Day 8 - The Desert Drive (Moab to Grand Canyon)

Elevation = 7000 ft

Distance = 346 miles

Song of the Day = "Under African Skies" by Paul Simon

I’m not sure how much rum I put in my coffee last night, but frankly, it was probably too much. I awake late (7:30 am), and hurriedly toss everything in the car. It’s sad to leave Moab, but there is so much more adventure ahead!

Route 191 heads south out of Moab. I turn off onto 211 to visit Newspaper Rock. This road leads to the Needles District of Canyonlands, and I don’t pass a single car on the way in (want to go back again!!!!). Newspaper Rock is covered with petroglyphs depicting almost 2000 years of human history. Carvings from the Early Pueblan, Anasazi, Navajo and Paiute are represented, along with later carvings from Anglo explorers. The entire area is humbling in its range of human history, and is incredibly beautiful.

Two signatures... the one on top is from 1902.

Detail from Newspaper Rock

The view of the entire rock.

Another close up... notice the large and small footprints side by side.

Turning back onto 191 South, I pass the mining towns of Monticello and Blanding (very cute, but windy), then turn right onto 95 West. 

Views along 191 South of Monticello

It’s marked as a scenic route, and boy, the makers of Michelin Road Atlas 2011 certainly have this one right. The road rolls across high plateau, drops down into red rock lined canyons, and past juniper and pinyon groves, dry washes and house-sized boulders from the cliffs above. It is stark, desolate and beautiful. There are no towns, and no services for over 100 miles (make sure to fill up on gas if you go!), but the incredible scenery makes it worth it. I head south on 261 looking for Valley of the Gods (another recommendation from Phil) and am bewildered as to why the speed limit suddenly drops from 65 mph to 15 mph. There are no towns here – what is going on? Well, a drive down a gravel, switchbacked, sphincter-tightening, no guard-rail-type road down the face of the cliff is what. The view is stunning, but I am busy navigating the 5mph switchbacks with the car in low gear, threatening to fishtail at every washboard. I make it down (and maybe need to change my pants), thank the Focus for staying on the road, and run smack into Rt 163. Valley of the Gods is supposed to be right here – did I miss it? The alternative is to drive back up (and down) the cliff again, so I continue on to the town of Mexican Hat and onto the Navajo Nation Indian Reservation. 

So you see that road down there? WAY down there. Yeah, I just have to drive down a cliff because that's the road I'm currently on... just a few thousand feet higher.

Monument Valley is famous for being the backdrop for many a John Wayne movie, and falls under the Navajo Nation’s jurisdiction The entrance fee is only $5 (a bargain!), but the road through the park is 4-wheel drive only. I can pay for a jeep tour, but settle for a poke around the Visitor’s Center (did you know that the Navajo language was used as code for sending communications during WWII? Neither did I), and a brief hike around the valley.

Monument Valley

Route 163 enters Arizona, then terminates into 160 West at the reservation town of Kayente. It is a sad, dusty, hot, desolate place. Even the skin-and-bone horses in the corrals look tired and hot. The drive down 160 West is similar, barren and dusty. I pass a small range fire near the side of the highway. From a distance of 50 yards the intense heat can be felt from inside the car. A group of men is standing around listlessly, watching it burn.

Route 160 terminates at Route 89. Even here there are huge signs for the Grand Canyon. IMAX theater! Flintstones Park! See the Wild West Show! (Why would I pay to see an IMAX movie about the place I’m going to see in real life?). I turn onto Rt 64, the east entrance to the park. The land immediately starts to rise, up to a final elevation of around 7000 ft at the South Rim. As I drive, forests of Ponderosa Pine rise around me. It’s not until I am well into the park that I get my first glimpse of the Grand Canyon. I had passed several turnouts, but with the crowds, I had decided to save it until I could get out and walk. The road turns a bend, there it is, spread out before me. I had hoped to say something eloquent upon first seeing the Canyon, but can only let out a long, slow “WHHHOOOOOOAAAA”, somewhat reminiscent of Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure. I try to park at the next few turnouts, but every spot is taken (and why are there two grown women playing patty-cake in the parking lot at Lipan Point?).

First view!

I head through the confusing commercial tangle of Grand Canyon. Motor homes and cars cut each other off, shuttle buses zoom past, and children dart through traffic. It is disquieting after the solitude of the past few days. I check in at Mather Campground (site 152) and immediately regret my choice of tentsite. There is no privacy from your neighbors – the picnic tables are within a few feet of each other. A better choice would have been site 154, right across the road. I had deliberately reserved a site far away from the entrance in the hopes that it would be less crowded, but the entire campground seems full. After checking on the showers (15 people in line ahead of me), I skip it and catch a shuttle bus to Mather Point to watch the sunset. The path between Mather Point and Yavapai Point is crowded with people. I find a quiet spot right on the edge of the rim (no guard rails here either – just the 1 mile drop to the canyon floor) and settle in to watch the sunset. A few minutes later, some fucktard wearing an Ed Hardy t-shit and backwards baseball cap walks up behind me. He is talking on his iPhone, loudly. “What’s the canyon like? Yeah, it’s like, really big. It’s really huge. I had no idea how big it was going to be.” Thank you, Smarty Articulates O’lot. Can I offer you a thesaurus? Or a few more steps forward and do us both a favor?

Sunset looking east

Sunset looking northwest

After sitting for 45 minutes, the crowds grow even larger and I get a bit irritated (according to my watch, the sun should be down by now). Hungry and tired, I catch the shuttle bus back to the campground. Since I am alone on the bus, I tell the fucktard story to the driver. She smiles and says “Yeah, we get a lot of that here.”

Dinner (burgers and corn on the cob). Read. No rum. Sleep.