Our last full day

I cannot believe it. Tal and I have looked forward to this adventure for months. This morning, though, we are packing our things here in the Best Western Lake Powell, will walk across Lake Powell Boulevard for a breakfast at the Glen Canyon Steak House just as we did yesterday (though later, thank goodness) and then board the coach to head back to St George, for one night in a room at the College Inn, our car, I-40 east. It's over.

But, of course, it isn't. We have today -- all day -- and many wonderful miles. On the itinerary are at least five notable places of interest: (1) Navajo Bridge (see the blog of 3 October for my first impression of that location as we travelled to St George), the North Rim of the Grand Canyon with (2) lunch in the dining room of the lodge and (3) a walk to Bright Angel Point, (4) the trading post at Jacob Lake, (5) the Le Fevre Overlook for a view of the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument. So, what's the problem. Why am I -- as usual -- anticipating the negative rather than simply living what is before me?

I have taken up keeping a journal of favorite quotations. It's helpful in many ways. Today I have found a few words that may help keep me from anticipating too much what tomorrow is going to bring. These are words written by Thomas Transtromer, a Swedish writer, poet and translator, from a work "Sentry Duty," which he wrote after being taken into the Swedish army for several weeks:

Task: to be where I am.
Even when I’m in this solemn and absurd
role: I am still the place
where creation does some work on itself.

So, my task for today is to be where I am. That's it. After all, creation is at work. Thanks Mr Transtromer!

An arrival ... at last

Our destination: St George, Utah! What a welcome sight the College Inn was late this afternoon.

The last leg of our Utah-bound journey, following the stop at Navajo Bridge, was entertaining in many ways. Here's an annotated list:

Precipitation. Since making our way through the pass at Albuquerque yesterday we watched clouds form and disperse and form again in the western sky, the sun faithfully shining on us. By mid-day today it was obvious that there was water in those clouds and some anger. Eventually they became heavy enough that, in the distance, they produced vivid lightening and curtains of dark rain -- that stayed suspended, not reaching the ground.

The unassuming turn off at Jacob Lake to the north rim of the Grand Canyon. So tempting, but not yet ... not yet. Making that turn will come some ten days from now at the end of the trip, a grand finale to our Road Scholar wanderings.

A time change at the Arizona/Utah state line. Arizona doesn't participate in any of the daylight savings foolishness the rest of us do. I've heard it said that daylight savings makes about as much sense as cutting the top off a blanket, sewing that piece on the bottom and calling the blanket longer.

Towns at the state border. This particular location boasts sister cities, Colorado City on the Arizona side and Hildale in Utah, straddling the line. They're rather renowned in that they're actually a single polygamous compound.

The descent into Hurricane. With a long 7% grade of switchbacks, narrow road and run-away truck ramps arriving in Hurricane is an impossible to miss event. Tal drove and I helped -- with an occasional "oh my" and white knuckles gripping the seat on either side of my knees. According to the map, getting to Hurricane also means one has left the Colorado Plateau. Whew.

All was ready for us when we arrived … the door code worked, the keys to our room were where we had been told they would be, our room was more than welcoming. After a short rest we went in search of supper, finding our way, sort of mistakenly, to an exquisite restaurant, the Painted Pony, in our travel-weary, rumpled, bleary-eyed state – at the beginning of a booked Sunday evening. We were seated anyway, kindly, and had the most wonderful meal I can remember. My only regret is not having had the camera with me, so beautiful was Tal’s French onion soup – served in a large hollowed out onion, the melted cheese running down its sides, a shaft of sunlight falling across Tal’s place setting. Absolute perfection.

Day Four
Three States: New Mexico, Arizona, Utah
454 miles