The Grand Canyon (Whoomp There It Is) - 175 mi. from Meteor Crater*

*I went from my hotel in Flagstaff to the Meteor Crater then backtracked to the Grand Canyon, hence the added miles!

U-G-L-Y AND YOU AIN'T GOT NO ALIBI YOU UGLY WHAT WHAT YOU UGLY. - Wildcats

This greatest cheer in the history of all cheerleading applies directly to the drive I took to get to the Grand Canyon. I have a lot of U-G-L-Y things to say about that drive, and the maintenance of Arizona highways near the Grand Canyon in general, but first let me say "Rough Road" isn't enough signage to warn drivers of the hideousness in which they are about to partake. Try: Garbage Pothole Express, or You Didn't Need Your Suspension Anyway Highway, or We Spend 0 Dollars on Infrastructure Annually Alley. I don't know the story here and I don't care. From a tourist's perspective, the area rolls in cash money from all the idjits like me traveling in for the many local natural wonders...where the money goes, who can say. Judging from the age of some parts of the highway and massive amounts of shoddy patchwork they've done over the years, it isn't much. Perhaps the logic is that the people will put up with it because they have no choice.

An indigenous neoptera

Well, you do have a choice...the longer route! Instead of taking 40W to 64N, take 89N to 64W. You get much better roads and the views are far more spectacular (mini canyons!). The other way is faster, but it is also more squalid and your car will hate you. Also, you have to play chicken with all the trucks that want to hang out in the passing lane because it is less warbly, pitfilled, and bangful.

One of the things I think I forgot to mention was my incredible planning skills when it came to this part of the trip...completely accidental skills, but I will take all the credit regardless. I just happened to visit the Petrified Forest and Grand Canyon on the weekend of National Parks Week. The entrance fees to the parks were waived--that's $50 of savings total, and all by happenstance. When I planned my trip, I had no idea the stars were aligning to catch me a break. It makes me feel better about all the Starbucks I've been buying and did not exactly budget for.

On the first day I busied myself with setting up camp--it turns out this was the last time I would put up the tent since I arrived too late at my final camping destination to set up camp (Joshua Tree). The area was incredibly beautiful--lots of wooded areas abound, which is true of the rest of the park, too, if you haven't been. Aspen, spruce, fir...it's a wonder that more explorers didn't go ass over ankles straight into the canyon as they discovered it (or came upon it, in the old timey, wheel & wagon days). The place is thick with trees and then suddenly, DROP.

It looks warm. 

Oh, the lessons that I never learn, or learn hard whilst beating my 100% bone head against the ground. It seems, despite all my declarations otherwise, that I can get cold. Really, really cold. That last, freezing sleep in the car wasn't just a fluke...it was a lesson. I threw all the blankets and sheets I had with me into the tent that first day at the Grand Canyon campsite, and added in the winter cap and mittens & hoodie for good measure. I was still a shivering mess that night. The next night, I wore jeans, too, and that seemed to make the last bit of difference. Never underestimate the cold, friendos. Even for human heat lamps like me, the wind and mild night dampness will cut through right to the bone.

I spent the next day driving around the Grand Canyon village and viewing the canyon itself. It wasn't as bad as it can be since it is still early in the season, but there were plenty of people out and about, either driving personal vehicles or taking the shuttle buses. I tried to stay away from the most crowded areas, but sometimes it could not be helped. Every time I witnessed Typical Tourist Behaviors, I had to smile, remembering that elder park ranger that had helped me out way back at Big Bend. The contempt in his voice, the faraway look in his eyes...he called the place "a zoo" and I could tell he could spend the rest of his life happy to never go there again.

Ravens, ravens everywhere!

Typical Tourist Behaviors Witnessed:
1. People tromping through other's camp sites. FYI, this is a no no. Also FYI, a simple Google Search prior to camping will teach camping etiquette in 5 minutes. Try, "How Not to Be an Asshole While Camping."
2. People swarming wildlife even though there are signs everywhere screaming LEAVE THEM ALONE THEY WILL KICK YOUR ASS. You can't help getting near wildlife since it seems to have no issue with getting right up near you, but you're not supposed to close the gap and encroach. I witnessed two Elk Incidents that made my blood run cold. First of all, here are some pictures of elk that I saw right at the visitor's center, easily the most populated part of GC Village.

