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Two weeks ago we bid farewell to the cool mountain air of Yosemite and Sequioa National Parks and headed across into Nevada. We picked mum and Simon up from the airport (yay!) and drove down The Strip into Las Vegas. As we drove by the famous sights - the Luxor, Caesar's Palace, New York New York, etc - we were excited, exilerated and hyped up by it all, looking forward to getting some exploration done.
And then about 2 hours later, we were ready to leave.
There's a reason the highway into Vegas has signposts reminding you of the ten commandments; you are literally driving into hell. Thousands of overdressed hedonists crammed onto one road. Oppressive heat. Claustrophobic casinos. Pole dancers. Blaring music. Perpetual intoxication. The incessant sounds of slot machines. And so on. For some people (cough Sarah cough) this would be a dream come true; for me, it was my worst nightmare. But we had 3 nights there and we were determined to make the most out of it without spending a ridiculous amount of money. And so on our first day we walked down The Strip to the Las Vegas sign. It was 4 miles of
wading through hordes of leafletters, dodging drunken gamblers, with the sun beating down on our heads and our impractical shoes shredding our feet to pieces (mainly mum's). Having learned our lesson, we spent the following day relaxing by the pool and enjoying the air conditioning of the casinos. I gambled away a whole total of 25 cents and was already bored though; the architecture of the casinos is much more interesting than the slot machines. The Venetian is beautiful, for example, and Caesar's Palace is full of replica statues and paintings that I could have spent ages looking at. And even I have to admit, the free shows along The Strip are great. We watched sirens battle pirates outside Treasure Island, saw the Bellagio fountains dance spectacularly in time with Frank Sinatra's 'Fly me to the moon' and witnessed a volcanic eruption at the Mirage hotel. As entertaining as it all was though, by the third day we were all happy to leave.
We drove north into Utah, where we stayed in the quaint little pioneer town of Hurricane, soaking in the peace and quiet. We spent the day hiking around Zion National Park, a deep valley of red
rocks, scattered with shallow (but wonderfully cool) pools and spraying waterfalls. At one point we got a little worried about a fire, because the risks are pretty high in these places, when Simon said he could smell smoke. It turned out to be the remnants of his cigarette burning a hole through his pocket. Of course.
The whole place was beautiful, and there was enough greenery to make it seem lush, as well as to provide some well-needed shade from the desert heat. But, in my opinion, Zion was overshadowed by Bryce Canyon National Park, which we visited the next day. Walking to the edge and looking down into a vast amphitheatre of denseley clustered hoodoos, pillars and arches, was like looking onto an alien planet; I have never seen anything so strange. The colours varied from deep red to gold to white, and as we hiked down to the canyon floor, wading through the hoodoos, the formations only became stranger and stranger. I can't properly describe it, and the photos don't do it justice, but they'll have to do. Seriously, if you ever get the chance, go there!
We stayed that night in a creepy little motel
in a middle-of-nowhere town, and were glad to spend the next night in a cute little log cabin in the woods near the north rim of the Grand Canyon. We were, however, not too happy to hear that the road to the Grand Canyon is still closed for the winter (in May?!?), so we began the treacherous journey along some unpaved logging roads. We (eventually) made it to the Grand Canyon and what can I say? It's pretty darn big! We had our own private view of it, stretching out for miles before us, and it was definitely worth the journey!
The following day we drove down to Flagstaff, where we had a nice evening at the cinema. We watched Star Trek and afterwards decided to drive up to an observatory to watch for shooting stars (unfortunately, all the trekkies from the cinema had the same idea, so we were not alone in our stargazing!). The day after we made our way to the much more crowded, and apparently more scenic, south rim of the Grand Canyon, and what was meant to be one of the best days of travel turned out to be one of the worst. Not
only did we have to share our view with hundreds of other tourists, but on the way into the park, Simon was stopped by the police and fined $75 for accidentally running a stop sign (I'm sure we'll laugh about it eventually...) And then, less than half an hour into our trail, my camera broke. We were at the GRAND CANYON and my camera - completely out of the blue - decided to die on me. How inconsiderate! I'd RIP it, but it deserves to burn in hell for leaving me in the lurch at possibly THE most photogenic view in north America! And so we had to scour Flagstaff for a new camera (goodbye $130); needless to say, I was not happy.
The next day, however, was highly redemptive. We wound our way down through the hills to Sedona, a new age hippy town, set amongst red rock 'vortexes'. I don't quite get the science behind it, but apparently these 'vortexes' radiate electromagnetic energy, attracting time shifts, aliens and masses of aura-readers who have set up shop in town. We did a hike around Bell Rock, one of these 'vortexes' and though we didn't, in all honesty, feel
this energy, we enjoyed the beauty of it. I'd say that we also enjoyed the diversity of wildlife there, but when we stumbled across a red and black striped snake, me and mum (in true nature-loving form) did a panicked sprint in the opposite direction, and from that point on, I was absolutely paranoid about any rock or shrub that more could be hiding beneath. Snake encounter aside though, we all loved Sedona, and as the sun began to set we headed up to a high point to get some good views. But again, everyone seemed to have the same idea, and so a huge group of us stood together watching the sky, like the people from Close Encounter. Unifying, but a bit creepy.
Up early the next morning to go to the Navajo Tribal Park of Monument Valley. I've been looking forward to this for a long time, and it didn't disappoint. With huge, deep red coloured buttes spread out across the desert and horses left to wander freelly across the landscape, how could you not feel like you're in a Hollywood western? We did a trail around the buttes The Mittens, and then drove around the area
trying to identify the variously named mesas and rock formations - The Three Sisters, The Thumb, The Camel, The Elephant, etc. We were planning on spending the night in Kayenta, but the Holiday Inn was charging such a ridiculous price that mum (very politely, of course) told them to get lost, and back we went to Flagstaff. This gave us the opportunity though to head back down into the Sedona area, where we went to Slide Rock State Park. A creek runs through the red rocks, and the bed of the creek is so slippery that it has created its own natural waterslide. We braved the tumbling rapids a few times and then just floated along the creek, enjoying the cool water. We all came away with bruised and grazed backsides, and Mark, at one point, went a little too far down the creek and ended up plummetting down a small waterfall, but it's all in the name of fun, right? We lay on the rocks, nursing our injuries and reading, and when we had dried off in the hot sun, we made our way, once again, back to Flagstaff.
And then the following day we grudgingly returned to
Las Vegas, but we spent as little time there as possible, driving out of the city to go to Death Valley.
It. was. hot.
Beautiful, in a very desolate kind of way, but more than anything, it was just hot. We went down to Badwater, the lowest point in North America, and the salt flats stretched on for miles. Everything was glaringly white, and the sun beat down unrelentlessly, so even though we made our way to Zabriskie Point and Dante's View, we couldn't bring ourselves to walk any of the trails, choosing instead the luxury of our air conditioned car. Mum did, however, jog for a few yards in 115 degrees heat, just so she could say that she had done it. And Mark, of course, wore his long sleeved black shirt and black jeans, as if it was barely warm. I, on the other hand, could hardly breathe, it was so hot! -20 degrees in Beijing feels like a very very long time ago...
And so our 2 week roundtrip with mum and Simon has come to an end 😞 and we drove out of the desert for the last time. Let us hope and
pray that cool breezes await us in the north!
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Deborah
non-member comment
lovely photos as always
Sorry to hear about your camera and Las Vegas being rubbish! Hopefully the other points made up for it. Good luck in the north :-)