Getting Away

The Simple Life
Once upon a time, the Junipine resort might have been called a rustic getaway — and rightly so. Twelve cabins and an apple orchard perched on the edge of Oak Creek Canyon offered a secluded hideaway, rushing water, wild terrain, bare amenities and all the apples you could carry.

Fast forward 80 years and two rows of condos stand in the stead of the original cabins, appearing admirably woodsy and natural nestled into the canyon underbrush.

The stage is still secluded, a full nine miles outside of Sedona proper and yet another 18 to Flagstaff, the terrain still wild and beautiful.

But step through one of the massive knotty pine doorframes and “rustic” morphs from a caption for simple living to earth tone chic decorating nomenclature (as in, “Wouldn’t the rustic stone tiles accent the wooden vaulted ceiling beams beautifully?”).


Where the original cabins lacked simple indoor plumbing, the toilet paper in their modern-day counterparts is fanned into origami art, and the fully-equipped gourmet kitchen might tempt an amateur leisure seeker into actually cooking. 


Each of the 50 condos at Junipine resort is independently owned and decorated so, barring minimum standards, the décor and upgrades vary according to owner taste and budget. I was lucky enough to stay in a unit whose owner seemed to be high stocked in both.

Generally, my preferences don’t list towards antler art and bearskin rugs. However, Junipine is about liaising with nature so I accepted the rough-hewn doorjambs and the rafting grizzly bears figurine on the café table as part of the package, especially as they came coupled with a huge stone spa shower, multiple skylights and a spacious loft bedroom exclusive to the corner units.

A simple restaurant located near the lobby serves breakfast, lunch and dinner to visitors who don’t bring groceries to stock their kitchens. Guests can also borrow DVDs and videos from the resort’s movie library.

Spring days at Junipine are painted in foliage-filtered sunlight and wrapped in breezy moderate temperatures. Just behind the north end of the resort, a hiking trail picks up across a rickety bridge and twines along Oak Creek.

On the morning of my stay, I slipped onto the secluded deck of my borrowed corner unit. A cup of chamomile tea sandwiched between my palms helped ward away the hazy chill that hung in the air. From certain angles I could see the pristine snow that still blanketed the highest of the visible peaks, and below, the gentle thrushing of the creek seemed to grow stronger in the stillness.

I spotted an oversized squirrel with huge jackalope ears zigzagging up the ravine, dragging a buoyant silver tail in his wake and followed his progress until he disappeared from my eye line. A moment later he popped up on the deck, regarding me with his tail hovering above him. He covered half of the distance between us before thinking better of it and scampering off the deck as quickly as he had appeared.

“How perfectly quaint,” I took a moment to think before ducking away myself, back through the glass arcadia doors to iron my top, nuke my lukewarm tea and head down to the lobby to return last night’s DVDs.