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Published: August 5th 2009
August 5th 2009 Doing a disservice It has occurred to me that, other than commenting on the weather and the availability of alcohol, I didn’t say very much about Salt Lake City. It is a curious city. Downtown SLC is very much the working heart of the city, housing a selection of banks and other sky-scraping office blocks. Wandering around on a Tuesday (?) afternoon, there was hardly a soul to see. Even at lunchtime during the school holidays. Nik asked a passer-by where the people were. The answer: the mall. She found the people and took photos of them as evidence. Whilst Nik summoned the energy to wander around the scorching city for the afternoon, I whimped out and relaxed by the pool. She had relatively little to report back except for the wedding taking place in which both parties looked very young. It is something we had noticed earlier in Wyoming and Utah - seemingly very young married couples (maybe in their teens or very early 20s). With lots of children, so many children, in tow. It’s not unusual in this area to see families with four, five or even six children. To me,
that is unusual. Our
neighbours at the SLC campground were a family with 5 children and another one the way. If the oldest child was more than 7 years old, I would eat my hat. It certainly is a different way of life.
What next? I’ve lost track of where we’ve been. It’s been a busy few days hopping all over the desert. That’s right. From SLC we drove through the unremarkable terrain of south western Utah to Bryce Canyon, which is incredibly remarkable. Actually, I can’t say much about the journey as I slept most of the way. Our approach took us through Red Canyon. God Lord, my breath was taken away. The colour is irreplicable (impossible to replicate??) in photos. Funnily enough, the canyon was a stunning red colour. Huge boulders of red rock just rising up out of the desert. The icing on the cake (at least for me as I love this colour combination) was the deep grey clouds which formed a dramatic backdrop to the Red Canyon. It was truly striking.
Grey clouds are generally full of rain. These clouds were no different. Driving on into Bryce Canyon National Park, we were welcomed with a full-blown thunderstorm.
Thunder, lightening, the whole nine yards. Having just gotten all the advice about bears down in our minds, we quickly had to learn the 30:30 lightening rule. If there is less than 30 seconds between the lightening and thunder, you need to make your way to shelter. Then stay there for 30 minutes after the last lightening has illuminated the sky. I have to say we needed little persuasion to stay inside and quickly decided to forego camping in the lashing rain and made our camp in the Bryce Canyon Pines motel. It’s a great little place just outside the national park with wireless internet, world famous pie, rather short showers and TV. Yes, there is a God. After three weeks without mindless television entertainment, we had a TV in our room. I can’t say I was disappointed that the rain forced us inside for a couple of nights. I had almost forgotten what it feels like to sleep in a room built from bricks and with a proper bed. Heavenly! Nik and I gorged ourselves on elk burgers, apple pie, an NCIS marathon and the second half od Gone With The Wind. Frankly my dear…it was delightful.
Add
in Bryce Canyon and it was a near perfect couple of days. Just like Glacier National Park, words fail to describe Bryce Canyon. Of all the national parks we have visited in this area, Bryce Canyon was undoubtedly my favourite. Unaware of what to expect, we walked to the edge of the canyon at Sunrise Point, looked over the edge and gasped. It was awesome, truly awesome. Tower upon tower of red, orange and white rocks soaring from below; a rock feast for the eyes. Having ventured a short way into the canyon the first afternoon, our second day started well before sunrise so that we could capture the sun showering its first rays of the day over Bryce Point. It was well worth the early morning wake up call and meant we could fit in an 8-mile hike through Fairyland in the canyon basin before the heat became unbearable. And before it started raining again! And so that we could get back home, have a nap, go for a swim and shower and get ready for the rodeo. Yee-ha, we went to a rodeo! Although somewhat exciting I just couldn’t get past the fact that we were sat watching
both animal and child cruelty. I don’t know much about rodeos and how well the animals are treated, but it didn’t seem very kind. And the small kids being encouraged to fall of animals, well, that just isn’t right to me. One kid limped out of the area having been thrown off a bucking cow. Still, it was an experience and we got to sing the American National anthem at the beginning which was cool. Hand on heart and all that!
Ya’ateeh! I was reluctant to leave Bryce Canyon, not only because of the lovely motel but also because the canyon was a great place for hiking. But onwards and downwards we went. To Monument Valley on the Utah/Arizona border. It was an epic day’s driving across the moon, Saturn and Mars, through Capitol Reef National Park and around the top of Lake Powell before descending through Mexican Hat and into Monument Valley. Oh yes, and then I had to do a 50-mile round-trip detour back to Mexican Hat because I left the cap for the fuel tank at the gas station. Our momentary stopover in Mexican Hat was actually quite interesting. It’s a tiny town, home to a
few motels and a couple of gas stations - a gateway town into Monument Valley, if you will. It is also on the edge of the Navajo reservation, or Navajo Nation as the Navajos call it. To walk into the gas station and find it busy with Navajos was hardly surprising. It was disappointing, though, that the first Native Indians we saw fulfilled (what we consider to be) the typical portrayal of Native Indians: they were all grossly overweight and buying alcohol in bulk. Anyway, as it turns out, Nik and I should have been being alcohol too. No alcohol is sold in the Navajo Nation and we had to go a night without any beer. Shock horror!
