There’s an early morning chill in Scottsdale’s garden apartment district, and the streets are empty. I kneel in the middle of the road to snap a photo of one of the buildings. Rather than walking off the previous night’s guacamole, I keep stopping to admire the architecture. Palm trees tower over bungalow roofs, and squat cacti decorate the yards of the midcentury apartment blocks. I’ve heard that in the 1950s and ’60s the area was a destination for vacationers, so many of the motel-like buildings face inward on a small pool. Fanciful retro lettering proclaims each building’s name on its side: Fontainebleau, Lounge, Americana. The residential neighbourhood tickles with nostalgia.

Continuing on, I turn a corner and stop short. There, in front of the eggplant-and-olive Shalimar Sands complex, is an orange hot dog the size of a semitrailer. An eight-metre-long, three-metre-high hot dog on wheels, to be precise.

Yes, it’s the fabled Oscar Mayer Wienermobile.

I catch Kate Bennett and Amanda Vazquez—the two “Hotdoggers” in charge of the vehicle—just before they head off to start their day. They’re staying at the El Dorado hotel across the street, a low-slung midcentury-modern apartment building that’s been converted into a stylish hotel. Although in a hurry, they’re gracious enough to chat.

The Wienermobile tradition, they tell me, dates back to 1936, when the vehicles set out to promote Oscar Mayer. Theirs is one of six vehicles currently roaming the U.S., each staffed by recent college graduates. The pair drives around the Southwest handing out wiener-shaped whistles at state fairs, shopping malls, and charity events.

Bennett tells me they like to stay at the El Dorado when they pass through the area. “We try to find places that feel like home,” she says, explaining that their contract puts them on the road for a year, with home visits only for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter. “We love it here,” adds Vazquez. “It’s not like everything is matchy-matchy. There’s a kitchen, and it feels like an apartment.”

I reluctantly let the Hotdoggers drive off and then check out the hotel. Built in 1960 and restored in 2012, its rooms face a delightful kidney-shaped pool. Although thoroughly modern, the hotel feels timeless—a little oasis in the desert.

Scottsdale, I’m discovering, boasts a fair bit of retro charm. Located east of Phoenix, this Arizona city has long been a magnet for people who want to escape into the desert. The inhospitable landscape holds an odd appeal, and today, the restored midcentury architecture is an added attraction.

I’m staying at the Hotel Valley Ho, which is a 10-minute walk from the El Dorado near Old Town Scottsdale. The property is so storied that it merits its own historical tour, led by long-time Scottsdale resident Ace Bailey. Built in 1956, it was a playground for Hollywood stars, including Bing Crosby, Tony Curtis, Janet Leigh, and Zsa Zsa Gabor.

But over the years, Bailey says, the hotel fell into disrepair. In 2003, it was saved from demolition and restored. Architect Alan Hess has since called the Valley Ho one of the best-preserved midcentury hotels in the country.

“When you walk into the hotel, you’re just magically transported to another era,” marvels Bailey, and I have to agree. The attention to detail is impressive. When I was on hold with room service earlier that day, it took me a moment to register the Pink Panther theme song playing in my ear. The original arrowhead-motif concrete panels line the balcony railings, and Meyer lemon trees dot the grounds. The sprawling property boasts two very cool pools—one shaped like an exclamation mark, the other resembling an olive-studded martini when viewed from above.

Bailey explains that when the hotel first opened, it attracted the stars in part because it was so isolated—being located a whole eight miles from Phoenix. “The paparazzi wouldn’t follow them,” she says. “Eight miles? Back in the day, that meant pack a lunch.”

Scottsdale, she reminds us, was only incorporated as a city in 1951, with just 2,000 people living in a one-square-mile area. (Contrast that to the more than 100,000 people in Phoenix at the time.) The Valley Ho was the first hotel in Scottsdale to have central air conditioning, and therefore the first to open year-round. Since then, Scottsdale’s population has ballooned to over 217,000, with 4.3 million in the Greater Phoenix area, and it’s difficult to tell where Phoenix ends and Scottsdale begins.

Later that weekend, I get a better idea of what the area must have felt like midcentury when I visit Taliesin West in northeastern Scottsdale. The house was once architect Frank Lloyd Wright’s winter home and studio, and it blends seamlessly into the foothills of the McDowell Mountains. From 1937 to 1959, Wright and his apprentices built this “desert camp” using sand and rocks that blended with the environment. Facing the expanse of the Sonoran Desert, geometric lines lead the eye out while strategically placed windows draw the light in. The effect is starkly beautiful—just like the desert—and the interiors remain classic.

As a born-and-bred Vancouverite, I’m surprised by how much pull the desert landscape has for me. Perhaps it’s the wide-open spaces, or the ephemeral light. Or maybe it’s just that there’s more to the land than meets the eye. When I visit the Desert Botanical Garden the next day, I’m astounded by the variety of flora. It ranges from sturdy creosote plants to fuzzy Teddy Bear Cholla cacti to tall, stately saguaro cacti. The otherworldly shapes of Dale Chihuly’s glass art (on view until May 2014) imitate nature while providing a sharp contrast of riotous colour.

That night, I stay 25 kilometres north of Taliesin West, at the Four Seasons Resort Scottsdale at Troon North. The luxury hotel is the opposite of the trendy, minimalist Valley Ho, yet it offers the same sense of desert seclusion that the now-downtown Valley Ho once offered its celebrity guests.

The Four Seasons is far enough away from the city lights to see the stars—the celestial ones, that is. Every Friday, local astronomer Richard Allen holds complimentary stargazing nights for guests, setting up his high-powered telescope on the property and pointing out the highlights of the heavens.

The hotel is also situated within walking distance of the 60-hectare Pinnacle Peak Park, a popular spot for hiking, climbing, and horseback riding. When I tackle the winding 5.6-kilometre trail the next morning, the view gets better and better as I approach the 2,889-foot high point.

Pausing to take in the valley view, I squint at the poker-straight roads that cut across the desert.

Somewhere out there, a giant hot dog is roaming the dusty highway.

You can follow Carolyn Ali on Twitter @carolynali