Breakfast at our hotel was an abject bust this morning. The oatmeal was like glue and the eggs were powdered, so the raisin bran was the only reasonable choice. We settled up with the hotel and set off for the Grand Canyon. The most direct route, seemingly the only route, was through the Navajo Indian Nation Reservation - a giant hunk of real estate. The poverty was clearly evident on the reservation. Decrepit and derelict mobile homes were scattered about with little else. The juxtaposition of views saddened me when compared to the beauty and relative opulence of the National Parks we had just driven through.
We arrived at the easternmost entrance to the south rim of the Grand Canyon and got out of the car to take a look. Both of us were entirely underwhelmed. I don't know if:
A.) it was the build up of "The" Grand Canyon,
B.) it was because we are on sensory overload or,
C.) it was because we had just been to the amazing Bryce Canyon yesterday.
I suspect some of you are seething about the heathens that weren't blown away by the Canyon, while others are elated that we too are drinking the Bryce Canyon kool-aid. Perhaps we are un-American. It is clearly a geological wonder, but visually it wasn't working for us. We gave it the old college try and stopped at most of the vista sites but when we couldn't find parking in Grand Canyon Village, we completed what can only be called a cursory drive by and headed for Jerome, AZ. By the way, the Grand Canyon Village parking lot is the exception to the recently stated empty National Parks observation we made just yesterday.
Jerome was a fun stop. It is a copper mining town from the late 1800s which remained actively inhabited until 1953 when Phelps Dodge closed the last local mine. The town remained nearly abandoned until it was rediscovered a few decades back and turned into a tourist destination. In what is becoming a recurring theme, the approach from route 89A was a steep, spectacular, twisty, turny delight with beautiful views.
While we were in Jerome we saw a tee shirt that read "Jerome, a biker city with an artist problem" and that pretty much sums it up. Cute galleries, shops, restaurants, and bars with lots of bikers dominated the town. Clearly this town is a must see if you are on vacation in nearby Phoenix or Sedona.
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| Rasta flamingos |
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| You're supposed to toss coins in the toilet to support the local historical society |
While we were wandering the streets and shops of Jerome we noticed a wildfire far in the distance.
As we drove into Sedona, our stop for the night, we came closer and closer to the fire.
As we checked in for the night we found out that tragically a plane had crashed and started the fire. The fire does seem to be contained now.
Last night Lester suggested that I start ordering premium tequila in my margaritas to make certain that I am never again served a margarita as awful as the one I had with last night's dinner. I got in touch with my cousin, who enjoys a shot of tequila every now and again, and assigned him the role of tequila sensei. Tonight I ordered Don Julio Anejo in my margarita. It was much better than last night's swill.
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After wandering the streets of Sedona following a lovely dinner, we came back to blog and do laundry. There follows a few random sights around Sedona, which is a really gorgeous little town. The last picture is the view from our hotel window tonight - payback for the spectacular views of the last two nights.
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| Sunset in Sedona |
A long drive to Santa Fe tomorrow.
A&L
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