Away Together » Arizona

So Long, Sedona and SoCal

Sarah — Mon, 05 Oct 2009 06:00:00 +0000

Lots o' packing yesterday and today ... we had to put a bunch of stuff in storage, give away outgrown kids' clothes and pare down to the true essentials.

I’m rushing to write this blog post while packing for tomorrow’s departure to Argentina. We traveled through Arizona less than a week ago, yet it feels more like a month has passed. We arrived in LA for a few days to take care of some business, reorganize all our belongings and — most difficult of all — say goodbye to our dog Teddy, who will spend the next ten months in the care of my in-laws. Teddy will be in very good and generous hands, but oh, it’s hard to leave him!

Our journey is shifting to a more challenging and exciting phase as we go abroad, and I’d like to say we’re ready but I don’t think I’d ever feel completely prepared. We realized today, at the eleventh hour, that some travel logistics have not been arranged or confirmed, so Morgan and I found ourselves scrambling and then consciously taking deep breaths, concluding, “Oh well, it’ll work out, or we’ll figure it out when we get there.” I have spent the weekend trying to adopt a true traveler’s mind — i.e., embracing rather than fearing the unknown – and doing my best to maintain an outwardly positive attitude for the kids’ sake. Their tears started to flow last night as the prospect of missing Teddy magnified a bout of homesickness (or rather, “friendsickness”). Thankfully, a trip to the beach with their grandparents today made everything feel better.

I had a lump in my throat all weekend because we have to say goodbye to Teddy. He is a fantastic dog, and we loved road-tripping with him the past six weeks.

Before the memories of the past week grow more distant, I want to document our last special destination: Sedona. Funny thing is, when I paused to reflect on it this morning, an image of Kyle on a Colorado trail a couple of weeks earlier crossed my mind. He had randomly picked up a small rock and discovered a quartz crystal under the dusty surface. His eyes grew large and a smile broke out on his face, and as he clutched his little treasure, he headed down the trail with new energy.

Like Kyle bending down to pick up that rock, we made an unexpected and enchanting discovery on our way to Sedona that renewed our energy. I should be careful when talking about “energy” in the context of Sedona, however, because I don’t want to be mistaken for one of the New Age crystal-gazers who are drawn to Sedona’s red rocks and attest to the power of “energy vortexes,” which supposedly spiral around certain points on the landscape and resonate good vibes. Then again, I did feel particularly good while there, so who knows whether I felt the vibes of a vortex or a placebo effect or just a buzz from a beer?

We met the Flintstones and had a yabba-dabba-doo-dah time.

Certainly our slightly addled states of mind upon entering Sedona primed us for fun and come-what-may adventure. We had no expectations, no plans, save for a last-minute booking at a hotel. We had decided only about a week prior to go there for a couple of nights in lieu of a detour to Vegas, our forethought limited to, “It’s only 30 miles south of Flagstaff? Might as well check it out, I heard it’s nice.” We had spent the night outside the Grand Canyon in the fleabag Red Feather Lodge, which is notable for its very un-P.C. retro Indian Brave motto and its inedible breakfast buffet offerings. (But, they take dogs — the only motel in the area to do so.) I was disoriented from insomnia and the belated discovery that we had crossed a time zone and gained an hour. Plus, we all felt punchy from a brief stop at the Flintstone Bedrock RV Park, where a two-story-high Fred Flintstone appears like a bad-trip hallucination in an armpit corner of the desert. At that point, we didn’t know what to expect next.

After our stop at the Bedrock RV park on our way to Sedona, we weren't sure what to expect.

Meandering from Flagstaff on Route 89A, which is a windy road through a forested canyon, Sedona revealed its magic like the dusty treasure in Kyle’s palm. We had a hard time driving because we kept looking up and around to take in the grand sculpture garden that is Sedona’s landscape. Sandstone, carved and polished smooth by water and wind, rose up randomly in lumpy and jagged formations that perched precariously on the canyon’s hillsides, shaped like giant sand-drip castles. Horizontal stripes of color formed by ancient sedimentary layers — from nearly white limestone to black basalt — highlighted the canyon’s red and blond hues.

Sedona at sunrise on one of our early-morning runs.

We passed a sign saying Slide Rock State Park was ahead. Another sign for it mentioned a swimming area. We decided to check it out and change into bathing suits — and I’ll let the photos tell the rest of the story. Suffice to say the kids couldn’t get enough of sliding on those rocks and swimming in the frigid water. At one point one said, “This is better than the Grand Canyon!”

A series of natural pools makes up Slide Rock State Park near Sedona.

Colly takes the plunge.