My impression of the Navajo Nation - through our very brief stay in Monument Valley and subsequently at Canyon de Chelly - was one of contradictions. On the drive into Monument Valley I noticed lots of glittering in the sand by the side of the road. Asking Nik what this was (she is the master of nature knowledge), I was surprised her answer was ‘rubbish’, ‘trash’. Despite their connection and respect for the land, this was the first place we have
been where rubbish is not collected up, even dead animals are left to decay on the side of the road. Yet most striking was the coming together of two cultures. We attended a ranger talk at Canyon de Chelly on contemporary Navajo culture. Having spent two hours giving us a fascinating talk on the stories of creation (the Navajos were forced to migrate to this world when their previous world was flooded by the water monster as punishment for the coyote stealing the former’s children), Ravis, the ranger, suddenly said, ‘but anthropologists have shown that we descend from tribes which originated in Canada’. This coming together - of the modern science world and the ancient stories passed down through the generations - was intriguing.
BTW, ‘Ya’ateeh’ means ‘hello’ in Navajo.
Baking in the sun As with Bryce Canyon, I was completely unprepared for Monument Valley: I knew the name but didn’t know what to expect. With some reflection, I found it oppressive. The desert emanating out from the famous landscape of the Valley is vast, hot and dry. Of course I state the obvious, but it simply did not agree with me. After a morning of taking sunrise
photos and joining a Navajo guide called Preston for a very informative tour of the Valley, I was glad to be moving on. Our next destination was only a few dozen miles: Canyon de Chelly. Although the terrain was vastly different from Monument Valley, the weather was equally as disabling. The only thing to do was to sit in the shade and try to keep cool. As such, we didn’t see as much of the canyon as we would have liked. Other than the ranger talk, we signed up for an 8-mile ranger-led hike through the floor of the Canyon.
Maybe three days ago we shut up shop yet again, jumped into Betty Boy and returned north to Moab in Utah. Now this is hot town! I mean temperature-wise. Over 100C while we were there, which the gas station attendant explained was normal for this time of year. As seemed sensible to do, our first morning in town we got up at 5.20am to get out to the nearby Arches National Park. Surprisingly (?!) there were lots of stunning tangerine-tinged rock arches to see! By 7am we were clambering our way over boulders and up rockfaces along the primitive
trail to Double ‘O’ Arches. It was so much fun and we were rewarded with jaw-dropping views. 10.30am found us back in town eating breakfast. It is the only way to do things here. Well, of course, some people wouldn’t agree with us. Similar to the silly people trying to pet the buffalo in Yellowstone, there are silly people in the world who think it is sensible to go out at 11am when it is already 100C and attempt a 5-mile hike across the desert. With only a small bottle of water and nothing to protect their head. Admittedly I am travelling with a very informed Aussie who adheres to her Government’s advice of ‘slip, slap, slop’ (something to do with wearing a hat, a t-shirt and sunscreen) to protect yourself from the sun. I’m not quite that sensible, but still…
Another day, another state, another diner Yesterday we drove eastward into my tenth state (and Nik’s eighth), Colorado. The rapid change in scenery was spectacular. From the quasi-desert of south-eastern Utah, we suddenly found ourselves in the mountains of south-western Colorado. An abundance of diminutive sunflowers decorated the side of the highway. We had planned to have breakfast
in the neatly-named town of Paradox. It turned out to be a hamlet. We continued on to Bedrock (no Flintstones in sight) and still nowhere that sold cooked food. Actually, apart from a small collection of houses, a post office the size of a postage stamp and a funky but sparsely-stocked general store, there as nothing to Bedrock. Ditto for the neighbouring town of Naturita. Tummies rumbling we pulled into the mountain-pass town of Norwood and practically sprinted into the Happy Belly Deli on Main Street. Just one more in a growing list of stupendous independent cafes and diners we have visited on our search for the best breakfast in America. Beating the Deli’s sourdough waffles is going to be tough.
Talking of breakfast, I have set myself a challenge. As you may or may not be aware, one traditional American breakfast comprises biscuits and gravy. We’re talking about American biscuits which are akin to an English scone but not as heavy. These biscuits can be served with eggs, some kind of meat and gravy. Yep, like you put on your Sunday roast dinner. Now, I’m a big fan of putting maple syrup on scrambled eggs and bacon, which
I am aware some people find disgusting. But to me, biscuits and gravy for breakfast sounds just awful. Sorry America, but the thought alone does something terrible to my tastebuds. Nonetheless, I feel it is something I have to do. Every evening I say to myself that I will have it for breakfast for the next day, but when it comes to it, well, I’m a wimp! So, please some encouragement. I bet it will taste lovely in the end? Gulp.
The final point on our whistle-stop tour of Native Indian culture is Mesa Verde, a National Park just outside Cortez, Colorado. Although I would have been very happy to stay in Tuleride, a pretty, upmarket ski resort just north of here in the mountains where we stopped to stretch our legs, I am so glad we pushed on to Mesa Verde. One of the countries first National Parks, Mesa Verde brings to life the world of the Anasazi, ancient ancestors of modern Puebloan Indian tribes which we have heard so much about in the past few days. It is a fascinating, illuminating experience for young and old, involving climbing up and down ladders and squeezing through tunnels to
visit the expansive ruins of the Anasazi's dwellings precariously perched in alcoves half way up the canyon walls. The Anasazi's obvious strength and agility is truly astounding.
And they have a micro-brewery in town, so if you weren’t already convinced to pop over for a visit, that should do it!
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Melanie
non-member comment
I've been there
I've been to Four Corners. My mother coaught a rattlesnake there. No joke. We also went to Mesa Verde. I went horseriding in Canyon de Chelly. Isn't Monument Valley amazing? Edward forgot his passport there so we had to drive back from Mesa Verde one night to get it. Also, at Monument Valley, Robert and Gerrard ordered wine (like you not realising there was a ban on alcohol). It was advertised as Navajo wine but was simply very expensive gtrape juice. Are you going to Durango? You must - it's quite a sight.