Mar 9-12 Monument Valley

The weather system that continued to blow through the Southwest followed us to Monument Valley and we found ourselves snowed in the first day with the visitor center closed; it was basically a white out and we were stuck indoors with limited wi fi.  It’s rare thing to see Monument Valley in the snow; we had been here before nearly ten years ago, though seeing it again after so long brought the grandeur of the place back into the mind’s eye. 

By late morning, the buttes were hugged by cloud cover that dissipated as the day went on, releasing blue sky that encouraged the melt.  As soon as the roads became passable we decided to visit the Goulding Trading Post and the flurries picked up again as we made our way back to the RV park.  We extended our stay an extra day as we had a horseback ride booked but that wasn’t going to happen so we rescheduled. 

Based on weather forecasts during our planning phase, we hadn’t planned to be in such frigid temps.  We had picked up antifreeze in Page as a backup plan and were certainly were glad we did.  We poured antifreeze in the tanks and set a warming lamp by the fresh water and water pump but despite our efforts, including running faucets in the middle of the night, our pipes feeding the freshwater froze; the temperatures plunged into the teens. In the morning we turned the rig around to get the now blazing sun against the water intake side to heat things up.  

We eventually ventured to the MV Visitor Center which was virtually deserted and poked around the shop and picked up a Navajo medicine man carving, our standard magnet, and a book on the Dine’ as I am forever fascinated by the culture.  

When we got back to BigB we coaxed the water through the pipes and were relieved when they started flowing again.  

We decided to drive up to Mexican Hat and encountered the site immortalized by Forrest Gump – the scene where he’s running through Monument Valley and decided he didn’t want to run anymore; people were standing in the road trying to get selfies, even though you’re not supposed to stop in the road they of course slowed down traffic.  It was the wrong time of day to get a photograph anyway.  

We decided to lunch in Mexican Hat at the same restaurant we ate at nearly ten years before.  Another Navajo Taco..

We got back for our scheduled horseback ride.  It had gotten up into the low forties and was sunny.  The KOA (a chain of RV parks) we were staying at had a horse stable attached to it.  We met Guy who was the older Navajo gentleman in charge along with Priscilla and Harrison.  Harrison was set to be our guide for the day.  He was 26 years old and his family owned a large chunk of land in the valley.  He was a mechanic who also specialized in training horses.  

We set out to ride along the mesa that skirted the buttes.  

It was great having a conversation with Harrison – I was more interested in what he had to say than the ride as the day was getting increasingly cold and was starting to chill my bones.  

The struggle with the younger Navajo generation as they want to see progress but the elders are concerned that they will go the “white man” way. Meaning they would lose their balance, and when this happens they suffer afflications that need to be healed by their medicine men and ceremonies.  I had noticed the large branches stacked up like tee pees and suspect those were the sweat lodges they used for purification and healing.  

There is also a conundrum of availability of basic staples closer to them instead of having to drive all the way to Page to get their shopping done at reasonable prices.  If they shop at Goulding they are paying exhorbinant prices for basic goods.  

Navajo country is such a spiritual and profound place and it could easily be overrun with opportunistic developers destroying what is dearly sacred (they have already experienced this creep with the Uranium mining). We rode through the ancient mesas, their recesses still covered in spits of snow.  

We finished the day feeding the horses carrots and I was glad to stretch my aching knees and looking forward to a glass of wine. Fortunately BigB wasn’t far away, set in the backdrop of the valley.  

I’m obviously feeling the bite from the cold

As I watched the day fade, the pink hues of twilight softened the deep magenta sandstone, the brushstokes of evening blended with the landscape growing deeper as the stars began to rise.  

It’s fascinating to think that this place used to be oceanic and these buttes were part of a watery underworld.  With the way things are going it might once again reclaim that heritage.  

This landscape is not a national park, it is part of the Navajo Nation. The massive red buttes stand guard in a sacred bond; a testimony to the endurance and beauty of the the Dine’. 

Mar 9 – Slot Canyons, Antelope Valley

The warm and welcoming curvatures of Antelope Valley’s Slot Canyons inspire you with a sensuality molded through centuries of monsoonal heat and floods.  The Navajo refer to the formations in the region as Navajo Sandstone; the reddish-orange volcanic sand mixed with water and baked by the sun is what they Navajo also use to build their tradition homes known as hogans.  

