Epic.

Running out of superlatives here (but have still got “awesome” up my sleeve

We love this wide open countryside and I can’t really get a grip of how enormous this land is.  How far away are those distant hills?  When we look at our route and see “left turn in 39 miles”, that’s like saying “turn left at Bristol”…

This was scrubby desert once more, with little sign of habitation here in northern Arizona.  Actually, it’s hard to know what people would do for a living here – it’s not exactly the most hospitable landscape, nor is it productive, it seems.

Fredonia was the first community we came to on our journey today, right on the border with Utah.  That huge butte is a great landmark, isn’t it?

No sooner were we into Utah, than the rock formations started getting interesting.  Yet more different characteristics in the sandstone, here the layers were curved and wave-like.

The surface textures were beautiful, fine layers etched into the rock face with green vegetation setting off the creamy colour well.

By the time we were arriving in Zion National Park the oohs and aaahs were on both sides of the road and the two of us who were not driving the car were finding it hard to know on which side to look.  These monumental rock faces were full of character and every turn in the road revealed a new and different one.

Having booked rooms at the Lodge, we had the privilege of driving right down into the canyon and the nearer we got, the more we were looking forward to getting out there and seeing it all up close.

But by now it was 109F!  Not the best weather to be exploring a rocky canyon, but the shuttle bus made it easy and of course, the buildings were air conditioned, too.

Here, at the Court of the Patriarchs, those three peaks (Abraham, Isaac and Jacob) towered over us as we hopped off the bus for fifteen minutes or so, to take photographs and simply take it all in.  In no time, we were getting back on the next shuttle and travelling further into the canyon.  The efficient service made seeing all the best bits incredibly easy in spite of the soaring temperature.

Of course, as ever, getting the scale of these rock faces was difficult.

I took a picture of this arch from the bus stop, thinking it didn’t look that huge, until we drove past and I realised that the whole bus could have parked in there with plenty of room to spare!

And once again, since we’re staying in the park, we were able to watch the sun begin to go down and as everyone else drove out of the park, we walked along to dinner and gazed upwards again.

Having spent a couple of days looking over, across and down, it’s been rather interesting to look up!

What a day.  They really do keep getting better and better.  Will I have to use the “awesome” word tomorrow?

Magnificent.

This morning, we checked out early and began our drive to the other side of the canyon.  As the crow flies, it was a mere 11 miles, but to drive around involved a trip of 220!

We couldn’t resist one last look from this side, though – from Lipan Point, where we were lucky enough to be the only visitors.  For a short ten minutes or so, we had the whole of the Grand Canyon to ourselves – we stood quietly and absorbed the magnificent view which lay before us, reaching the conclusion that to appreciate such places, really, one needs to have peace, quiet and a little bit of space in which to contemplate.

But of course, with those two hundred and odd miles to go, one of us was getting restless.  We bid farewell to this side and set off around the corner and along the other side.

In the space of the next few hours, we experienced yet more stunning landscapes with the scenery changing character around every corner.  For instance, we kept coming across these little canyons – clefts in the earth which were just there in the ground to the side of the road.  Had we but known what interesting things lay in store for us on this particular journey, we’d have approached it in an altogether different way, because to be honest about it, we weren’t particularly looking forward to driving so far to end up so near.

We made a stop in Cameron, about the only place on our journey where we might find a snack of some kind but though we could have purchased any kind of Native American art, snacks seemed to be out of the question. 

Never mind, we weren’t hungry, really.

It wasn’t only the landscape that was changing, either.  The weather was so fickle today – 103F in the shade one minute, 55F in a rainstorm the next – oh, and 89F in between. 

The sky was changing character as fast as the scenery and we were loving every minute.

As always, I have way too many photographs to share, but here are a few highlights…

 

Strangely shaped hills which have been eroded, forming greyish green mounds at the foot of the cliff faces.

Those clear layers of rocks, which stretch for miles in perfectly straight lines.

The sudden sight of two buttes, appearing out of nowhere as we turn a corner and looking remarkably like two castle gates.

Two remarkable bridges over the Colorado River, because of course, to get from one side of the canyon to the other involves crossing the river.  One is for pedestrians only (on the left), the other for traffic.

Way down below, a fairly large raft taking about 25 tourists from Lake Powell downstream towards the canyon.

