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.

Day 10, Page and Antelope Canyon

Morning took us along the South Rim (scroll down for yesterday's introduction to the Grand Canyon) headed to the East entrance.  With a  dawn departure, we reached a new vista about the time the sun was making it’s imprint on the canyon.  Morning colors, so different from evening colors.  Again, magic, timeless, mystical.

Page was a required stop for two reasons, to see the new bridge at Glen Canyon Dam and to visit Antelope Canyon.  The bridge is wonderful.  But somehow, despite the engineering accomplishments of its makers, it left me a little disappointed.  I think I was confusing it with the bridge at Hoover Dam.  But it was spectacular non-the-less.  The dam is as I remember it from days of youth.  Older, like me, but grand and functional, the dam, that is.

A little East of town the Navajo people take you on a jeep ride to Antelop Canyon, a slot canyon as it is called. Thanks very much to friend Lloyd for mentioning it at the last minute before my departure.  Truly a must see if you’re in Page.  The land belongs to the Navajo, so admittance is only through their graces.  A forty dollar fee, it was worth every penny.  We joined 13 other people on the back of a ¾ ton truck, with ample shade and large sand capable tires.  It’s a 20 minute drive to the slot canyon over a wide and sandy wash that does require 4wd with desert tires to traverse.

The tour lasts an hour, slowly walking through this canyon, shoulder’s touching walls in places.  Despite the crowds in this very popular place, the beauty was overwhelming.  The Navajo guides, each the driver of your truck, did expert jobs of containing people in small groups so the photo opportujnities were ample.  After a while you think, how many more rock walls do I need to photograph.  And sadly I’ll admit that reviewing the results in a hotel room tonight, I could have used more photos.  It takes a hundred photos, as many of you kknow, to get a really spectacular one or two.  But I‘m happy with the results, and more so with the memory.

Tomorrow we traverse Monument Valley, and a number of the Southwest’s wonders.

Day 9, Grand Canyon

No greater place on Earth, the Grand Canyon, at least in my humble opinion.  It's one of the few natural wonders of the world you can see from space.  The museum tells us it's very old material shaped in very modern times.  Formed initially but the collision of continental plates, layers were then added by the seas that invaded the area for millions of years. Layers of sediment in many different forms were deposited, reflecting teh vegetation and animals life of the time.  And the carving occurred through major floods, oceans of water cascading out of the land over the milenium.  And the Colorado River today continues to put finishing touches on the landscape.  One can easily image snow sitting on all the sloping surfaces of the upper canyon walls, melting and causing millions of tiny rivulets, each carrying a few grains of sand towards the canyon bottom, to be carried further away by the river.

It’s the most fascinating place.  Many of you have seen it.  You know that the lighting is different every day, and every mnute of each day.  And each configure of light, of sun and shadow and clouds, causes, each in turn, a unique view of the grand wonder.

We sat for an hour on the rim, just absorbing the grandeur in silence.  After Labor Day crowds week minimal.  At a few viewpoints I felt that this was my own park.  We had the wonderful opportunity after dinner to sit on the rim near Grand Canyon Village with a few dozen admirers of the canyon, watching the sun go down.  This time the Canyon did not flood with light. There was more activity in the clouds nearby, but it was still a special evening, sunset on the Grand Canyon.

A treat of Elk on the roadsides and later in the evening, walking on the terrace in front of our cottage.  It was a special day and I shall treasure it long after this trip is over.

And we end this chapter with a couple of human interest shots.

Day 8, Flagstaff

What a fantastic day, cool leaving Payson, just perfect with the leather jacket.  Northward through the cute little town of Pine, and millions of Pine trees that I was missing on arrival yesterday.  We swung West, bent on Sedona.  Hitting the freeway from Phoenix to Flag, here’s Montezuma’s Castle National Monument.  It wasn’t on my list, so we hit a bonus.  A tour of the museum and the quarter mile walk past the structure was SO worth the time.  A reintroduction to the native Americans as we journey deeper into their country.   They were Navajo, but the early explorers thought everyone out west were Aztecs, so they named this place inappropriately.  The Zuni, Hopi and many tribes visited the area,  .  Astounding structure and even more amazing some of the technical aspects.