While part of the Navajo Nation, these canyons were never inhabited by the tribe due to the violent flash floods; species such as snakes and scorpions are some of the unfortunate victims that get swept into the slots.  Local guides collect them as they clear the canyons of the debris; diamond backs that have been stranded in the upper reaches have been known known to drop onto the canyon floor.  

One of the more striking formations is the “Lady in the Wind.”  She is nature’s version of Michaelangelo’s Slaves; figures emerging from the marble that are housed at the entrance of the Academia in Florence where his famous statue of David resides. But the Lady in the Wind is not part of any human construct; she is force of nature, forged from elemental earth and water: The Lady becomes one with the storm.  

The Lady in the Wind

The fluctuating light plays with the sloping crescents and arches throwing shades of red, yellow, orange while refracting hints of bluish black on some of the sharper edges.  

The Navajo insist on wearing masks; the tribe took a terrible hit during the pandemic so no smiling faces in the photo which is a minor sacrifice in respect for the Dine’.

Mar 5-7 The Grand Canyon

After a rough weather day of being pummeled by sleet, buffeting wind, and massive tumbleweeds that we thought would eat our rig, we reached the Grand Canyon Trailer Village worrying about our pipes freezing as the snow began to fall.  We hooked up the utility lamp to heat up the fresh water tank area and stuffed towels in the bay.  We ran the taps in the middle of the night – so far so good.  By morning we awoke to a carpet of snow and for a moment our worries were swept away by the crystal reflections that accompanied the melt as the sun shot through the blue sky.  

Brrrr!!

The park does a great job with the shuttle service and we walked from our site to the bus stop arriving at Mather Point within a few minutes.  My mind and heart are simply not big enough to embrace this epic visage of a place.  It stuns you into submission at every turn. The cold and the infinite landscape dissipated the usual burn of a long walk. 

The trees were covered with a dusting of snow and you would see on occasion an old and twisted juniper standing guard; a rebel against the elements.  

The conditions were slushy with a dash of ice and if you weren’t careful you could have a nasty spill.  I’m surprised more people don’t actually plummet to their deaths with their cavalier selfies at the cliff’s edge. We stuck with safer options.

Sadly, our dear companion Dave-the-Minion did a runner on the trail.  We tried to find him but came up empty handed with no response from lost and found yet.  We can only hope he has been retrieved by a loving family.  We’ve had him for years and he has been with us on so many journeys.  I hope he didn’t take offense to no longer being the “only one” since we brought baby Yoda (Grogu) into the fold.  

Dave we are going to miss you:(

Cold, tired and equally exhilarated, we had a nice late lunch at the El Tovar Lodge dining room, I had a Navajo Taco which was really satisfying with Indian bread as a base. We picked up a few souvenirs along the way including a book on Navajo rugs as I want to understand the underlying meaning of the designs.  

I managed to squeeze in a few pictures on my dad’s 1977 Pentax; I will be taking BW 35mm Ilford film images as we move around the national parks; I hope to capture those places he never got a chance to get to.  It will be exciting to see the end result! 

We woke up to freezing temps with worse weather on the way.  We decided to go to Yaki point which was spectacular with the new snow and the shifting cotton ball clouds, but we could see the weather system coming in and got caught in it on our way to the visitor center from the Pipe Creek Vista.  It was horizontal snow pelting us as we made our way back to Big B.  We decided the weather was too harsh and socked in to enjoy the rest of our stay so packed up and meandered are way carefully through the park roads.

We left by way of Williams and Flagstaff and drove in blizzard-like conditions along Route 66 until we turned off to Page.  The weather finally broke and ice started peeling off the rig.  The landscape along the Vermillion Cliffs National Monument made for an eye-popping end of the day.  The sky was clear and we thawed out at the Lake Powell Campground – winding down with a classic southwest sunset. Tomorrow will be a rest day and a chance to give the rig a desperately needed clean.

Mar 4 – Death Valley – Life Below Sea Level

The Mesquite Sand Dunes – it was hot

Forged from massive tectonic disruptions, most of Death Valley sprawls like the crust from a loaf of rustic multigrain bread (think Dave’s Killer bread), it’s design carved by flash floods vs the smooth, endless sands of Lawrence of Arabia lore (save for the occasional dunes). What stands out are the mineral deposits of the Artist’s Palette off of Badwater Basin road: Chloride and varying mineral deposits mix with rarified storms to create a swirl of watercolor that seems displaced in such a stark landscape like some sort of cruel tease. 

