I remember walking along the canal banks as a kid. There was always something interesting floating by like parts of cars, pieces of furniture and the occasional bloated dead cat. I gotta think the City of Scottsdale has someone watching out for that along this stretch of the canal. It is nice to see part of the old canal system polished up so nicely. 
http://www.azcentral.com/arizonarepu...canal0215.html
To some, a Scottsdale canal; to others, the Riviera
Jaimee Rose
The Arizona Republic
Feb. 26, 2008 12:00 AM
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? advertisement
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.
Making an oasis
Most of the Valley's canal system remains unglamorous, but the magic little stretch of water between Goldwater Boulevard and Scottsdale Road, flanked by $700 million in development, the Waterfront shops and condos on one side and the newly opened Southbridge boutiques and restaurants on the other, has received a plastic surgery worthy of Scottsdale's preened reputation. It was due for a face lift: The Arizona Canal dates to 1883.
The canal walls were slimmed down, taken from trapezoids to smooth vertical surfaces. The water level was pumped up, and the banks were manicured, plucked and primped. Picture curving pink sidewalks, golf-course-worthy lawns, and desert plants spaced out on an invisible grid. There's even a fountain.
Schools of white amur fish dart below the canal's surface, keeping the algae level low and the water as clear as, well, a latte, at least. But in all those architectural artistic renderings of the canal, trotted out at sales appointments and official presentations, the water is a Caribbean-colored turquoise blue. This part of the vision remains apparently evasive.
"I think what (Scottsdale) did was make lemonade out of a lemon," Karen Carney, 60, of Scottsdale, said as she shopped and sipped coffee at the Waterfront this week. "A canal can be a yucky-uck dirty thing, and they turned it into something good."
An ugly past
Branding expert Larry Vincent said the secret to changing perceptions, such as making a boring name like Ralph into a brand like Ralph Lauren, or an irrigation ditch into something coastal and chic, is to create something so lovely that everyone forgets what was there before.
"It all depends on the experience," said Vincent, of the Siegel+Gale branding company in Los Angeles.
When buying $890 designer shoes at the Glass Slipper in the Waterfront, it's hard to remember the Christmas-tree lot and car dealership that once occupied that corner. When strolling along the water, stopping off for a treat from the cupcake window in the Mix Shops, who cares what's in the water?
Have drinks on the patio at the Estate House, which opened Friday, and thoughts of the Hohokam Indians and their pioneering canals are nil.
It's easy to pretend you're in Italy, instead: Water trickles by, potted Meyer lemon trees keep you company, and the party stretches from restaurant to restaurant all along the canal's banks.
"It's hard to remember how bad it did look," said Debi Bridges of Bridges Media Group, which represents the Southbridge development. "For the longest time, it was ugly, and now it's beautiful."
Already, Arizonans are clamoring for outdoor tables along the canal as if they were supping along Mission Beach.
The patio at Olive & Ivy is full (anointed by locals as the "Scottsdale Yacht Club"), and even former President Clinton dined at Canal on a recent visit.
For years, Southbridge developer Fred Unger has had his eyes on this canal. He dreamed of Venice and gondolas, but the city settled on this, instead.
"Some people don't think it's as pretty and romantic as a river," Unger said. "But it's what we have. It's ours. And the lights do glimmer on it at night."
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