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Ben Wilson

Ben Wilson

ben wilson This is the blog of a one Ben Wilson, a Louisville, Kentucky native who enjoys baseball, beer, music, bikes, things that fly and good food. By day he pushes pixels and makes the Internet happen for a local advertising agency. His wife, Kelly is an Ironman, and his baby Amelia is the cutest thing ever.

somewhere past Mexican Water, AZ on US160 heading towards Four Corners

Got up at the crack o’ dawn this morning (5 AM, 8AM EST) to go to the
Canyon. We let out of the hotel, and hit the McDonalds across the street.
Everything is a little more expensive here. We downed some bad coffee,
and headed to the Canyon. Might I say that it was COLD this morning. So
cold you could see your breath. However, within 1/2 an hour of being at
the Canyon, it warmed up considerably.



The Canyon is mind-bogglingly huge. I’ve don’t think I’ve ever been able
to look 5 miles in one direction and see something. There is a spire of
rock on the South side of the Canyon called the “Temple of Isis”, and as
the crow flies, it’s 5 miles from the Yavapai Point Lookout. Crazy. I
can only think that that would be huge. It is impossible to get a
relative sense of scale out here. You can see the river, but telling how
wide it is not possible. I assume that from where we saw it, it was about
500 feet wide, but it could’ve been only 50 or 1500. We checked out a
number of lookouts — Yavapai Point, Mather Point, Grandview, Moran,
Lipan, and Desert View points. All stunning in their own rights. Very
few people out this morning, too, which made it very quiet.



Desert View is neat because there is a 40 foot tall “lighthouse” structure
there, with a winding staircase and all. The view is spectacular, and
it’s only $.25 to go up. That edge of the canyon stands at 7500ft above
sea level, and going up the stairs put a hurting on Kelly and I both.
Muscles aching, lungs heaving. There were quite a few internationals
there, but mostly the French. Now, this isn’t a generalization about the
French, but tey all smelled like Karl Lagerfeld had thrown up on them.
Wow. Do they bathe in that stuff? Shoo…. stink-ay!



As we were walking out, we happened to be passed by some saffron-cloaked
Buddhist monks, which shuffled past in their yoda-like gaits. We snapped
some pictures — Kelly wondered if it was okay to do so — I said yes, but
as long as you don’t attempt to feed or approach them, just like the pair
of Mule deer we saw earlier in the morning.



Considering that there were no guided tours that day, and that the “easy”
trails that don’t require good stiff boots or crampons (boot spikes) were
on the other side of the Canyon, Kelly and I got our eyeful of the giant
hole in the ground, and we split for Tuba City.



Between the Canyon and the intersection of US64 and US160, there are
“Navajo Markets”. Literally one every mile or so, usually coinciding with
“Scenic Views”. Each of these “Indian Markets” has plenty of stuff in
them, but frankly, once you’ve seen one Kokopelli, you’ve seen them all.
The day when I say “wow, that’s in interesting interpretation of a
Kokopelli” will be… I don’t know what it will be, but I doubt that day
will come. Anywho, we stopped at two of these markets, browsed a bit, but
the spectacular things were the views there. Most of them had HUGE
canyons behinds them. Spectacular canyons, that somehow looked all the
more impressive because you COULD get a sense of scale. That, and the
cliffs there were even more forbidding. Many pictures were taken.



Speaking of cliffs, there was an interesting book at the Desert View
Lookout that details each and every known death-by-falling at the Canyon.
Recent up until November of 2001, where a woman backing up to take a
picture fell 847 feet to her death. Oddly enough, the whole event was
photographed. Lots of people fall, apparently. As the sign pointed out
“most” happened when people hopped fences. Don’t hop the fences, folks –
you’ll end up in the book.


Driving up to Tuba City on US89, you pass through the Painted Desert. It
is rather beautiful. The various strata of rock are colored from pink to
blue to gray, and even the clouds seem to take on a bit of that
coloration. After taking US160 West, we hit Kayenta, AZ, a small town,
but it has a movie theatre, so it can’t be all that bad. I had heard
about a Burger King here that has an exhibit on Navajo “Code Talkers” — a
band of Navajo utilized during WWII to act as encryption devices in the
Pacific theatre. They weren’t used in the European theatre, and I really
don’t know why. They are widely credited with winning the hard-fought
battle of Iwo Jima, as they were able to communicated freely and securely,
leaving the Japanese baffled. Now, while this is quite heroic and all –
they were to be shot if they even *might* be captured by the Japanese.
That’s what this Nicolas Cage movie “Windtalkers” is all about — i’ll
probably see it.

