This morning I’m up at 6:30 to spend some time with our hosts and other guests before we return to the road. The governing issues today are 480 miles over an estimated 9 hours, and the need for a new set of tires. Late yesterday afternoon we gathered the great minds together and inspected Avery's tires. I had promised him a new set for a graduation present but had hoped to squeeze an entire cross-country trip out of the rubber before us. Consensus: these tires must go, so we planned to drive to Albuquerque's Costco this morning, get the tires and be on our way. We choose a national retailer in case something happens to the tires along the way - we want to be covered under warranty.
As big box retailers are almost always located in a suburban sea of homogenous clutter we abhor having to wait here (there's nowhere to walk to – we’re trapped) to get the car back. We long to be away from the offensive generic landscape that one finds in every large city in every state in the country. Again with Stein's "there's no there, there". Finally at 12:30 in the afternoon we've got Albuquerque in the rear-view mirror and make some headway. We head north on highway 550 through the New Mexico desert, a little concerned that with a 9 hour drive we may not make it to Canyonland National Park before sunset. Alas, one of our tenants for the trip is to simply "make some plans but don’t be controlled by them".
We have riding with us today a quiet and fresh confidence that I always experience with a new set of tires. We're content. Avery takes control of the tunes and I'm surprised to have to admit that I enjoy his playlist more than the one I spent 2 weeks accumulating. I bought about 11 new albums and although all the artists are new to me they fall into a very narrow category that I'm used to . On the other hand Avery's music - though I wouldn't have chosen it during my recent search, due to its unfamiliarity - has been immensely refreshing and richly complimentary to our new surroundings. We listen to DeVotchKa while we make our way north through an expansive, mostly uninhabited landscape of rolling desert, mesas and steep cliffs, sometimes on both sides of the highway. It is spectacular.
The route we’ve chosen will take us past the town of Farmington, the economic center of that part of New Mexico. While the basic natural landscape doesn’t change much the area’s juxtaposition of unchecked human sprawl, certain lack of planning where heavy industrial installations can be located adjacent to convenience stores, and a general cacophony of building types, uses, scale, placement, etc., make the combined landscape seem harsh and unwelcoming. Certainly the quality of life here is nothing like that of Santa Fe, where critical planning governs. I remember commenting to Roger yesterday about the pleasant scale of the buildings in Santa Fe. Even a retail center I observed that had low roofs, a scale compatible with its various neighbors, and minimal and thoughtful signage that was both attractive and contextual. Roger said that the city has strict design planning requirements – and it apparently pays great dividends. The built structures there are wonderfully integrated and compatible with the natural landscape of Santa Fe – consider low, flat-topped, earth-colored structures amid a like-colored, mesa populated landscape…..fantastic.
Not so with this area of New Mexico but we’re soon out of the inhabited areas and back in the desert where, true to our experiences, we encounter a new landscape as we clip the southwestern corner of Colorado. Almost immediately we’re in a lush, green valley with small farms and rivers. It reminds me of the Shenandoah Valley of western Virginia but only in land form. The plant species are, of course, noticeably different but there’s a new color introduced here that we haven’t seen yet – a medium sage green common to many of the small (3-4 feet tall) shrubs that when seen en mass, and in front of larger, darker plants is quite vivid.
The rolling, green landscape in most of this area of Colorado gives way, subtly, to hills that begin to expose their rock substrate as we near the border and as we cross into Utah the green gives way to high desert where the predominant material is rock, the color reddish-brown and the forms truly unique and expressive - and massive. This is our 7th border crossing and we are awe-struck. We take highway 491 west to Monticello and from there travel 191 north. The scenery doesn’t diminish in it’s spiritual aura the entire way to Moab but as we approach the turn-off to Canyonlands National Park we realize that our late start this morning, and missing out turn at Farmington, has cost us precious time and we’re running out of daylight. I had planned on stopping at Canyonlands because I’d seen many different landscapes where geological eruptions or massive erosions left protruding objects in the landscape, but I hadn’t really seen vast canyons. On the other hand, as my son, the recent graduate posited, much of the canyons will be in shadow and poorly illuminated, and the monumental rock formations at Arches National Park, on the right side of 191, will be much more visible. That’s my boy.