They are not bothered by all the humans and stroll up to the area to drink the water pooling around various faucets. I saw them all over the park, drinking from various water spots or grazing--you couldn't miss them because they are huge and they have big pompoms on their butts. Pretty freaking cute, right? Wrong. One family wasn't happy with just a picture of the animals--they wanted a selfie with the animals right behind them. The mother kept pulling at her son (5-6 years old) to get in the selfie with her but he was clearly scared of the Very Large Animal. When he screamed, the elk responded as you would expect, lurching toward the family and the people starting to crowd around the scene. Everyone whooped and reeled back because, you know, Very Large Animal, and the elk decided that was enough. Yet the woman continued to pull her son toward the elk and yelled at him, indicating that this was somehow his fault (pointing at the elk, then him and shaking her index finger at him--she was speaking another language, but the message was clear).

The other Elk Incident took place as I was driving 45 mph (the posted speed limit) on the very winding road back from Desert View. A huge van of people had pulled over and were running back and forth across the road to take pictures of a group of elk grazing in a stand of dead trees. Mind you, this is coming around a bend, so cars had to hit the brakes to keep from running these people down. Some were clearly not phased by this, taking their sweet ass time to cross the road.
3. I also saw people going past the safety barriers to "get a better shot" or sit on the edges of the cliffs. They advise you not to do this, but I don't think it is a rule, per se. Just, ugh. Some people were clearly accustomed to the area and were surefooted enough, but others were not.
4. There was trash everywhere including all over my campsite when I arrived.

I know, not the worst, but it was a shock from the previous places I'd visited. Not to be a shit about it, but the clientele skewed a whole lot younger, too. Lots of lodge dwellers and tent campers, very few RV folks. All the previous camping I've done has been in the midst of a majority of RV/camper individuals, all of whom were around retirement age. I never worried about my safety in that crowd.

This made me very happy.

I hate to say it, but it definitely felt different at the Grand Canyon. Not in any obvious way, but certainly in the "I Don't Trust People to Begin With So I am Watching You" way. There were little things that happened here and there that kept me mildly paranoid. I will not relate them here, but will just leave it at that: It was just different. Compare it to visiting a non-tourist city vs. a tourist city (anywhere in the world). You don't expect to get hustled in Omaha, but you're fool if you think it won't happen in the middle of Times Square. Those knock off furries are NOT NICE and will punch you in the face if you don't pay them after you take their picture. The Grand Canyon Village area is like the Times Square of National Parks.

I am sure this is a shock to exactly no one, but I think it is easy to forget when all you ever see are the best pictures people bring back from their adventure.

As for the "camping" part of the experience, the Grand Canyon Village (Mather Campground) is the polar opposite of camping at a place like Big Bend (or even Bottomless Lakes). There are stores and restaurants all around you--and when I say stores, I mean stores that have everything. Food, clothing, supplies. The campers to the south of me had a dead car battery and asked if I had jumper cables. I didn't, but advised them to try the store. And they had them. They have everything.

Tree...or baby dragon?

It gives you peace of mind to know that civilization is right around the corner from your "wooded lot" but aside from the proximity to the Grand Canyon itself, it wouldn't be my highest recommendation to "get away from it all." Although if you want to get away from internet access, this is a great place to do it. They claim several places have access to wifi, but the only place that seemed to have working wifi was the aforementioned store. Not that we should be seeking out wifi on our camping trips! Unless we are feeling a bit weirded out and need to connect to our tribe to feel a bit more insulated and safe, as much as such a tenuous construct will allow us, anyway.

The Library. I did not go inside. I do NOT wanna talk
about it. Except to say: THHPPTT!

One thing I did not expect: The food was AMAZING, especially at the Desert View Snack Bar. They had this Chipotle Chicken Salad that was far yummier than it had any right to be, especially for the price.

