To Some, a Scottsdale Canal; To Others, the Riviera

Jaimee Rose
The Arizona Republic
Feb. 26, 2008
In the Valley, our desperation for oceanfront property has reached a new level entirely. Yes, we worship the swimming pool and consider Rocky Point our own. But who could have imagined that a lowly canal could draw such devotion?
In Scottsdale, a section of the mud-colored Arizona Canal has morphed into Destination: Glamazon. Million-dollar “waterfront” penthouses overlook it. Ritzy boutiques line its banks. During the Super Bowl, ESPN broadcasters hunkered down nearby, and reporters used the water as a glistening backdrop.
It even has its own posh namesake restaurant, Canal, where you can dine on a $30 lobster sandwich while overlooking a large irrigation ditch and pretend you’re feeling an ocean breeze. Isn’t it romantic?
Water holds a magical power over humanity: We search it out, move nearby and cling to it on vacation. Cities lucky enough to be so blessed define themselves by their water features - think Lake Michigan in Chicago or Pittsburgh’s Three Rivers Park.
In the Valley, our river runs dry, so we’ve hopefully and happily been seduced by the next best thing.
This represents an image makeover of considerable heft, a Billy Ray Cyrus kind of comeback. For years, the Valley’s canals were unsavory swathes feared by mothers, full of murk, goo and the ungodly.
“The canals really were kind of looked upon as liquid alleys,” said Jim Duncan, a senior analyst with the Salt River Project, which manages the canals.
Things pulled from the water: rusted-out appliances, expired animals, a few safes, a Corvette, and many, many guns, according to SRP. And, of course, the floating bodies discovered by joggers a couple of times each year.

