A Nomad in the U.S.A. – Part 3 – Monument Valley
Richard and travel-buddy, Dao, have embarked on a road trip of the American Southwest in a second-hand Toyota (named “Betsy”) Richard had picked up in Los Angeles. Up until now, they have visited parts of Southern California, stayed a few days in Prescott, Arizona, before arriving at their first non city destination: the Indian ruins of Wupatki.
The Wupatki ruins, pueblo, though historically significant and visually pretty damn cool with its red flat stone dwellings and glimpse of Sinagua living, consumed only an hour or so of our time. So from there we cruised eastwardly to take in the famed Petrified Forest (because no road trip is complete without a visit to a desert location that has the largest accumulation of fallen tree trunks turned to stone). And as remarkable as it was, we knew we had many miles to go that day and we’d better jam soon if we were to get to the Hubbell Trading Post (the oldest continuously operating trading post on the NavajoNation) in the town of Holbrook—to buy some jam before closing. Unfortunately, since the Navajo Nation clock is set back an hour ahead (go figure) we pulled up there just in time for the last counter clerk to remind us that we had only ten minutes before they boarded shut the door. Old counters with glass casing offered up staples like tobacco, canned meat and crackers (but, no jam. It was sold-out for the day.) Animal skins and wool clothing was available next to old muskets and tourist souvenirs. The potbelly stove in the center of the store looked perfectly in place.
Now that the day was closing fast, I thought it would be a good idea to check for emails via my mobile phone. I knew that I might need to factor in some work time before dinner. But, no signal—damn. However, that was not a problem; we’d be spending our first night at a hotel which was, not only really special, but had Internet.
The La Posada Hotel is a destination in itself. It was the crown jewel of the old Fred Harvey railway inns—located in Winslow, Arizona. (Yup, the very one immortalized in the old Eagles song: “Take it Easy.”) La Posada was designed by Mary Elizabeth Jane Colter, who is considered the first great female American architect. Even if you decide to stay someplace else there along old Route 66 in Winslow, one has to tour the historic hotel that was only recently renovated to its original splendor. The rooms are like visiting a museum—but far more comfortable. The place has its own depot, gardens, libraries and cozy verandas to watch trains go by from. And since our room (the “manager’s suite”) was so close to the lobby, I was able to get a very strong Internet signal. (Several clients had some minor website updates for me to make, which I concluded before we headed over to the hotel’s restaurant for the best meal of the trip. Oh, how I like working from places like this!) BTW: the restaurant in La Posada, The Turquoise Room, is considered one of the best restaurants in the USA. (Try the stuffed squash blossoms.)
The next morning we breakfasted in our room to save both money and time. (We had packed a whole bunch of fruit, vegetables and whatnot to eat before leaving Prescott—to save us money. Plus, road food can be both bad and expensive in these parts. And forget about finding decent fruit in places that we were heading to.) Anyway, Betsy (the car) would, soon take us out of Winslow northward and to the Painted Desert.
The Painted Desert gets its name from bands of red, white and yellow sediments and clay of the Chinle rock formation that have been exposed by erosion. (Yup, I gleaned that description from the Internet.) The Painted Desert is the sort of place that is humbling beyond words: though it makes one feel very small and insignificant, it makes you appreciate life. There we had a picnic lunch before road-tripping over to another Fred Harvey/Mary Colter landmark, the Painted Desert Inn, which is now only a National Park site and museum.
As we continued northward within the Navajo Nation, we arrived at the entry point to Canyon de Chelly (pronounced: “de shé) National Monument. However having gotten there just before sundown, we could not view the canyon until the morning—plus we were too late to score an accommodation within any of the three available inns in that area. (I would have called in for a reservation, but not having a mobile phone signal that day meant that we had to just wing-it this time.) Fortunately, Canyon de Chelly has a very well kept—and more importantly, free—campground at the very entry point to the site. We had brought with us a couple of sleeping bags and a tent in case of such an instance. So, we enjoyed another picnic meal before sleeping outdoors for the night. (Note: the only mobile phone service here is through the Navajo Nation’s service.)
The next morning we got up early and headed to the Holiday Inn restaurant so my friend could see, for herself, what an authentic American buffet breakfast was—that, and so I could avail myself to their free Wi-Fi. There I checked my emails (did some work rather hurriedly) as well as make a room reservation for the night. And before the tour operators could herd their groups into buses, we bolted on over to Canyon de Chelly.
What an amazing place this site is. One starts off looking down into canyons from one of many scenic overlooks off the narrow road above, to eventually have the opportunity to hike down from the South Rim Drive. This lesser-known canyon is not as immediately spectacular as, let’s say the Grand Canyon, but it does have sheer sandstone walls rising up to 1,000 feet, a couple of well-preserved Anasazi ruins (White House Ruin is the best known and preserved) and an insight into the present day life of the Navajo who still inhabit and cultivate the valley floor. One could easily spend a day or two here alone, but our rather tight schedule reminded us to hit the road by early afternoon.
Being relatively close to the Utah border, Dao suggested (strenuously, I might add) that we check out Monument Valley National Park. Since she had grown up watching old westerns (mostly John Ford films) on French television with her father, many of which were filmed in Monument Valley, it was more than just a good idea. About a hundred extremely scenic miles further north we arrived in the town of Kayenta, which is where one stays the night before driving the last 30 miles to Monument Valley. (There’s nothing to do in Kayenta but sleep.) However, since we wanted to see the valley during sunset, considered the best viewing time, we used the extra hour to visit the windswept settlement of Goulding’s. This place boasts the oldest outpost and inn for that vast area. It’s a funky little tourist draw, but worth a detour should you find yourself near the Four Corners area. As for Monument Valley itself—well, what could one say that hasn’t already been seen hundreds of times in photographs? It’s awesome. It’s huge. And though there are daily jeep and self-guided tours available for getting into the canyon (for those who want to see their monuments really close up), we opted to enjoy the sunset and scenery from the vantage point of the View Inn’s veranda where we sipped hot tea until it got dark. Afterwards, we returned to our budget motel room in Kayenta to munch down the last of our road food, reply to emails (it seems that nearly all hotel and motel rooms now have free Wi-Fi, even in the more remote places) and plan out next leg of our road trip: The Grand Canyon.
(End of Part 3. More on this road trip to come. View images of the Road Trip)
