apartment and it's great to have a place she can run around at," says Corzilius. "The park is a god-send." We're sure Rev. Beecher would agree, Fred.
It shouldn't be surprising that the biggest and best dog park is located on the side of Tempe that has the fewest residents in swanky South Tempe, not the aptly named Sin City district near Arizona State University. We got lost trying to find it the first time, in part because the north-south Hardy Drive doesn't go through from Guadalupe to Elliot roads. The sports complex is so big, we were lost after we got there, too. We thought one of the fenced-in softball fields was the dog park until our old pooch started straining at her leash, pulling in the right direction.
Dogs will find plenty of room to roam here and we usually sit on top of one of the picnic tables to avoid the slobbery, though friendly, snouts that come our way. The grass was in perfect shape in early June, and gravel areas break up the open space and give the mutts something else to explore. Gates also divide the park's middle, but they're always propped open, a couple with a floppy brown Lab told us. When we were there on a weeknight at about 8 p.m. (it's open from 6 a.m. to 10 p.m.), the place was full of flouncing Fidos and their owners. Rosy went home exhausted.
Don't worry about a fishing license you're trespassing, anyway, so it won't do you much good should the boys in blue notice you. But a couple of poles, some worms or chicken liver, and a six-pack of Old Style provide a few hours of good times, right in the middle of this desert metropolis.
Multiply that vehicular impotence a hundredfold and you've got Sisters on the Fly, a clan of adventure-seeking chicks who la-la-la around the country, clogging up traffic arteries with their "cowgirl caravans" 20-plus flotillas of vintage, custom-painted Shastas, Alohas, Fireballs, and Airstreams.
The group was formed in 1998 by a couple of fly-fishing sisters who decided to bring some friends along on their next field trip. The concept caught on, and the Sisterhood now numbers about 630, with members ranging in age from 21 to 87, and a thriving Arizona chapter. The annual membership fee is $35, which gets you a personalized Sisters on the Fly vehicle sticker, a subscription to the group's newsletter, and a permanent black mark in the hearts of non-trailer drivers everywhere.
There's no fee for animal care, but donations are appreciated and graciously accepted. And don't be afraid if Kieran's eccentric mom greets you, even when she's dolled up in her cute and colorful curlers.