On our own again

Bringing order out of the luggage chaos, having a last breakfast with the remainder of our Road Scholar group in the comfortable lobby of the College Inn, running a load of laundry, communicating via email with the friends we are planning to meet in Arizona, plotting our course to Flagstaff ... that was the order of the morning.  By 11:00 we had set out to reverse yesterday's travel, comfortably familiar:  ascending the Colorado Plateau at Hurricane; pausing again at LeFevre Overlook with its all-encompassing view of the Grand Staircase; leaving out the side trips to Kanab and the Grand Canyon North Rim and not stopping as we traversed Marble Canyon and the Navajo Bridge for the third time.

It was at the intersection of US89A and US89 that we entered new territory of stark and inexpressible beauty.  The Vermillion Cliffs gave way to the Echo Cliffs, which were noticably tilted down on their east side.  After a while it seemed odd that the road wasn't slanted, too.  Tilting my head was an option I had to resist!

Further south past Cameron (the turn off the the Grand Canyon South Rim), the terrain changed to mounded Chinle (low rock formations that look like mashed potatoes).  Then, basalt cropped up, seemingly emerging from (and randomly scattered across) the rather flat ground.

As the basalt became more plentiful, I noticed on our Four Corners/Southwest USA map a national monument north of Flagstaff -- Sunset Crater Volcano National Monument.  Tal seemed game to take a look.  At the entrance I even managed to find in our over-stuffed travel folder his park/monument pass. Whew!  After touring the visitor center (where staff members wore black arm bands or had a black stripe across their badges for the Glen Canyon rangers killed earlier in the week) we drove about nine miles into the park getting a good look at the Sunset Crater (photo above left), the lava flows, fissures in the valley below the cinder cone, a long view of the Painted Desert in the late afternoon sun and colorful fall wildflowers. 



The Painted Desert in the late afternoon from the Painted Desert Vista
in the Sunset Crater Volcano National Monument



Apache plume (Fallugia paradoxa)
These are the plumed seeds, not the flowers
 -- which are rose-shaped and white and bloom earlier in the year.

We couldn't have asked for a more interesting place for brief exploration before entering the fray of late afternoon I-40 traffic around Flagstaff to find our hotel for the night.

Off the Colorado Plateau

Oh, my. I was determined today "to be where I am" at every moment. I entered into each stop, engaged my surroundings and the people involved; I relished the scenery, staying present to what we were doing. I succeeded, perhaps too well, in refraining from thinking ahead.

Once we left the Grand Canyon North Rim and began the final leg of our journey back to St George, we enjoyed two final stops.  The first was at Jacob Lake where restrooms, a lovely gift shop and delicious homemade cookies and hot coffee awaited.  (I made this photograph of the signature red Ponderosa pine bark at the edge of the parking lot.)  The second was at LeFevre Overlook where we could gaze out on the whole Grand Staircase.  (See the long, thin photograph at the bottom of the page, my first abysmal effort with photo merge software.)  It was a fine conclusion to be able to view from that vantage point the west-to-east progress we had made at the beginning of the trip. 

Our guides, seeming to understand that many of us were struggling with our time together coming to an end, worked at keeping the mood aboard the coach upbeat and fun.  Since we were going to pass through the northern Arizona town of Fredonia, Chrystal and Marc played video clip of  "Duck Soup," a Marx Brothers comedy about the fictional, bankrupt country of Freedonia.  And, Geri drove us through the town where she resides when she's not driving a bus, Kanab UT.  It's known as "Little Hollywood," a popular location for movies and television series.

But, the moment came when we had to make our descent from the Colorado Plateau at Hurricane Ridge and admit that our travels together were over.  I had to face a sudden encounter with the depression I knew would come. I was, indeed, present even to that wrenching inevitability.

And, it went from bad to worse! For not only were we back to interstate travel and the bright lights of malls and stopping centers, we went straight to what was by then a late dinner at Chuck-A-Rama. It was noisy and overrun on this Wednesday night. Truly a rude reentry -- into another sort of wilderness altogether!

We're in our room at The College Inn, our only real accomplishment after stepping off the bus and getting our key having been retrieving all the stuff we left locked in the car. Thanks to our efforts the place looks like a bomb went off and I'm too tired to deal with any of it.

Things will look lots better in the morning.