My husband and I have a secret place. It's east of Tucson, Ariz. That's all I can say.

I may already have said too much.

I'd love to tell you about it — its scenic heights and its riverbed lows, its bevies of birds and stretches of stars, and the particular feature that could give it away, so I can only assure you that it's heavenly.

My need for secrecy walks a tightrope between keeping the place well-known enough to remain a going concern, yet not so popular that we can't get a reservation.

As it is, when we were taking our leave from this year's visit, we had to book into 2017.

This, in a place that has no phones, no Wi-Fi, no cell service, no TV — and you have to bring your own food for your stay. All of this is what makes it so appealing to a certain sort of visitor.

I simply cannot take the chance that you're that sort of visitor. I wouldn't want you to nab my space.

Now reassured that business is good, my husband and I realize that part of the lure is that it has become our secret place. It's a private joke, a shared glance, a fount of memories that only the two of us remember.

We've come close to spilling the beans, of course, feeling a little selfish about keeping this destination all to ourselves. But in the realm of this particular, off-the-beaten-path vacation destination, selfish works for us.

Besides, it's good to know that you're married to someone who can keep your secrets.

Kim Ode • 612-673-7185

Travel editor Kerri Westenberg is away at her own secret getaway. Send your questions and tips to her at travel@startribune.com. Follow her on Twitter @kerriwestenberg.