RETIREMENT TRIP #6

      MONUMENTS OF NATURE    

                  September 2015             

In the morning sun, Navajo Country is beautiful.  Outside of Chinle to the northwest as we drove toward Kinyata, we passed expanses of yellow snakeweed and black-eyed Susans.  Several small ponds gave evidence of recent rain.

“Are those dairy cows?” asked Andy, when we passed a small grouping of animals near Chilchinbito.

Near Kinyata, Arizona,
Church Rock rises sharply as a landmark.

Mesas of sandstone north of
Chinle accent the skyline.

I couldn’t tell from the distance, but the village had a new housing development of 30 or 40 beginner-family ranch homes—all with bright red, blue and green roofs—that still looked maintained and clean.

The sun burned off any remnants of morning haze by 10 a.m., as we neared Kinyata.

Closer and closer to El Capitan we stopped
for pictures of the monolith. 

Church Rock stood out on Sunday morning against a magnificent backdrop of sandstone formations.  A nearby sign said, “Blowing dust area,” but there was no evidence of it on this calm, hot morning.

“That’s El Capitan peak,” said Andy, as we approached the monolith that rose dominantly many feet from the desert floor.  Cars sped past as Andy maneuvered pullouts closer and closer to the rock spire.  “It’s definitely a morning picture,” he added, as I zoomed in with each progressive stop.

Formations along Route #163
resemble those of Monument Valley.

Local vendors of Native American handicrafts were just setting up, as we drove north on Route #163 toward Monument Valley.

“We’re not going into the valley,” said Andy, “but you can still see many of the interesting land formations.”
We crossed over the state line into Utah at 10:45 a.m.  Immediately the road changed.

Monument Valley-type formations
dominate the landscape.

“It’s easy to tell which state allocated more highway money for Route #163,” said Andy, as we bumped along.  The scenery was still gorgeous.

Horses range free on the Navajo
Reservation but skittishly move
away from the camera.

 We stopped often at unpaved single-car pullouts to snap shots of the sandstone formations.  A few wisps of cloud highlighted the higher points and mesas.  A paved side road, labeled the Douglas Mesa Road, that was not on either the Arizona or the Utah map took us several miles across the Navajo Reservation plateau before the pavement turned to dirt.

From Douglas Mesa Road we could
gaze in awe at the back side of the
Monument Valley formations.

A large group of horses grazed near the road in open range. They didn’t like being photographed and skittishly moved away.

But the stop gave us some beautiful pictures of the back side of the Monument Valley formations, sights most tourists don’t bother to take in.  It was late Sunday morning, and the roadside vendors had not opened yet.  Few people were around.  A sign read, “Revival.”  I didn’t need any; this was God’s country.

At every turn the formations looked more imposing
and more impressive.

It’s precarious,” I said, as we drove past Mexican Hat, the sandstone slab balanced on top of a sandstone formation. “It’s more precarious than I remember it.”

Andy agreed.  “Another Man of the Mountain bites the dust,” he said, laughing.  “The cap rock can withstand regular rain out here, because they get so little, but just give it some wind, and it’s done for.”

If there is ever a next trip here for us,
this Mexican won't have a hat.

From near the top of the Moki Dugway
the world looks small and far away.

“This is a cool road,” said Andy, turning onto
                   
                            
                            
                            
                           
                      
                         
 Moki Dugway, 2.2 miles of steep switchbacks at a ten percent grade up the mountainside.

It didn’t take me long to remember we had done this several times years before.
“Impressive road,” he said again.
I didn’t look at the edge.
“It’s steep, but it’s graded,” he added.
 The switchbacks were dizzying.
“I just want to see how this vehicle handles in second gear,” he added.  The steering wheel shook as he pressed down on the gas pedal.
Andy reminded me how the Dugway, Utah Route #261, was built.  “They started at the top and just shoveled everything over the side in switchbacks all the way down,” he explained.
I looked on the map for some indication of elevation, but I couldn’t find any.  It was really high.
Clouds built as we made our way to Blanding, Utah.  “Thirty-percent chance of rain,” said Andy.

This small reservoir in Blanding shows little evidence of a
water shortage that plagues the area.

After checking into the motel in Blanding, we headed back out to explore.  The local reservoir seemed pretty full for late summer, and two young boys fished from the earthen dam.  But later when we passed Recapture Reservoir, we realized how badly in need of rain Blanding actually was.

“The grass is already well established on the sides,” said Andy, “so it’s been down for quite a while.”

We looked around Monticello for Abajo Mountain drive.  It took us into the mountains to the top of Manti-LaSal National Forest in the Abajo Mountains. We didn’t need air conditioning for the first time in days.  Mile after mile had signs warning about deer crossings. “297crashes this year” flashed one highway notification.  We noticed two dead animals near the roadside.
Part way up the mountain near Buckboard Campground, the aspen were starting to turn.  We could see tinges of yellow here and there. Some of the trees were dying though.  Maybe they have the same problem as we do this year with lack of rain.

The road to the peak was closed beyond Micio Lake, but it was a pleasant spot to stop and watch the geese swimming in the distance and a lovely way to end a day of exploring.