Anyway, the exhibit was pretty small, with a lot of interesting doo-dads
from the war, like guns, sidearms, and “wolf cards” — essentially nudie
card decks. A couple of articles on the Navajo servicemen were plastered
on the walls.


We ate outside, as it was nice, and we noticed there were quite a few
stray dogs around, some in pretty bad shape. It was sad, really, but they
mostly kept their distance, and stayed in the shade.

Back on the road after lunch, we stopped at Four Corners, USA. Four
Corners is the only point common to four states in the United States.
Thanks to manifest destiny, most of the western US was carved up in
rectangular chunks. Thanks to this speedy demarcation, Four Corners is
now yet another Navajo Market — execpt they sell Navajo Frybread,
something apparently uncommon to the other markets we found. The Navajo
Nation makes $2/person off of this little waypoint. I’ve got to wonder –
do they pay taxes in whatever quadrant of the parking lot they set their
frybread stands in? I dunno. I asked the lady back before Tuba City
whether or not they needed to charge tax, and she said that “Well, they
are telling us we have to, but we are going to have a meeting tomorrow to
discuss it”.

The Navajo nation encompasses most of the eastern half of Arizona, and as
far as I know, they pretty much have free reign over that territory. The
gas pumps are all ceritified by the “Navajo Weights and Measures Council”
and even a lot of the radio promos (“win a car!”) were only open to those
who live on the rez.

Most of the folks on the rez are getting some sort of government
assistance — SSI, Food Stamps, Welfare, etc, etc. And I can see why. We
gave them this land — which by all accounts SHOULD be their land, but
there isn’t anything on it. Farms are pretty much non-existant, as is any
real business. The tourist trade out here is pretty prevalent, but
something tells me it’s like the apple-salesmen during the Great
Depression. There are SO MANY stands out here, and most people are
hawking the same sort of stuff. And I can’t say for sure that stuff was
exactly flying off the shelves. It’s sad, really. It’s a wasteland out
here, in many regards, but I can’t say that isn’t a BAD thing. Perhaps
they like it this way. It is quite beautiful and untouched, and there
COULD be strip-malls every mile rather than small vendors hawking homemade
wares.



We just turned onto US 666 heading east up to Cortez, CO and Durango. The
rock formations just keep getting better, and the shadows of the clouds on
the plains and buttes are just gorgeous. More later.

And now for something completely different:

Kelly would like to point out that on 2 lane highways, driving is a lot
like a complicated and deadly game of leapfrog.

We stopped in Pagosa Springs, CO to catch a bite to eat, and ate at the
Hunan Chinese restaurant — in a word, unremarkable. The food didn’t
suck, per se, but it wasn’t great either. Pagosa Springs is a quaint
little town, with the San Juan River moseyingits way through town. So
far, all of the Colorado towns we’ve seen have been really neat.

As we continue on US160 headed towards “Wolf Creek Pass”. We see
mountains beginning to tower before us. We also note a sign that says
“Wolf Creek Pass Closed 7PM to 7AM Mon-Thurs. Suggest alternate route.”
After doing a cursory examination of our “alternative routes”, we find
that there aren’t any, really, and head on to the pass. The time: 6:35PM.
Wolf Creek Pass is in the San Juan Nat’l Forest, and it’s elevation is
10,000 ft. Pretty high. Kelly’s little car is struggling from lack of
oxygen, by the way. It’s tough to maintain 45 miles per hour! As we
round one of the many steep hairpin turns, the tractor trailer in front of
us has stopped in the middle of the road… I begin to shake my fist at
him in true Ben style, but then realize his impass — a herd of mountain
goats! About two dozen, nervously eyeing the other side of the road,
where two of their compatriots stand. And then, all as one, they bolt to
the other side. Wow. We’ve encountered a good amount of wildlife so far
– what could be next? I’m sorta hoping for snakes.



At the top of the pass, there is a lot of snow. It’s neat to see, really.
Hills covered with hard-packed snow, and i really wanted to have a
snowball fight, but Kelly wasn’t up for it. We do take some pictures at a
little stop-off atop the hill, though. Finally, we reach the roadblock on
Wolf Creek Pass, and we are literally the last ones allowed through for
the day. Turns out, they are doing blasting for a new tunnel down a
rather treacherous part of I160. After we get past the blockage, we make
a stop at a little babbling brook. It is SO still, so calming. Kelly and
I sit on a rock out in the middle of the stream, and just take it in.
Pictures were taken.



We wind our way through a couple of small towns on US160, and decide to
stop in Alamosa for the night. A Comfort Inn is our respite. The bed
here was HUGE. So huge, in fact, that there were THREE pillows laid
abreast on the bed. HUGE.

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May 2 2002 ~ 10:10 pm ~ Comments Off ~

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