Friday, June 3
Today
we had three targets lined up, the Barringer meteor
crater east of Flagstaff, Grand Canyon on our way to Monument Valley and
Mexican Hat.
Went
back out on I-40 and got past Flagstaff
and out in a prairie-like surrounding with yellow-greenish grass swaying for
the wind. In the middle of nowhere a sign informed us of the paved two-lane
road to the crater, so we got off the freeway and drove the few miles to the
visitor center. Apparently the place is privately held and even though the
crater was cool to see I found some reason to chime in with those who had
reviewed the entrance fee being too high. It seemed the visitor center was a
little too ambitious and luxurious, but they had a decent size chunk of the
meteorite that was interesting to see and touch. Of course the crater itself
was an impressive sight although it was hard to grasp its dimensions and I
actually found it to seem smaller than I thought.
Backtracking
I-40 to Flagstaff, we took the little cut-off
road through Winona
to get to 89 north. A lady in a little white car pulled out just in front of me
and stayed within a mph of the speed-limit which annoyed me a bit, but I didn’t
challenge my luck with the poor passing opportunities and remained behind her,
which turned out to be wise as we passed the local sheriff who was hawking
traffic from a side road. As I gazed in the rear-view mirror I saw him pull out
behind us just as we got to the next bend, and as I turned at the traffic-light
at 89 he turned on his lights and had me pull over. He got very nervous as he
couldn’t really see through my darkly tinted windows and when he finally
knocked on the passenger side window I was concerned that he’d be upset. It
turned out he had me pulled over for not having a license-plate as you get a
temporary one right at the dealership in AZ. So I got to educate him on
Californian sloppiness and the slowness of its native DMV and he excused
himself and let us go.
After
a fairly uneventful drive up to 64 and a short stop at its side by a
mini-canyon, we came to the imitated Indian tower at the Grand
Canyon rim where we spent an hour or two snapping pictures and
climbing the tower. We ate our Safeway-sandwiches on the patio by the tower and
waved good-bye to Grand Canyon. It IS very
grand and very magnificent in every sense of the word, but unless you take a
hike down there, you spend two hours looking at it and then it’s “now what?”.
So
back on 64 to 89 north and then 160 towards Tuba City
(not much of a city by the way) and for the first time my gas-light came on. I
had been very careful to top up even a half-full tank at every given
opportunity so far, but this time it had just slipped my mind. 160 looked
nothing like a metropolitan highway and the landscape in yellow sandstone did
nothing to reveal any sign of civilization, so I got a little nervous. Not much
to do except just head on, but before we knew it there was a little village in
the middle of nowhere with gas-station and all, emergency level back to green!
After
continuing on for another stretch of 160 we eventually came to Cayenta where we switched over to 163, THE Monument Valley road! And sure enough, the rocks
obtained more and more of a reddish tint the further we drove and the buttes
started to appear in the distance. Entering this scenery cannot be anything but
awe-inspiring for anyone with a clear vision. I cannot think of any better name
of the valley myself, the towering rocks and strange formations in orange-red,
towering over the vast, slightly bulging land with green vegetation truly looks
like mysterious monuments erected by some strange creatures!
After
a very pleasant and slow-paced drive through the valley we came upon San Juan River,
the bridge across it and immediately to the left on its far side, on a
cliff-shelf above the fast flowing water, the San Juan Inn, our rest-stop for
the next two nights and the only place within miles that serves alcohol. Lucky
we are! Any sane human being knows that leaning back with a cold beer after a
long, hot and dry day only helps to elevate sanity to even higher levels! So after
checking into our room, taking a stroll around the property and taking a brief
swing in the car to look at The Mexican Hat, we took aim at the restaurant to
be treated with real Navajo food. I settled for a beef-stew with vegetables,
fried Navajo corn-bread and honey. After all the sandwiches and steak-houses
this was really a treat. I can’t help but say that in this self-nominated
ultra-modern and ultra-varied and ultra-super-best food and everything else in
the world society, it is remarkable that plain food, likely cooked on non-fancy
ingredients with no ambition of being fancy by the people that strolled the
land way before the white man brought his synthesized culture – tasted better
than anything I had throughout the whole trip. Period.