But what is the point of any of this if not to see the grandest thing on the planet? It is a perspective altering experience and holds 100% of your attention when you finally get to see it. I tried to see it from as many vantages as I could on my own. I know this makes me the Odious Tourist Who Drives Solo and Expels CO Emissions All Over Our Park, but I took the HellTrain to work for 15 years, so everyone can suck it.

Desert view watchtower

I was excited to see the Grand Canyon, but will admit that it did not resonate as I thought it might. Perhaps it is because I've seen it before, perhaps it is because I am one month into this road trip and starting to feel the wear and tear of constant travel. I enjoy the driving part of the journey--even though I've learned that trucking has changed substantially since I was last regularly on the road (more on that later) and even though the view can sometimes be monotonous or grim--but I have no idea how anyone could travel for a living. It wears you out.

And while I am homesick, it is a weird variety of homesick--I am looking forward to getting back to Wichita to hang out with my mom, watch TV, sleep in a bed, and meet her new little cat, Luna. But that wasn't my home for so many years, was it? What about Brooklyn? Bay Ridge? The old 9115 Ridge Blvd, Apartment 6H?

When I got back to Flagstaff the day before yesterday and checked into the Baymont Inn for some downtime (no sights to see; laundry, relaxation, and that is it), I finally had a twinge of feeling about my old life. I remembered my nice couch and big screen and the whole lot of nothing I would do in my downtime...except for drawing. And I realized I didn't miss that couch, that apartment, those things--none of it--and certainly not that feeling of purposelessness.

I miss drawing, though. But I can take that with me anywhere.

Tucson, Arizona to Unnamed Rest Area on I-40, back to Petrified Forest National Park (410 miles)

[All pictures throughout are from the Petrified Forest, April 15, 2017]

When I left Mission I picked up a Starbucks (venti iced coffee, cream, no sugar), made sure my Google Map Woman was ready to go, and started the journey. We had to travel through Tucson to get to the open highway, but it was going to be a relatively short trip and I was really looking forward to driving through the Tonto and Apache-Sitgreaves National Forests on the way to my ultimate destination for the night: Unnamed Rest Area near the Arizona-New Mexico border. Google Map Woman had already told me I wouldn't have to make any changes to direction for another 100 miles but I'd left the sound on so I would have relative silence until I was out of the city. Out of the blue, Google Map Woman says take this exit. Being a lemming, I trusted her. Unlike Michael Scott (or countless others) I did not let her take me too far off path (maybe 2 miles) before I pulled over and looked to see what she was up to. Avoiding accidents? A closed road? Had the Critters finally landed to chew through all our ankles?

No. She just decided to take me on an alternate route that likely would have shaved time off (at that particular moment of that particular day) but would have completely missed the parks and the whole point of the journey. So, word to the wise: She's tricky. Watch her. She will also abandon you in the middle of a trip out in the middle of nowhere (she declared we had arrived at Canyon de Chelly when it was still about 50 miles away).

There was a bit of name calling and vowing vengeance--though not against this fictitious "woman"--it was directed at the fine programmers at Google who came up with this incredibly sophisticated and FREE program I've been using to get just about everywhere over this past month. Yes, I am aware. I think I was just overdue for a yelling so I had one.

The drive was beautiful and worth the reroute to ensure I would not miss it. Lots of mountain driving and exciting hills to wheeee down. I saw my first emergency stop road (so common around the Rockies) and it gave me chills thinking of this poor trucker holding on for dear life until s/he can find this narrow strip of nothing to incline just enough to slow down to a stop. It makes you think twice about your own brakes.

Speaking of which, Rogue update! Things I like about her:

1. Everything. She's so pretty. Interior, exterior. The Rogue still feels bucks deluxe to me even though it is a very reasonably priced car. She handles well, takes curves well, and brakes effectively. The pick up is weak, but I knew that going in (it's in the reviews) so would never count that against her. 

Considering that it is spring, the Rogue been encrusted with bugs several times over at this point (she's a true horror show as we speak). I've taken her to get washed a couple of times but all it takes is one short jaunt on the highway to collect new specimens for the bug guts gallery.