The drive across from Pine was done on a 65 speed limit county road where we never topped 50, sometimes 40.  What a fantastic piece of country, especially on a motorcycle.  The smell of pine in the air, the clear air and uncluttered countryside.  And old billboard sign, still in great shape, Smokey the Bear, reminded me of my own childhood, growing up for many summers as a Ranger's kid on Isle Royale National Park.  Sweeping down off the mesa from the tall pines brought up Prickly Pear and many desert plants again, consistent with the elevation.  Little villages like Camp Verde, clinging to existence in this vast and sometimes harsh, but always beautiful land.

Heading on North off the freeway brings one to the Red Rock Country.  We must have stopped at every viewpoint, the totally overwhelming panorama of nature’s carvings in sandstone, spread for miles across the landscape.  The panorama's are enormous.  A camera can't begin to do this country justice.  You have to see it on the back of a motorcycle

Approaching civilization brought us to the Chapel of the Holy Cross.  A stunning architecture with a commanding view of the valley from up on the hillside.  On the way up, you could not help notice this Spanish architecture building, opulent in every way behind secure walls that did afford a view.  A local lady at the chapel said that belonged to the doctor who invented lasik surgery.  Hmmm, does he get royalties on all those procedures?  The view from the church, considering the location in Sedona, had to place that in a $10 million range.

The scenery around Sedona is stunning, spectacular, and breathtaking.  The fact that it all obviously belongs to wealthy people gave us no pause to linger.  Heading out of town North, the speed drops for the winding, twisting roads and the steep ascent up Oak Creek Canyon.  Switchbacks at 15 mph, scraping foot pegs on the steep turns!  What a great ride.

The smells you experience on a motorcycle are so much in tune with the landscape.  From the smell of rain when it first hits the desert floor, to the plants in the different regions, the pine trees, the fragrant smell of the Creosote bush.  A whole adventure in itself.

Driving through Flagstaff, looking for the hotel, on Route 66.  Big sign, “I-10, Rt 66, Los Angeles”.  WHAT – I just left there, or so it seems.

Tonight, 2218 miles so far.  Tomorrow, the Grand Canyon. On the way out we’ll travel Route 66, Some of the original route, right in front of our Super8 tonight, and some of the new.

Day 7, Payson, Arizona

Resisting all temptation to leave Safford at the crack of dawn, a leisurely breakfast of the usual Days Inn health food found us westward bound at 7:00am.  Payson is an easy drive west to Globe and North.  Desert all the way, prolific with Saguaro cactus.  Ten years of living in Arizona after college made me appreciate the beauty of this desert.  I love those big sentinels of the desert.  In some place they grow thick like weeds and in other places, sparsely dot the landscape.  With all the character of humans, they come short and tall, single pole and numerous arms.  Did you know their average life span is over 150 years?

The route North follows Roosevelt Lake, a huge reservoir at the upper end of the chain of dams that contain the Salt River.  I’ve been to the dam many times in the past, following a winding and incredibly narrow dirt road all the way up the canyons from Phoenix.  This photo was take from a precarious viewpoint just before arriving at the dam along that road.  Fortunately this time we followed paved roads from Globe.

Arriving in Payson was a surprise.  The not so great kind of “going back home” feeling you get.  I was not a kid when I visited here, many times in the last 1960’s.  I should have a better memory.  I remember tall Pinion Pine trees and an almost Ponderosa Ranch atmosphere.  I think they must have cut all the trees and replaced them with the Chaparral probably native to this region.  It IS cooler than the desert, perhaps fifteen degrees and it feels great.  The short ride today took about four hours, driving slow, 55ish, Letting the truckers past, and stopping frequently to appreciate the beauty of this desert.

We’re headed for the Grand Canyon.  Tomorrow will be spent n Flagstaff with a trip through Sedona.  The Grand Canyon is two days away, and I'm as excited as a kid to see it again.  It's been decades.

Happy Trails.

Day 6, Safford

Well folks, it's the last day in transit, moving from home base in Gaston, to Safford, Arizona.  And mission accomplished.  My motivation for this trip, for several years, has been to revisit Safford and specifically my parents final resting place.  It was a worthwhile trip for that purpose and I'm very glad I came.  Spent many happy Christmas times with both parents here, and with mom after dad left us in 1980.