Over the bridge, the Vermilion cliffs, which looked rather more that colour in real life than they do in my photograph.

The wide open road, through flat countryside with little in sight but the car in front.

The burned remains of a conifer wood, just outside the National Park.

The wonderful sight of the canyon again, this time from the North Rim.

Changing light patterns as we sat with a cold Hefeweizen as the sun began to set.

Oh go on then just one more photograph.

And another, as the sun sinks in the sky and the shadows deepen.

Whilst those around us refuel on pizza and some kind of potnoodle, we decide it’s time to move along to the restaurant, where dinner will taste so much better sitting at a table and eaten with a knife and fork!

The end of another great day here in Arizona, with more stories to tell and hundreds of photographs on our SD cards, even if the best ones are in our heads, as ever.

Grand.

We’d booked rooms at El Tovar, the hotel on the south rim of the canyon and judging from the reaction of the chap in the Sedona Visitors Centre, we were in for a treat.

Hmm.

Our stay here has provided many stories for the journal, anyway, from the multi-faceted confusion over the table we booked for dinner (for three?  I have a table booked for seven…) to the reaction of her colleagues to the delightful Mary-Ellen’s chatter with us about England, The Other Boleyn Girl and how to pronounce Wriothseley (or whatever).  We’ll leave all the other details to Trip Advisor and the rest!

It’s hard to know which of the many, many photographs I took today to upload here.  Of course, none of them do the canyon justice – it’s just too big, too overwhelming and the colours and light are changing all the time. 

The reality is so different from the numerous publicity shots which are printed in all the leaflets and on the posters, which have been photoshopped and colour managed.  For a short while, we feared a Taj Mahal moment (we were a little underwhelmed, sad to say, having seen so many perfect images over the years, the reality was not quite as we’d hoped…)  But fortunately, as we stopped at the various viewpoints and spent time standing and staring, the magnitude of what lay in front of us overcame any other thoughts.

Putting it into perspective, we stood at the viewpoint right outside our hotel, looking down on that trail.  Only after gazing for a few minutes did we see the people walking on it…this picture is taken with no zoom or anything, so way, way down there, those little dots gave me cause to think…oh my.  It goes quite a long way further down than that, too.

Much of our day was affected by the people who were there too.  For the most part, they were charming; very friendly and curious about where we came from and where we were going next.  They too had their stories, and so we traded thoughts and ideas, opinions and experiences.  We heard a huge variety of languages (English, naturally, but also a lot of German was spoken) and when we were standing on the viewpoints – very secure, well maintained, no fear of falling! – it was noticeable how respectful people were of each other, because after all, we were mostly after the same pictures!

Mind you, there was always the odd surprise.  People standing in places where I wouldn’t have dreamed of going.

Of course, there was always a show off catching the attention of others around him, too.  Crazy. It’s noticeable how most of the warning signs are aimed at young men, the “invincible”, who seem to be the most likely to find themselves in need of assistance.

The whole experience was superbly managed. Once again, the National Parks have done a great job in ensuring that everyone is able to get the most out of their visit.  The park is very well maintained, there are clear tracks and viewpoints and yet the experience doesn’t feel too packaged.

We called into the Visitor Centre to stamp my sketchbook, of course.

Returning to El Tovar, we found ourselves a quiet spot with rocking chairs and a swing on the verandah, to do a great bit of people watching as the world and his wife walked right by us.

Meanwhile, the Hopi tribespeople were putting on a great performance just along the way.

And with a margarita (blended, with salt please), we sat and watched the sun go down.

What a great day.  What a grand place!

Sedona

As we spoke of our plans for our road trip, people with a better, more detailed knowledge of the area than ourselves spoke one word in unison.

Sedona.

Opinion was undivided.  Sedona was a must-see and definitely worth a detour.  Sure enough, it was built into our route between Prescott and Grand Canyon.

Having driven over the top from Prescott, via Jerome, we gasped as the sight of Sedona’s red rocks came into view.

OK.  Now we knew why everyone had said we should come here.

Our first stop was the Tourist Information centre, which was as welcoming and informative as every other one of these volunteer-run facilities has been.  The gentleman offered us plenty of excellent advice about where to see the best views and how to get there.

We followed his advice to the letter, of course.

It being a Saturday afternoon, we weren’t alone, naturally, but fortunately we managed to park the car and escape the worst of the crowds and see the most wonderful views of the rocks.