Which leads me to the one and only thing I don't like about the car: The windshield wipers are shit. No matter how much spraying and wiping I do, everything just gets smeared around in a virtual bugguts smorgasbord of gooey delights, which I am sure birds and other bugs find delizioso, but I find grody to the max and also I can't see. Especially at night. Unfortunately, this didn't start because of the travel--they sucked from the get go. I thought maybe they were new wipers and just had to work out some stiffness but no. They just suck.

This is where the wood starts showing up. See the weirdness?

Anyway, I love the idea that this little Rogue sat on the lot in Wichita, Kansas, accumulating 60 miles of test drives and moving from one part of the lot to another, being passed over again and again until I found her, online, the night before I snapped her up because for as long as I knew I wanted a Rogue above all others, I also envisioned what it would look like (white with tan interior). And even as I struggled to just BECOOLBECOOLBECOOL on the lot, it didn't really matter anyway because the online special price was a big discount and that was that--take it or leave it. So I took it.

And isn't it cool that she got to break free from that sad lot on the Eastern edge of town, sitting in the sun, rain, snow, day after day, until I busted her out of the joint and now her first job is to go adventuring??? OMG.

Relax. I could anthropomorphize a postage stamp. I can and will make you see my car as a free and happy girl galloping across the Wild West. I saw horses today, by the way. They had busted loose and someone was trying to wrangle them from his truck. They were right near the highway (65 mph) so I was worried for them, but you also have to love how horses will turn on you, beast of burden or not, and just whip that head around and sprint in the opposite direction.

Anyway, the Rogue is also not insulated like a house, so car sleeping that night was my first taste of true misery on the road. It was so, fucking, cold. Like, to the bone cold. Like, get up and use the facilities 50 times cold. Like, shiver awake sometime around 3 a.m., and turn on the engine and just sit there red-eyed and pitiful, knowing you have to sleep dammit, because tomorrow is a big driving day dammit, figure something out dammit. And I did, finally, pulling the sleeping bag from the storage compartments to add to the covers I already had (sheet, blanket, coat). The blanket in question was one I counted on to work too well in the past, so my bullheaded beliefs led me to this sad, 3 a.m. predicament. I was also attempting to keep the bedding semi-separated: fitted sheet, sheet, and big blanket for the car, sleeping bag for the tent and the big blanket if needed. Boy has that ever gone out the window. More on that later.

Finally, zipped up in the bag and covered with the blanket, I was warm enough to sleep. I got up early and reached the Petrified National Forest just as it opened for the day (8 a.m.). The petrified forest is cool and very chillax--the first part is all about the painted desert around it--special erosion in Arizona's werido climate unveiled the striations of different soils. You can drive through the park and look at different points of interest. There are hiking trails, too, if that's your thing.

SHINY

 The best part was of course the petrified "forest" which is a gathering of dead logs concentrated in one particular part of the park (though they can be found throughout). It's fascinating to see what the process of petrification can do to a simple organic object. Some looked like weird meat. Mystery meat from hot lunch, remember? Some looked like fruitcake. Others were shiny like geodes and of course those were my favorites. I took way more pictures than what I've shared here. I am trying to isolate what was best from the park and I hope I succeeded in some part.

I got some spectacular bug bites at the Petrified Forest--there are some truly evil beasts that reside there, and I guess they don't take kindly to the visage of their brethren caked on the front of my car. These were not mosquito bites, either. I think they were fly bites. You know the demon, stripey ones? These don't blow up like mosquito bites, but they itch forever. Luckily, the trick someone taught me--I cannot remember who, so take the credit as you like!--really does work for every kind of bite: Burn it. Some use matchsticks, but I make really hot water (not boiling), dip a tissue in it, and press the hot tissue to the bite area. It hurts, but it's temporary, and it neutralizes the itch completely. And you won't scar from it as long as you're not a dumbass. Like, don't pour boiling water over your legs and cry foul, chickadees.

As I completed my tour of the peaceful but bitey Petrified Forest, I tried to rally, knowing it would be a long day of driving (lots of zipping to and fro across Arizona). The night before had put me in a bit of a funk, but the next stop would heal much of my grouchiness.

To be continued...

Mystery meat on a bed of spring sprouts. Tell me you don't see it.