Day 10 Monument Valley & Cortez

Tranquility, that’s the best was to describe today.  On the cruise from Kayenta north, passing through Monument Valley, something caused reflection on the days and the journey.  It’s peaceful despite the wind noise.  The engine in a quiet purr somewhere behind.  And one can just feel the solitude, especially amoung these ancient monuments.  No movement, no sound, just quiet and it’s magnified when we stop along side the highway to listen.

Monument Valley covers a shorter span of distance than I remember.  In my youth and in my mind, it went on for miles, the last time here probably over 40 years ago.  The beauty remains constant.  The whole region of this Northern Arizona, Southern Utah is extraordinarily colorful.  Even the miles of open land are unusually green for this time of year.  A few miles of sage brush, the stuff that makes tumbleweeds, suddenly becomes broken terrain and chasms cut into the desert floor by thunderstorms.  Much of this land is invisible unless you slow down and observe it more closely.

A stop for gas in Mexican Hat gave a choice, a little county road twenty mile shortcut north to Natural Bridges National Monument, or follow the highway to the same destination about eighty miles.  The young lady at the gas station said, oh, it’s a great road but for three miles of gravel.  It took some mutual convincing to agree that we could handle three miles of gravel.  How bad could it be?  That three miles turned out to be breathtakingly, awsomely, out of this world inspiring – a gravel road.  How can this be?  Well....

About 10 miles into the shortcut, we see this massive wall of red stone approaching.  Easily 1000 feet tall, beautifully striated in brilliant crimson and lavenders in the morning sun, stretching from horizon to horizon, left to right.  I study this with a slightly worried feeling, looking for that little valley that surely must wind through this parapet.  None appears.  As we near this monstorous face a highway sign, yellow warning, in very large letters, tells of “unimproved road for the next three miles.  Anything towing anything is highly advised not to go further.  5mph switchbacks”.  They packed a lot of words, and a lot of meaning on that sigh.  We’re this far, and not towing anything.

The paved road, a simple two lane country road, runs straight into the cliff, makes a ninety degree turn requiring less than 5mph to navigate, and turns to dirt, and starts UP, a 10 ½ degree grade.  Holy Mackeral  But it’s smooth pack, only a little soft in spots, plenty wide for a car and a motorcycle to pass.  And it climbs, winds, climbs, switches back, climbs, twists, and climbs.  We stop half way up, less than two minutes into the ascent.  Breathtaking to say the least.  The valley floor stretches out for miles.  The road we just traversed is visible, every inch of it, tucked beneath us like a zig-zag rule against the face of the cliff.  I’m so glad we took the challenge.  A short few minutes later we’re on the top and it’s wide open praries and cool air again.  What an incredible treat.  Sadly, very little opportunity for photos – one turnout.  Highway 261.

Onward to Natural Bridges National Monument.  As I mentioned earlier, driving across this land often reveals nothing.  Flat terrain where nothing could exist.  But this place is stunning, below ground.  The land eroded away, left in three durable places, bridges of stone, huge bridges.  The nine mile loop around the park was liesurely and fun, affording great views and hikes to the bridges.

A gas stop in Blanding, an intended nights stay but too early to stop, brought us through Four Corners, the common meeting point of Arizona, Utah, Colorado and New Mexico.  Hmmm, I thought it was some kind of Federal land, a national monument or some such.  It belongs to the Navajo Nation.  And what a transformation for me.  I stopped there for gas in 1964, fresh out of college and headed for Scottsdale, Az.  No gas, no nothing but a concrete slab with a survey marker.  About 1970 Nancy and I visited it.  on the way home from our honeymoon I believe, and by then the Natives had erected cheap wooded sales booths and were selling their wares.  Here in 2012, it’s had a major face lift, two years ago according to a Navajo fellow I talked with.  Permanent sales booths in concrete and stone, a village of sorts, very well done, a landscaped arena that you see in the photo.  A small three dollar parking fee.  Worth the stop but you have to watch for the unobtrusive wooden sign on the highway, not a government style marker.

Cortez, a bustling town with lots of gas, food and lodging.  Mission accomplished number four, I called cousin Beth living in nearby Mancos and she drove over for dinner.  First time together in about 50 years.  We had a grand time over a great Chinese dinner learning about archeology, sheep and lots of things.    Saying goodbye for now was a new opportunity to stay in touch with our great internet tools.

I've been remiss to mention that traveling with brother Dick has been a joy.  We share common values about speed, safety, easy living, food and lodging.  We talk, enjoy each other's company, and know how to enjoy nature together in silence.  Thanks for the journey, Dick.

Tomorrow, Mesa Verde.