The beauty of a cruel tease

Further down Badwater Basin road  is well – Badwater Basin; a salt flat fed by an equally salty acquifer.  

Badwater Basin – lowest point in North America at 282 feet below sea level

This is a place of mirages and cauldrons, blinding light and mineral nightmares that burst at the seams more so than any other place on the planet. 

We did not encounter any skeletal remains like you see on the post cards because most animals, save humans, know this isn’t exactly paradise.  

We drove through endless terrain with no cell signal on our way to Kingman, AZ.   You drive through here on faith that you don’t break down because there wasn’t a lot of traffic heading our way and no reception that we could rely on. 

We will be going from below sea level to 7000 feet at the Grand Canyon with the possibility of snow.  Bracing for the extremes. 

Feb 28 – Mar 3 Alabama Hills by way of Morro Bay

We bid farewell to Santa Rosa but didn’t go across the Golden Gate and headed for San Jose instead to connect with the 101.  It took us a couple of hours to get through the Bay Area traffic and were glad when the 101 finally narrowed.  Otherwise the road was pretty non-descript except for the endless miles of agriculture and vines – this must be a place that supplies grapes to places like Gallo (I’m making that assumption as it looks like a mass production vs carefully cultivated vintages).  We stopped for lunch in Monterey Bay (whipping up a salad and tea in the RV) in the Fort Ord area.  Another beautiful day – we have been so lucky.  We reached Morro Bay about 4:30 – it was warm and we are practically on the beach with a massive haystack rock right on the ocean known as Morro Rock.  It’s really quite something.  I put on my sandals, finally releasing my feet from their winter bondage.  I had to peel down into a blouse as the weather was in the high 70’s; I couldn’t remember the last time I was in warm weather like that! We went for a sunset walk and then sat by the fire with a shot of whiskey – the temperature dropped quickly so we cozied back into the RV to read and further reflect on the day.   

Amazing view from our spot at the RV park

We woke up to a view of the beach and Morro Rock.  As we had a long drive that day to Alabama Hills in Lone Pine we got it together early.  We met up with one of Bob’s friends from his Adidas days and had a nice walk along the waterfront and paused to watch the sea otters lounging by the shore.  It got warm quickly and I changed into my fair weather clothing.  We drove the route to Bakersfield through endless commercial wineries and agricultural area. We heard on the radio that San Luis Obispo had the highest gas prices in the country as we realized when we took a few sips at $5.29 per gallon until we could find cheaper prices!  We stopped off for (cheaper) gas on Highway 46 where the fatal crash that killed James Dean is memorialized.   California had just lifted the mask mandate and it appeared most everyone got the message.  The station had a large shop with “frogs balls” and Route 66 memorabilia even though we weren’t on Route 66…

We stopped in a ghost town called Bodfish and they had a USS Arizona memorial of all things with actual artifacts from the ship!  I will be there in April to commemorate my father’s service so was rather excited to discover this gem in the middle of nowhere.  I don’t know what possessed such a remote location to put these artifacts on display – which made it all the more impressive.  

We reached the Eastern Sierra Scenic Byway with it’s basalt rocks tossed all over the valley and cones that could easily be mistaken for recent volcanic activity.  It was barren and we couldn’t figure out what people did for a living outside of working at the power plants or China Lake.  Then the Sierra’s started peaking out as we neared Lone Pine and we got excited when we spotted the first outcroppings of the Alabama Hills while driving along Whitney Portal Road.

We paid $8.00 per night for the Tuttle Creek Campground.  There were not that many people around us.  The place is clean and well organized with pit toilets and a camp host.  The lovely creek was behind us and was the only sound as we watched the sun go down behind the Sierra’s.  We are in a new moon phase and I got up around 2:00 a.m. to see if I could see the Milky Way but there was some cloud cover on the horizon. Otherwise the night skies were clear and I was blessed with a shooting star.  

Night skies at Alabama Hills!

Then we woke up to this view.  

