Prattle & Jaw

Two blogs about a whole lot of nothing

Canyon De Chelly to Alpine

I can’t really believe I’m still in Arizona right now but I’ll get to that.

I wake up at 7am on the dot. I’ve slept well and I can just peek the blue sky outside. It’s a bit of a luxurious morning – I don’t really have to leave until midday so I loll about in bed for a bit with Ellen (not the talk show, the original Ellen) on the TV. I’m surprised when it makes me laugh out loud. It was a really good show.

I roll out of bed, shower and hit breakfast for some eggs and toast, then have a look at the gift shop. I really want to get a book about the Navajo but they’re very, very expensive, as gift shops often are. I’ll have to check on Amazon. I head back, change and check out the pool for an hour or so. I read my book about the Glen Dam, have a dip, then get itchy feet and leave at 11.10.

It’s a lovely day, but there are clouds in the distance. I’ve only got two hours until I reach the Petrified Forest, something I’m not quite sure about, but it’s en route and I’ve heard it’s good so what the heck. I’m driving on the highways today. I must admit it’s a relief. I know where I’m going (the GPS is over our dispute and is telling me the truth), and it’s smooth. The highways around here are just two lanes – one in either direction. I’m glad it’s no bigger. I learn to appreciate roads on this trip. After an hour I reach the Hubble Trading Post, established in 1870 as a trading post and all-round gossip sted for Navajo, Hopi, Auni, Acoma, Pima, Tohono O’odham and Apache Indians. If you’re wondering, John Hubble of the trading post is a relation of Edwin Powell Hubble, of Hubble Telescope. It’s a fantastic group of buildings. I wander around and look at old stuff. I love it. I buy an ice-cream.

Then it’s back to the road. It doesn’t take long to hit the Petrified Forest, but first I decide to go the back route instead of via the highway but regret it the moment I turn off. It’s dusty and bumpy and God only knows where I’ll end up. Turns out I end up on a railway line, the Santa Fe railway line (the same one that rides through Flagstaff). On the other side, the road turns private so I have to turn back. Oh well.

First off, I ride through the Painted Desert. I’m literally the only person here. I put it down to holidays being over and the fact that the weather is grey and windy. But it’s still beautiful and most odd.

Only me

Turning back on myself, I stop on Route 66. Alongside the highway, old telegraph poles mark the original route of 66. There is a beautiful rusted car to commemorate it. I stare down the telegraph poles (you can just see them to the left of the car) and try to imagine it. I wish I could go back in time, ride that route and get my kicks.

Instead, I head to the Petrified Forest. I’ve no idea what to expect, but am pretty much instantly impressed. Again, I’m just about the only person there so get to stand alone on the viewpoints and jump over stuff when I want to.

It’s beautiful.

Back in the late 1800s and the early 1900s, people came here, from Route 66, and took what they wanted. There wasn’t all that much left when it was established as a national park in 1962.

The short of the long is that around 200 million years ago, there was a forest here. Trees fell, and were covered in all kinds of stuff. Decay was slowed and stopped, and silica-laden water seeped through the wood and replaced the original wood tissues with silica, thereby petrifying the wood. As the ground was eroded many, many moons later, the trees were uncovered, and would fall and break into log-sized lumps. And here we are.

First off I visit Newspaper Rock, so called as the rocks are covered with petroglyphs, just like the ones at Glen Canyon. There are a few other people peering over the edge, and an elderly park ranger who is all too willing to lend me his binoculars. They’re incredible to see up close, as it were. There are all kinds of carvings, animals, hoof prints, people, and so much more. We all talk about them and what they mean. Park Ranger says that various Indian tribes would travel along the once big river that was here, and would leave messages in the stone, probably along the lines of how good the hunting was, or who had been past here and when, that kind of thing. It’s fascinating. Zoomed in here so you can see them more clearly.

I work my way through Blue Mesa and petrified wood. It’s quite remarkable. 

The chippings and some of the petrified wood look as if you could just pick them up and lob them on the fire, but to the touch, they are nothing but rock. It’s fascinating and I’m surprised at just how fascinating I find it. I’m tempted to nick a bit but don’t. I must have grown up.

It takes about 2 hours to do the park, and I’m very happy with it.

This sign catches my eye on the way out and I buy a big lump. They only had Bud so I didn’t buy beer.

I discover that it’s just under 2 hours to Alpine which is good news. I thought it would be much longer. I’m in a great mood and head out.

US highway 180 is the longest straight road I've ever been on. It just goes on and on and on.

For over an hour and a half, I don’t see a single car. No joke. It’s just me. I actually start to wonder if there’s something I don’t know about, when I finally see someone else. The last time I was on a road so deserted was in 1999, in Texas. Back then, you’d flash your lights or wave whenever you passed a car. It was like being in a club. I think of the bazillion bikers I’ve seen on this trip and how they always acknowledge each other. I’m a bit jealous whenever I see this. I try to wave at the first car I pass, knowing that they can’t have seen a car for a pretty long time either, but I’m not sure if they wave back.

The rain clouds in the distance look threatening, and it’s not too long before I reach them and they break. It’s pretty nice. It rains and rains and I wind my way up to 9000 feet. With every minute I’m leaving the heat behind and seeing more and more pine trees. Suddenly I’m high up, and surrounded by trees and green stuff. The air is cool and smells of pine. I’m not entirely sure where I’m going, but I know the name and I should pass a sign at some point. There are hardly any cars on the road.

Every building I pass is made of logs. It’s how I imagine Canada, not Arizona. I roll into Tal-Wi-Wi lodge just before 6. Perfect. They have a room, log, of course, and I am so excited about it. It’s very, very quiet and there are deer in the field opposite me.

I sit outside on my balcony, and look at the view. It’s pretty chilly so I put on jeans and head to the saloon for some dinner. I meet one of the owners who is Welsh, of all things. We talk about Alpine and how she thinks it’s the most beautiful place in Arizona. It’s probably one of them.

I eat my dinner and read a paper that has stories about the history of Phoenix and an Oglala Sioux warrior called Red Cloud. On the way back to my room I use the paper as shelter from the rain that has started again.

Back in my room I’m already looking forward to seeing the outside in the daylight – hopefully without rain but I won’t be too bothered if it is wet. It’s a change.

No AC tonight. Nothing but peace and quiet. Tomorrow I head towards White Sands, New Mexico. Last time I was there I saw a Stealth Bomber fly over. I’m crossing my fingers I’ll see the same thing again. 

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