The chapel built into the hillside was a popular spot and it was here that I found a little bag to collect some of the red earth which characterised this area of Arizona.

Remarkable.

Sedona wasn’t our final stop for the day, though.  We had miles to go before we sleep…  Driving along this long stretch of road, we could only imagine the huge hole that lay between where we drove and that hill in the distance.

Soon, we were entering the National Park area, noting that every one of the fire warnings was set to “extreme”.  The figure of Smoky the Bear, who stands at the entrance to these parks was proving particularly popular today.

Whenever we have one of those “Golden Pass” moments; when Mary shows the card which not only entitles her to free entry to a National Park, but includes us as well, we say a quiet “thank you” to the US Parks Authority.  In addition, I can’t help looking at the Park Ranger and thinking of Yogi Bear and BooBoo!

Because, we are here.

More photos tomorrow, when we go and take a proper look at the biggest hole in the ground we’ve ever seen.

Moving on

Time to move on, then.  Leaving Scottsdale this morning, we began our journey northwards, towards Prescott.

The flat Sonoran desert landscape opened out in front of us as we made a hasty left turn into a car park because we’d spotted a Container Store!

We’ve talked at length about our impressions of Scottsdale and what makes it such an alien landscape, particularly for those of us who live in cooler climes.  To begin with, the building is low rise and mostly hidden from the road by walls.  As a result, there’s not a great deal to see.  Most structures are coloured in the same palette as the landscape – a variety of shades of stone, which also means they blend into the general scene rather more than elsewhere.  We’ve found it strange not to see people on the streets, walking and going about their business but having experienced the heat at first hand, can quite understand why they don’t!  As we drove out of the urban sprawl, we realised too, that there are no signs or billboards – that’s rather unusual over here, I think.

Soon, we were driving through a different landscape; a harder, more gritty one than before.  The soft tones were replaced by craggy hills and the road opened out into more of a wide motorway, travelling uphill gently.

The characteristic cactus landscape of the Sonoran Desert became less populated

and eventually, the cacti disappeared in favour of lower-growing, more shrubby plants. 

I began to make lists of the strange placenames and we began to count down the miles to Prescott, which is situated a mile above sea level.

Coming into town, we noticed more green, less beige.  A softer, more temperate place, a good ten degrees cooler than we’d left behind us.

 

We’d arranged to spend the afternoon and evening with Ray, a good friend of Mary’s who we’d met previously when he lived and worked in Los Angeles.  We looked forward to meeting him again, to catching up on his news and of course, to the privilege of seeing Prescott through the eyes of a local.  To get a good overview, Ray took us first to the top of the hill by the Yavapai casino which offered spectacular 360 degree views of the city and beyond.  The Butte there on the horizon is a particular landmark of Prescott.

We stood for a while, making the most of the cool(ish) breeze and learning a little about what makes Prescott tick.

 

Those peaks far away in the distance are over towards Flagstaff, a good hundred miles from here and where we’re headed tomorrow.

We had a great afternoon, mooching around the town centre, stopping in the square to learn a bit of history.  Passing a chap wearing a gold star on his belt, standing outside the courthouse, I just had to ask if he was the sheriff.  His colleague standing alongside him laughed and told me he’d bought the badge in a dressing up shop across the street – though he was the court bailiff, it turned out.  Well, sometimes you just have to ask, don’t you?

Seeing that commemorative stamp on the poster outside the courthouse led us to the post office, where I hoped to buy a couple for my journal.  Sadly all were sold out until August, but our visit (and lengthy wait) in the post office queue reaped an unexpected reward in the form of some found art.  A chap came in to gather mail from his mailbox, opened and took out the card from an envelope, which he then discarded and left on the table beside us, putting the card into his pocket as he went.  On the back of the envelope was written “eating sardines and thinking about my dad “    Of course, we made up the poignant back story to all of that…

We rounded off our time with Ray with dinner at the Hassayampa Inn, built when Prescott was the bustling capital and cattlemen would stop by when they were in town.  Now on the Register of Historic Places, we loved the decor of the lobby and spent some time admiring the details, including a beautiful painted ceiling.

The rest of the evening was filled with entertaining conversation and plates of prime rib – delicious. 

Prescott – what a fascinating place!