Adventures from Arizona to Alberta
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Navajo nation
It was time. Two and a half years had passed since we traveled to our home away from home in the Canadian Rockies. With Covid running rampant and borders closed, everyone lived in isolation. Traveling was a risk, not an entitlement. So Dave and I (along with millions of others) buckled down and made the most of it. However, when the border opened last fall, there was no question about where we would spend our next summer.
The icing on the cake. That was the best description I could think of to describe our visit to Antelope Canyon X after our Wave adventure. How about a slot canyon tour that is not crowded, rushed, and allows plenty of time to absorb your surroundings? Bingo.
Lost in space. That best describes how one feels in Monument Valley. It took us less than two hours to travel from Canyon de Chelley’s deep canyons to Monument Valley’s buttes and spires. John Wayne country, indeed. From memories of Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote, to The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, we felt as though we were entering a giant movie set. Amazing.
Artist’s Point
Monument Valley is really not a valley. It is a flat, that’s interrupted by towering formations formed though the endless erosion by water, wind and ice. Did I just mention wind? The day we visited, was really windy, with gusts clocking in at 30-40 mph.
The best way to see the area is to drive the 17-mile dirt road that loops around Rain God Mesa. A four-wheel drive is recommended, but Steve took the challenge (and won) with his SUV. There were no crowds or lines. Just wind. My understanding is that this road gets quite backed-up in the spring (a sea of cars) and that flash floods can occur from June-August. We really got lucky with our weather, as the offseason is often unpredictable.
A glimpse of Valley Road.
While pelted by sand, we captured the Three Sisters monument
The color and light was in Monument Valley is something to behold. Strong winds kicked up a lot of sand, creating a painterly effect on many of the photos we took. No enhancements needed. We stopped along the many pull-outs to take photos and marveled at the vast beauty of the Navajo nation.
John Ford’s Point
Stagecoach, 1939
John Ford’s Point is a well-known and aptly named. He used this particular location in many of his films. Post adventure, Dave and I watched Stagecoach, where Ford used the iconic vista at the beginning and the end of the film. To us, there was a bit of an issue with that decision. The stagecoach was making the journey from Tanto, Arizona to Lordsburg, New Mexico. Seems like they didn’t make much progress. Just saying…
Late afternoon view from Lee Cly Trail
Click, click, click. The sunrise view from everyone’s balcony.
The drive took up most of the afternoon. Our evening was spent dining on more frybread at The View motel. We awoke to a spectacular sunrise, courtesy of our room’s balcony. What a view! The steady click of cameras made it abundantly clear that we were not alone in this endeavor.
Early morning view from Wild Cat Trail.
Before departing, Julie suggested a quick hike along the Wild Cat Trail that ambles towards Mitten Butte. It was chilly, but also crisp, clear and blessedly still. The sand along the trail was pristine, and untouched, like the beach of an ocean, just washed by the tide.
The sands of time.
By 3pm, we were back in Phoenix. All of us felt strangely disoriented, as if we had been gone for much longer than two days. In hindsight, I’m thinking that our adventure was a great form of time travel, simplified.
A time machine. That’s what it was. Imagine driving for four hours and finding yourself in world of canyons and mesas. Looking down one day and up the next. And, by the end of the two-day adventure feeling like you have been gone a very, very long time.
Peering down into the one of several canyons
We left early on a Friday with our good friends Steve and Julie, and arrived in Flagstaff shortly after sunrise. It was a crisp and clear November day, the kind tourists dream about. After driving for what seemed forever through desolate reservation land, we reached our first destination. Just past the town of Chinle, is Canyon de Chelley, an Arizona National monument and part of the Navajo Nation. The land’s rich history spans close to 5,000 years, from the early Anasazi dwellers to the Navajo families that still live there today.
Steve, Julie and Judy taking in the sights.
Navajo farm deep in the canyon.
Ahhh, the benefits of visiting off-season. No crowds. Plus, we got lucky with the weather. That afternoon was spent peering into giant crevasses at ancient ruins, tidy farms, and geological wonders. Deep canyons cut by streams from the headwaters of the Chuska River.
Antelope House Ruins
Hiking White House Ruin trail provided us with a chance to look up and experience how it must have felt to live within the steep canyon walls.
White House trail, Canyon de Chelley.
White House Ruins, Canyon de Chelley
Pictograph, White House Ruins.
That evening, we stayed at Thunderbird Lodge—the only accommodation located within the park’s boundaries. It’s cafeteria is located in the trading post’s original building. We dined on posole, chile verde, and Navajo burgers. That’s where Julie and I discovered how much we really, really liked fry bread. Satiated, we turned in, looking forward to the next day’s adventure in John Wayne (or Buster Scruggs) country.
