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stream
A stream where we stopped just north of Sedona
Matt Edwards Tues, May 15
Well, it's been six long days since I last found my way to a computer to update this little broken stream of consciousness. I've been kind of busy for the last few days and now without reliable transportation, so hopefully (crosses fingers) I'll be doing this more often when I get my bike on the road and things smooth out a bit. Just a little more work to do-- gotta mount my brakes and racks and either cut up my fenders so they'll fit, or get rid of them at some bike shop and maybe try to find some others. Then I'll be mailing a few unpackable things (thanks for the beautiful book, Grandma) back home to narrow down my things into a few saddle bags.
I got a ride into Phoenix (more properly Tempe, an outlying part of the Phoenix metro area) with Daniel; he wanted to meet a friend there. We met up with Nikki and hiked around the Tonto national forest just east of Phoenix for a little while. I was amused to see an expanse of prickly pear, barrel cacti, and saguarros referred to as a 'forest', but I hear that
cliffs
Cliffs on the way out of Sedona there are actually trees in it farther north. We slept in Nikki's back yard that night, and Daniel dropped me off at Gabe's house the next morning. It's good to see Gabe again after a long time. He's been travelling the country working on archaeological digs, and he's been here for about a year now. Gabe has a few days off before he has to head south to the dig he's on now, so we have some good adventure planned.
Thurs, May 17
That blurb on Tuesday was all I could get in at the library before having to leave with my ride. But today I find myself back at the ASU library with practically unlimited time to blog away-- I brought myself here on two wheels. Yes, my bike is finally on the road. She still needs a lot of tweaking, but when she's in tip top shape and ready to get me on the road, I'll be sure to post a few pictures on here and an entry in her honor (also for the purpose of proving to you all that this bike of mine actually exists and I'm not just yankin' yer chain about the
loner
a loner in the streambed whole crazy quest).
Other than an amazing camping trip to the Grand Canyon, nothing too noteworthy has happened; just days of running errands and baking in the Phoenix sun. So I'll focus the rest of this entry on that particular minor journey.
We left Phoenix in the early afternoon--Gabe, Sean, and myself-- with a specific scenic route in mind for heading north to the Canyon. We started north on I-17 but soon veered northwest on a state road to pass through Tuzigoot national monument. Now this is something you truly must see if you ever venture this way. Imagine hiking through miles and miles of the same old arid desert, nothing in sight growing but barrel catus and mesquite and the occasional stoic birdpecked saguarro. You and your company are growing mighty thirsty and tired, and starting to worry about making it back to wherever you came from. Then you round the side of a mesa and up ahead, way down in a newly visible valley- are we seeing things? I could swear that the ground down there is
green! (I actually had to make this particular double take myself, being acutely aware of my own colorblindness).
sculpture
my aesthetic contribution to the landscape- a sculpture I made in the streambed outside of Sedona Yep, it's green. Lets stop here and get somethin' to drink, maybe munch on some tasty wild plants that
don't have inch-long spikes sticking out in every direction. We can stay the night. We could probably stay a couple nights. Better yet, I've got a few dry beans and corn kernels and squash seeds in my bag-- we can plant 'em, maybe settle down here for a while. Say, three hundred years or so.
And that's what they did, sometime around 1000 years ago. The central attraction at Tuzigoot is an impressively preserved archaeological site atop a large hill. It's dozens of stone rooms all connected together, climbing the hill to various levels. From the top of it you can see the whole valley, quite a beautiful view. Placards inform us that there were several small communities in the valley, of which this one is the largest. Standing at the top and surveying the wide valley with Gabe I noted, half-joking, "I could settle down here and eat some corn for a while" Gabe acknowledged the timeless human wisdom of my sentiment, and at the signal of the ranger's jeep horn (the park was closing) we headed back down
it's gonna be a looong hike
the view from the south rim of the Canyon the path to return to our own faster-paced civization where corn more often becomes Coca-Cola than bread.
The drive on up to the Canyon from there was beautiful, especially passing through Sedona. After leaving behind the numerous advertisements for psychic readings in downtown Sedona, we hit some beatiful views rising out of the valley. Unable to resist the urge to get out and be closer to the wilderness, we stopped at a small concrete turn-out. We spent a good 45 minutes or so wandering along the rocks beside a streambed running through the bottom of the valley, contemplating the sights. The stones there were divided neatly into three or four distinct types, all rounded by water flowing for eons across them. The creative spirit took hold of me for a few minutes during which time I made a small sculpture from some flat stones, and we got back on the road.
