The Northern Rim
I’m limiting myself to one national park today – the north rim of the Grand Canyon – so I have an extra hour in bed, then stop by Laid Back Larry’s for a triple shot latte to wake me up. It’s a couple of hours drive to the north rim, but again the scenery is spectacular. For at least 20 miles before the canyon entrance, there are wide grassy plains, lined with cedar forests. They’ve had to put signs up telling people not to drive across the meadows. I would’ve thought it was obvious.
I arrive, collect maps and advice from the visitor centre, then drop in to the lodge to see the magnificent views over the canyon from there. It’s not quite as colourful as the south rim, but there are far fewer people, so that makes up for it.
I'm going to try the North Kaibab hike, which has a couple of different stages where you can turn around. It’s a downhill hike, so I figure I’ll go to the first stage, knowing it’s going to be harder on the way back.
There are no shuttles here, so I start driving back along the road towards the trailhead. There’s a young girl and a much older guy walking along the road. They wave. After I go past, I realise they may have been asking for a lift, so despite never having picked up a hitchhiker in my life, I turn around and go back. They are actually trying to get to the same trailhead, so I offer them a ride. It turns out they are grandfather and granddaughter and grandmother is waiting for them in the RV, so they left it at the lodge for her rather than driving it to the trail. They are lovely people and we walk together. I hope the granddaughter will end up studying abroad at the University of Tasmania. I’m a good Ambassador. The grandfather’s nickname is Wheezer. He’s a character. He reminds me of my father, but a more coherent version. He talks all the way down the hike to the second stage, then not at all on the way back up, which really is hard work. I’m starting to understand why people hike though. It’s to do with the sense of achievement, as well as the views. When we finally make it back up top, covered in dust from the donkeys that passed us on the way down, I offer Wheezer and co a lift back, which they accept and repay with a cool drink and a slice of chocolate cake. A fair exchange.
I stop by a few of the other viewpoints which are on the rim proper – the Kaibab hike was down a feeder canyon. The views at the other location are every bit as spectacular as the south rim, with all the shades and colour variations. There is an interpretive walk, which I follow to learn about the local flora, and there are several viewing platforms. Every now and then I get a glimpse of the Colorado River, which is a muddy brown over this side.
It’s close to dusk when I drive out of the park and back to Kanab, stopping at a Mexican restaurant recommended by the hotel owner. It’s run by a Mexican family who educated me on the difference between Tex-Mex, which is what is usually available internationally, and real Mexican. The chicken burrito is delicious. After my hike, I deserve a sweet treat, but the Mexican restaurant doesn’t do desserts. As I pull into my cabin, I remember the McDonalds across the road and run over for a sundae. They don’t have them, so I settle for an M&M McFlurry, which puts me on a sugar high for the rest of the evening.
Crowding in the Canyon
This is my longest lie in all week as I don’t have to be on the road until 9.30am and even then I’ve factored in time for another Laid Back Larry’s triple shot. I’m booked to visit Antelope Canyon on the way back, which is on the Navajo Reservation, so has to be led by a native guide. The tour goes from Page, just over the Arizona border. I arrive a little early, but figure I’ll check in, then go and sit somewhere. As I’m finishing the paperwork, I realise I’m another hour early – I’ve forgotten about the time difference between Arizona and Utah. Damn this Mountain Standard Time. I go and find an iced chocolate to fill the time.
When I get back to the tour office, there are what seems like hundreds of people milling outside and some trucks with bench seats in the back and monster jacked-up tyres. We shuffle about until we are allocated to a truck. There are 14 people to a truck and I’m with a group of 13 who came together. They take up all the space in the back and refuse to squeeze up, even when asked by the guide. He tells me to climb in the front cab with him instead. Climb is the operative word. The foot step is at my chest level. the tyres on these things are so big. I have to grab the steering wheel and hoist myself up, then slide over to the passenger side.
We all get to Antelope Canyon at the same time and go in as groups. I hate to say it, but my group is quite obnoxious, wandering blindly into other peoples’ photos and shoving folk out of the way to make sure they got their shots. There are others like that as well. The guide is very good though, moving them out of the way so everyone gets the photos they’re after.
Antelope Canyon is a slot canyon. It’s a rock formation in the middle of the desert that has been worn through by water, wind and sand, which forms smooth, wave-like folds inside, in streaks of red, orange, brown and white. In the middle of the day, the sun shines directly into the slot, so you get a brilliant beam of light, right in the middle of the canyon. The guides have figured out that if they throw the extra fine sand up into the sunbeam, it highlights the beam in a white light that really does look unearthly. It’s altogether quite lovely, apart from the annoyance of far too many people being there at the one time.