On the way, another great family experience.  Reconnecting very late in life with cousins from Colorado, I found Janet at her mom's funeral a couple years ago.  I spent a wonderful morning in Tucson with her and her two lovable black cats..  She's an archaeologist and her work is very fascinating to me.  So we talked family and bones and pipelines and freeways.  You'll have to figure that out or ask me more some time.

Went to dinner at a place mom liked, although they have so overhauled it that it's not the same.  But it was nice atmosphere, a tough steak, and a great evening with brother Dick.  Oh, yes, that's the second part of this mission.  He came from San Antonio two days ago.  We arrived together and phase two, the Great Southwest tour, starts tomorrow.  So we've been talking and driving around town - and - getting drenched in a thunderstorm.

 It was forecast.  It's so comfortable and isolated in the restaurant that the thunderstorm raging outside was noticed only by Little Joe.  He did need a bath.  I suggested we wait it out.  Dick said "We won't melt".  So off we went.  Fortunately it was just across the street :)  And I think I sweat more on the drive over from Yuma.  The rain felt great.  Stood out in it for a few minutes just to cool off.

Tomorrow, off to Payson, AZ.  Chapter two, day one.

Day 4-5, Friends

Day 4 - San Diego Friendships.

High speed transit via California freeways.  Wish I could say it was better than a Disneyland ride, but you all now freeways.  A great way to get someplace fast, usually.  A nice evening in Camarillo and a ahort ride to San Diego, but not a fast one.  First, 101 blends into I 405 and to I-5, FIVE lanes headed South all the Stay tuned.way from LA to San Diego.  It was a surprise to find myself about 6 different times with both feet on the pavement waiting for traffic to move.  Despite the intensity,  a noon arrival was nearly on schedule, a sweeping, beautifully landscaped drive down into La Jolla Village.

I met grade and high school classmate Mary at her apartment, a reunion last occuring six years ago.  We’re fortunate to have seen each other a few times since graduation in 1960. We had the best time in the world.  From noon, through a lunch, drive around town and dinner, We toured “The Cross”, a beautiful monument to the origins of San Diego and it’s rich religious birth by the early missionaries.   Very sadly there’s an extremist group fighting religion in the area with the desire to tear the cross down.  Fortunately, intelligent people have been able to hold them at bay for many years, but it’s a constant threat.  The Cross has also become a memorial to our service men and women.  Absoultely stunning photographs and tributes to thousands of people from all branches of service form an intricate, and emotional twisting set of walls that add to the value of the monument.

I had the unusual pleasure over lunch, of meeting a friend of Mary’s who was a commander on a Polaris submarine.  You have to know me to know my passion for this iron undersea boats.  It was a memorable experience to talk with Denis for even a few moments, express my gratitude to him for what all people in the service do for our freedom AND find his photograph and awards on the wall at the Cross.  So this Cross is a tribute to both the living and the past.  It brings tears, my friends.

A cute Thai restaurant a short few blocks walk in a perfect Southern California evening was a great place to continue the memory lane journey.  I couldn’t believe it when midnight rolled around  Old friendships are wonderful.  Thank you, Mary, for the most wonderful time.

Day 5, The Sonoran Desert

Leaving La Jolla at 8am left me wondering for two hours whether to go all the way to Tucson or stop in Yuma, Arizona.  Threatening thunderstorms across the southern Sonoran Deserty, the weather was a heavy cloud deck deck and cool.  Perfect for nine hour drive to Tucson.  But the skies cleared and the temperatures soared.  It became a no brainer.  From Yuma itwould be over four more hours in 105 temps.  Not for this Oregon ranch hand.  The motel this afternoon feels so good.  An early start tomorrow when it’s cool will put me in Tucson for a late breakfast with cousin Janey..

So, not overly exciting for you all, but in a couple of days the transit adventure ebds and the Souhwest scenic adventure begins.  Brother Dick left San Antonio today and is in El Paso tonight.  We’re about equi-distant and should arrive at meeting point Safford abut the same time tomorrow afternoon.