Too cold to get out of bed though

What I love about BigB is we can switch on the 12v heater and as soon as the sun comes up the battery starts charging up again from our solar panels. We had filled up our water tank and have our LP for coffee, heat and the refrigerator.  We are self-contained in this euphoric glamping world.  When dry camping (or boondocking) we read and journal.  I can work on my devices (including the internet if we have signal) and juice them up as needed with the inverter; our solar panels keep us well supplied. After two long days of driving we we are in no rush and can poke around the hills at our leisure #lovinthervlife 

We are at an elevation of 5000 feet and the hills themselves are in walking distance though the walk back turned out to be a couple of miles of uphill terrain and it felt hot even though it was in the 70’s.  The sky was a brilliant blue at this elevation and the sun was equally intense.  I thought about the animals the inhabit the region and their solitude.  

This place and time was like a dream come true, though no, it was really the beginning of a transcendence into a different reality.  The creek by our campsite paid no heed to my toes and ears, yet soothed my ears; the sun was indifferent to my skin – I felt bathed in my entirety by the high Sierra despite the burn.  

It was quiet, solitary much like the Redwoods but more distant, higher with thinner air and the absence of shelter except amongst the towering formations rooted beyond my imagination.  All this while Russia lays siege to the Ukraine, we weep and pray for the people of the Ukraine; we wish them the same solitude, instead of the ragged remnants of what was normal, brought by unnatural moving thunder.  

Inhaling the smoke of our fire, we recede as the sun sets behind the mountain range, exacting and reliable, we can always count on the horizons as if they say at least some things change but are not chaotic.  

We finished the day with one of the oranges from Sonoma – a mixture of citrus and smoke like the many fine wines of the region. 

Day’s End

Alabama Hills last day.

We stopped by the Gunga Din day use area on our way out of the hills. It has a large plaque dedicated to the movie that was filmed along the trail. Every angle of these formations connects in a different way and beckons exploration.  It’s not a long trail unless you go want to go bouldering – then you have infinity at your disposal.  

The Gunga Din Trail

We stopped by the rather touristed Mobius Arch with Mt. Whitney perfectly framed in its portal; was it a chance display by nature or just how we humans interpret it?   The trail was nicely laid out with more formations but these ones had caves honed from the sides and the backdrop of Mt. Whitney was clearer.  The rocks were rounded as if smoothed by an artisan well versed in geometry.  

The boys had to be in the shots of course as they rather liked the Alabama Hills.

We overnighted in Death Valley at Stovepipe (it’s a parking lot with about as much appeal as its name…. complete with generators going).  it was 85 degrees and we were thankful we had decided to stay in Alabama Hills an extra night instead of Death Valley.  It was warm enough so we turned on the generator for a little while and the AC to cool the cabin down.  It was noisy but it worked.  

We have certainly had the extremes – with Mt. Whitney being the highest point and Death Valley being the lowest – it is a bit like the circle of life

Feb 24 – 27 Sonoma and SFO

We bugged out on Thursday and stopped by the Redwoods Founders Grove on the way out. This is an astoundingly ancient place that predates Christ and feels like seeds sprung from something primordial.  The fallen trees must have created their own thunder when they fell. The sun crept through just enough to light the way in a lovely diffusion; the paths were lined with years of needles forming a carpeted trail through the woods.  Otherwise the grove was left to its natural state – I imagined it hadn’t changed much over the last several hundred years. There is a lot of wisdom there – but they speak a different language from modern civilization; we dare to listen but not to learn. 

We continued down the coast to Mendocino County and it’s folk-art rolling green hills dotted with vineyards and arrived in Santa Rosa at our friend’s house (Peter Testie) where we will stay for the next three days.

On Friday I went on a tour with Peter of several Sonoma wineries.  It was a beautiful day lounging in the sun tasting wine.  We found an excellent wine at Hanna winery called Alchimie that is a mix including grapes from rare vines of which there are only an acre in France, two acres in Australia and one acre owned by Hanna vineyards in Sonoma.  I picked up another nice Pinot and Rose’. 

“Wine is sunlight, held together by water”

Galileo

We laid low on Saturday getting the RV organized and cleaned up from beach and forest debris – you almost don’t want to sweep it away as it’s all part of the memories but you can’t get too nostalgic about dirt.  

On Sunday we headed to San Francisco – it was a stunner of a morning and we stopped on the south side of the Golden Gate Bridge and walked the trails to the Battery Park viewpoints.  My father had come through San Francisco during WWII while serving in the Navy – the old bunkers were still there – decommissioned and riddled with graffiti.  