We camped for free in the national forest just outside of the park proper. Another group met us at the campsite- Adam, Jen, and Quinn, and we got a fire started and pitched tents. I soaked up the time around the fire knowing that the next night
three bighorns on the trail
these fellers were just hanging around the trail- seemed almost totally unconcerned by the tourists walking by. I'd probably be pretty confident too if I lived in the Grand Canyon. might not be so jovial at the bottom of the canyon. I curled up by the warm embers in my sleeping bag and slept well, if perhaps not long enough, beneath the stars.
A contingent left for the back country permit just before 8, and after 10 we were in the park and headed for the trail. The canyon is too grand indeed for an adequate verbal description. You think you can see it all, but then a few miles later the trail reaches the edge of a new tier of sheer cliff and drops another thousand feet. Dante came to mind-- I imagined that I was walking with Virgil, descending steadfastly into the heart of the inferno (it was certainly getting hotter as we dropped in altitude). After nine miles (one for each level? ha!) we were at the bottom of the canyon where we would spend the night. The Colorado River was flowing strong and !cold! and it was refreshing to splash around there for a few minutes. Amazingly, the river wasn't even visible until we were only a thousand feet or so above it (the total altitude difference between the bottom and the southern rim is
looking out
A view of the rim just a thousand feet or so down about a mile). Nope, if you just drive up to the edge you're never even going to see the pulsing heart of this gargantuan beast.
Wildlife was much more abundant than I expected on the way down. We saw a threesome of desert bighorns, a pair of mule deer, hordes of small lizards, and dozens albert sqirrels (these folks only live on the south rim; their cousins the kaibab squirrels similarly live only on the north rim-- they split way back when and the geographical isolation of the vast canyon allowed them to follow separate evolutionary trajectories). Plant life was also denser than I expected. Mainly small bushes grow in the less steeply sloped regions, with a few cacti and some smaller plants. I found a wild mint not far from the rim and some daturas near the bottom (I've seen varieties of these in yards back home planted for their large white trumpet-shaped flowers). There was a campground/rest stop on the way down called Indian Gardens where amazingly many deciduous trees (some
quite large) and some grasses and other small plants thrived on natural springs issuing from the rock. We took a nap in that beautiful shady oasis.
...and miles to go before we sleep
that faint winding line is our trail to the bottom. way out over the plateau's edge where the faint line ends (near the center of the picture) it's another 1000 feet or so to the Colorado river. We didn't make it for long after cooking spaghetti and having dinner at our campsite. Eight hours later we were back up and at 'em. I slept rather poorly on the hard picnic table (there were six of us confined to a campsite not much larger that 10'x15'), so I knew it would be a long hike out. Yep, ironically it was quite a bit more hellish climbing
out of this particular inferno. The trail out was seven miles rather than nine, which means it was quite a bit steeper. Seven miles out, one mile up comes to about a 15%!g(MISSING)rade. It took about 6 hours with frequent stops. Some of us were hurting more than others at the end. Calves were sore all around. Jenny was waddling which was funny until I got a good night's sleep--the next day I was doing the same. We stopped for a real meal in Flagstaff, got some pizza at a nice local joint. Mmmmmm! So much better than trail mix and Clif bars. I slept like a baby for the rest of the ride home and hit the sack not long after that.
Calves are feeling better now. Gabe
The river
cooling off by the river- just a mile or so further to the campground. left for an archaeological dig in Ajo, quite a way south, and the last few days here in Phoenix have been a lot of running around trying to get my bike on the road. I'm hoping to leave here in a handful of days. Maybe I'll wait for Gabe to get back from work on Monday or Tuesday and have a proper farewell. Interestingly, yesterday I experienced another splendid sychronicity. I was in the local bike shop that I've been frequenting, being helped by a fellow I hadn't yet seen in there, and after a little questioning he realized my intention to do some long-haul touring. When he asked about my route, I informed him that I'd be passing between the Sierra Nevadas and the Coast Ranges in the south of the state, hitting the coast at San Fran, and heading north into Oregon and perhaps points beyond. He became quickly enthused and told me that he was planning the same route next summer with his girlfriend. Then he asked where I was from: yep, he lived there for some time as well-- went to grade school in Louisville. So he's supposed to be calling me today to meet up
back on the rim
here's a picture someone took for us just after we made it back out of the canyon. yep, that's me on the right. somehow i'm standing. for some last minute bike preparation. Sometimes the fates are on your side.
I hope y'all are doing well back home in the 'Tuck (short for Kentucky-- thanks for that lil' morsel, Daniel) or wherever you happen to find yourselves. Keep in touch, leave me a message or comment if you like. I'll be on here again to report before I
really hit the road.
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Supermom
non-member comment
Wow
The strokes of your paintbrush leave us vivid images of all the colors, senses and awe that was purposely created for our pleasure and use. Thanks for bringing them to me.