I need to refresh away from the crowds, so after the tour I go to Glen Canyon recreation area, ten minutes away. It’s covered by my park pass, so I’m now ahead. I ask the ranger at the entrance where I can swim and he tells me to go past the family beach to a place called The Cove. I find it, change into my swimmers, then have to scramble down a rock-face to get close to the water. The first scramble gets me to a broad platform which is still about five metres above the water. I then spy a platform big enough for two at a squeeze, and climb down to that one. The water here is amazing. From a distance it looks bright blue, especially against the orange and white of the surrounding desert and rocks, but up close, it looks green. It’s the perfect temperature to cool me down and I spend some time diving in and out before I have to climb back up the rock and drive the last few hours back to Flagstaff.
I’m booked into the same hostel, so go straight there and unload the car. Scott invites me over for a get-together with some other couchsurfers, so I do a quick change and off I go. An Australian guy, two Danish guys, Scott and his son and I drive in convoy to Amanda’s place. She lives a little out of the city in a caravan on a block of land that belongs to another lady. The other lady’s husband was diagnosed with cancer, so decided he would start on some projects on the block while he still could. First, he built a lake, with an island in the middle of it, then a tree house, with a zip line that runs across the lake. Then he built a summer house, which is a wooden bedroom, with a fire pole down to a bathroom downstairs. There is an outdoor kitchen near the lake, and Scott has recently added a massive outdoor movie screen. It’s like a mini fantasy land.
The guys cook dinner and come up with Danish meatballs, and Cajun catfish Po’boys, which is catfish rubbed with Cajun spices, then served with tomato and lettuce in a crusty bread roll. We also have some delicious Danish bread. After dinner, we head into the outdoor movie field, for a quick Wii session and a movie. It's a brilliant way to spend the evening. I think I should Couchsurf more. By the end of the movie. the temperature has dropped and we’re shivering, so we head to our respective accommodations to recoup.
Solo in Sedona
Everyone in the room is up and about early and it’s impossible to sleep through, so I get up a little earlier than intended and head to the Farmer’s Market. I’m going to try and meet Scott and Amanda there, but don’t want to wake them, so I send a text. The Farmer’s Market is small, so I’m over it pretty quickly and back to the hostel, grabbing a coffee on the way. Seems no-one wants to get out of bed this morning, so I set off for Sedona on my own.
The drive to Sedona takes about an hour. It’s a pretty little village in the middle of a bunch of red rocks and canyons and is firmly on the tourist map, so being a weekend, the town is bustling. I follow my now-established pattern and find the visitor centre for advice, then pick a hike. Again, my parks pass covers most of this area. I’m becoming braver. I decide to try Cathedral Rock, which is labelled as strenuous. It starts of pretty easy, but it’s all uphill and gets steeper and steeper. Eventually, I’m scrambling up the rock face. I think once you have to use your hands as well, it should be labelled as bouldering. I do get to the top and there are spectacular views across the valley.
Sedona is a bit of a hippy town as new agers believe there are energy vortexes in certain spots that have mystic qualities. There are a lot of health retreats, crystal shops and so on. I meet a couple on my way down who are looking for the vortex that is meant to be near the rock. I ask them what they are going to do if they find it – do you meditate or… – and they have no idea. I don’t bother asking them how they’re going to know when they’ve found it, as I assume I will get some kind of touchy-feely answer. I wish them luck and head to the next hike, funnily enough called “Mystic”. It’s not particularly mystic. It’s a flat hike that doesn’t lead anywhere, so once I get to the end, which is just another road, I have to turn around and come back. That one is a little disappointing, but the scenery is quite interesting – it fits my image of Arizona, as it’s all red dirt with a few trees and clumps of cacti. It’s desert-hot here and dry, dry, dry. No breeze gets down this low and the earth is baking.
That’s about all I can manage in the heat, so I wander through the town and don’t buy anything, but enjoy window shopping. Aiming for a relaxing evening deciding on my next destination, I head back to Flagstaff relatively early, planning to stop in at the river to dip my feet…or I would have if I’d found it. Instead, I end up at a viewpoint that overlooks the river. That will have to do.
For dinner, I run across the road from the hostel to Altitudes and order a steak sandwich. A steak the same size costs $19, but served on a garlic bread baguette it is only $14. There’s some logic missing here. It is delicious and the garlic bread is really garlicky, so I won’t be bitten by vampires tonight.
The remainder of the evening is spent plotting and planning. By the time I go to bed, I still haven’t decided where I’m going tomorrow, but I do know the buses for all the places I’m considering are not until evening, so I have time to decide. I don’t know why this decision is proving so difficult. Is it just because my one-month trip has now passed the two-month point?
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