Actually, this is the first instance on our journey of Avery expressing a choice, because he had wanted to be kept unaware of our itinerary. He didn’t want to know where we’d be traveling so he’d be surprised. Its not my way but it seemed to be how he wanted to cross-navigate the country. But yesterday evening I had to reveal my travel plans when I pondered the option of 1. Staying in Santa Fe to attend the panel discussion, meaning eventually driving a 14-hour day through central Colorado and into Wyoming to get to my reservation at Yellowstone, or 2. Take the Utah route and break the distance into 2 parts. Let’s see…attend an event for which he had no interest, and then drive like hell, or casually traverse the most unique landscape he’d ever seen. So here we are taking a right into Arches National Park.
It is about 6:40 pm, we’re loosing sunlight, and the park gate is unattended –the sign states “open until 6:30”. Does that mean the park closes, or the ticket office closes at 6:30. Not clear but the gate is wide open. We decide its worth the risk of getting a trespassing ticket and drive on in. We realize we’re, by far, not the only ones continuing to enter the park and, after a few stops at fantastic rock formations realize that this is the perfect time to be here and the gates were left open intentionally. The red rock formations are being energized by the low western sun. They begin to glow – and there are so many of them. Different forms, sizes, groupings. Some are impossible stacks, some form caves or framed openings, some are mesas and some continuous cliffs. Some seem to be coarse, roughly defined beings marching, as a group, in the same direction, with a singular and resolved intention. And those are just the ones we’ve seen in the first 45 minutes. According to the map this park is huge.
We see a sign for “Delicate Arch” and figure we’ll take that turn-off and, realizing the parking lot is almost full, this must be worth a hike. We take off on foot not really knowing where or how far, just walking in the direction of everyone else. Actually, this is a perfect time to be outside in the desert, the sun going down and the temperature suitable for a hike that takes us on a 3 miles round trip, and 485 feet of assent. I stop a few times, uh, to let Avery rest….
We arrive at the spectacle just before the sun fully illuminates the formations and I now know why so many enter the park at this time of day, and why so many make this moderately difficult journey. I have no more words, just look at the photos…..
As Ave and I sit here enjoying the views, of the formations immediately before us as well as those off in the distance at consecutive intervals of space, I wonder how many humans have done the same thing in the past 15,000 years, equally awed. And this is just a small part of the vast park. This is truly a spiritual place. Anyone who thinks federal government is of little use to the interests of the people should consider the likely fate of this and other national treasures if the land hadn’t been conserved, natural and uncommercialized, for “all the people”. Consider this pristine, public gem compared to the highly compromised, commercial Niagra Falls. I, for one, am thankful for this opportunity – and I’ll certainly return.
After about 45 minutes we decide to leave the large, varied crowd (where we heard at least 6 different languages) and get an early start back so our walk will be unhurried and uncrowded. We still had enough light for some photos and, using Avery for scale I click away. He jokes that due to his photogenic qualities the photos will lead to a barrage of modeling offers. As we walk on, alone from the crowds we left behind, we continue the sarcastic banter until I say “you’re so wonderful I think I’ll get a tattoo that says ‘son’’. To which Ave responded, “I’ll get a tattoo that says Dad if you get one that says ‘Son”. He sounded serious and though I don’t think I’ll really ink my body, and will never really know if he was serious, I certainly appreciate the gesture. Taking the turn into this park was absolutely the right choice.
We enjoy the hike back to the car, arriving with little light to spare and eventually snake our way in the dark back to the park’s entrance. We encounter many cars along the drive who continue to enter the park, and though we’d like to stay we have another hour-and-a-half drive to Price, Utah. The drive is tiring but the time we spend driving tonight is time we’ll be able to spend in Yellowstone tomorrow.
No comments:
Post a Comment