It has a great view of the bridge and the bay and all the shipping traffic.  

Golden Gate from Battery Park

We parked at Ghirardelli Square, had coffee and picked up chocolate and trinkets before heading out to the wharf.  There is a great view of Alcatraz from the end of Pier 39.   The pier was fun and kitschy with all the smells, eateries and vendors with the carousel at the end.  

One way to get off Alcatraz!

We were set on getting some Dim Sum in Chinatown and went to the Imperial Palace (Peter’s recommendation).  It’s located off Washington and it mostly caters to the locals.  It was busy and noisy and reminded me of being back in China.  We were the only white people in the whole joint.  We had pork steamed buns, fish dumplings, wontons, fried rice and a pineapple custard steamed bun for dessert.  It was excellent.  If you are looking for the typical western intimate atmosphere this is not the place – it’s authentic – not the Westernized idea of what a Chinese restaurant should be.

Imperial Palace – Chinatown

After getting our fill of Cantonese delights, we left to find the Dragon Gate, passing the legendary cable cars that were practically empty.  Unfortunately the street trolleys along the wharf were not running – probably because we were off season.  We may catch them up on our way back up to Portland.  We poked around the shops, taking in the atmosphere then headed back to the Ghirardelli square where we shared one of their sundaes and then drove up to the famous winding Lombard street.  I don’t know how all those structures were ever built on those steep hills.  The end of another fantastic day in the Bay Area – the weather was perfect and the sites did not disappoint!

Feb 22-23 Redwood National Park

We got up early to head down to Redwood National Park.  The coastline south of Bandon to California is amazing – better than Cannon Beach and rivaling Bandon itself = it seems almost sacrilegious coming from an Oregonian but it’s the truth (for me at least). Except for maybe the thundering scapes of Cape Perpetua – I’ll make that concession.  

Spectacular coastline on a spectacular day

It was cold but the sun was out and the mist was coming off the road and even swirling off the backs of cows! That sort of backlighting you can only dream about but just add cows.  It added to the magic and mystical sense you get when you enter the Redwoods.  

We arrived at the Prairie Creek Redwoods National Park Visitor Center – my eyes kept watering – partly from the cold but I think also from my eyes being stretched so wide trying to take it all in.  I took my wide-angle lens for which I was thankful.

Bob went ahead to see if he could make it to Fern Canyon which is 9.5 miles round trip along the James Irvine trail (where they filmed Jurassic Park: The Lost World).

The mist was still persisting in some spots but making allowances for the sun to dance among the massive trunks.  This created a sense of euphoria; there was no one else on the trail to bear witness – I stood in solitude amongst the giants (one of those zen moments I can now go back to when I meditate).  It was so quiet save for light rustling of the wind – or it could have been wood nymphs tracking my progress.  

Or, perhaps the trees themselves demanded solitude considering some were hundreds if not thousands of years old.  They had certainly earned that right.

Perspectives

The trails were similar to what I have experienced in Forest Park in Portland but naturally you cannot compare as you are less of speck of humanity there than you are amongst the giant Redwood groves.

Yeah… we’re tourists after all

We headed to our campsite – the Giant Redwoods RV Park in Meyers Flat.

Photo op with the boys in one of the drive through trees.

We found ourselves nestled amongst the Redwoods in a quiet a well-kept RV park. Being off season it was quiet except for the rooster first thing in the morning.

We ended the day with a gin and tonic with a fire to take the edge off the chill and contemplate the stately magnificence of our surroundings.

#focaldreams #leisurevans #photography #travelphotography #rvtrippin @focaldreams/wisdomofthedrift

Feb 21, 2022 – Bandon, Oregon

Bandon is our first stop on our way to the Southwest in “BigB.” It was windy with passing showers (some pretty intense as there is a cold front coming through the coast). The beach at Bandon never fails to amaze; atmospheric and alien-like. As we had imagined our days would go on this trip we had tea in the rig after our hike (just in time as another front came through!) then stopped in old Bandon for some lunch and our requisite magnet (we have a board and will be collecting magnets at each stop where possible – we may run out of room – we’ll see). I pulled out my Lensbaby Edge 35 lens to get some atmospheric bokeh – it was fun until I couldn’t feel my hands anymore.