Kyle slides into the frigid waters at Slide Rock Park.

Then it was time to get settled in Sedona proper — an odd town that’s a bit like Sausalito in the desert (ticky-tacky tourist shops juxtaposed with upscale resorts and artists’ retreats). As luck would have it, we got a room at the dog-friendly and always-booked El Portal, thanks to someone else’s recent cancellation. It bills itself as a boutique “luxury hacienda” with only 12 rooms, each designed differently but all reflecting Sedona’s earthy and artsy aesthetic. The splurge was worth every cent — the lodge was exquisite in terms of comfort and service, and we all kept repeating, “This is so nice.”

Pausing to welcome the new day on the Munds Wagon Trail in Sedona.

We spent the majority of our two days on local trails, running in the morning while the kids slept in and then taking them on hikes before the sun rose too high, then going out again at sunset. Thankfully, Morgan’s broken toe is on the mend and he started running again. We had a spectacular two hours on the Munds Wagon Trail at sunrise. As if the visual feast weren’t fulfilling enough, the wind carried strains of “Amazing Grace” from a wooden flute played somewhere on the rocks by someone also was welcoming the day. With the kids, we explored the West Fork Trail of Oak Creek Canyon, which I learned was made famous by Zane Grey’s 1924 novel The Call of the Canyon (which I hope to read someday now). The kids soaked themselves at the creek crossings and splashed around with other kids who happened to be there on a field trip.

Sedona's Oak Creek Canyon viewed from West Fork Trail.

The book Sedona’s Top 10 Hikes by Dennis Andres was an indispensable guide during our time on the trails.

And now it’s time to end this post abruptly and go to bed to get up early for our flight to Buenos Aires, with a stopover in Miami. We’re in an airport hotel next to LAX. Estoy muy cansada (I’m very tired). Adios!

Colly and Kyle with our luggage checking into the airport hotel tonight. We reduced our luggage to four packs for clothing, one small suitcase for our "mobile office," four carry-on backpacks, one camera bag and one purse.

Glimpsing the Grand Canyon

Sarah — Tue, 29 Sep 2009 14:48:38 +0000

Our visit to the Grand Canyon was not unlike the Griswolds’.

We had never been to the Grand Canyon and always wanted to go — but our dream is to raft the river, hike rim to rim and camp for days. Alas, that was not meant to be. A variety of circumstances — including Kyle’s young age, Morgan’s broken toe and the park’s dog-unfriendly regulations — meant we settled for a drive-by visit. Here’s how we did the Grand Canyon in about five hours:

The Watchtower

We drove to the South Rim entrance and spent a half hour or so at Desert View, the first visitor’s center. Here, we marveled at the architecture and Hopi paintings in the 70-foot-high round Watchtower almost as much as we oohed and ahhed over our first glimpse of the canyon. The Watchtower was built of stone in 1932 and designed as a replica of a prehistoric Indian tower. We loved climbing the stairs to the top and peering out its windows.

The kids peer down from The Watchtower at the Desert View visitor center. We loved climbing to the top and studying the Hopi art.

Then we hopped back in the car and proceeded to make stops at pullouts along the road, during which Colly and Kyle would scuttle off on a footpath precariously close to the cliff’s edge. Those few forays on barely marked paths were the most awe-inspiring and gave us all a better appreciation for the canyon’s massive scale and beauty. Having visited the spectacular Black Canyon in Gunnison a few days prior, we were able to compare and contrast the two canyons’ formation and geology in a way that gave the kids a science lesson no textbook could rival.

Kyle and Colly survey the canyon from a roadside stop. The stated the obvious -- "It's so big" -- and the not-so-obvious: "It looks fake."

We encountered a wall of traffic and tourists around the main South Rim visitor center at the Mather Point area — “This sucks!” we all said in unison — and so we didn’t even attempt to find parking; instead, we headed to the Bright Angel trailhead and lodge, near the famous El Tovar hotel (which is pictured in the video clip above when the Griswolds drive away). Again, we found ourselves in a big parking lot clogged with buses, but we tried to make the best of it. Colly, Kyle and Morgan headed down the Bright Angel trail for a short out-and-back hike while I stayed up on the paved rim trail with most of the tourists and Teddy (dogs are not allowed on any of the real trails). It was great to see the kids dazzled by the surroundings, but I felt pangs of regret as I looked at the trails below and yearned to run them and descend into the canyon. Leaning against the railing of the South Rim’s paved path, the Grand Canyon stretched out like a scene from an airplane window — beautiful, but distant and untouchable. Someday, I vowed, we’ll come back and do it right.

By then, the sun quite low in the sky. Morgan and I wanted to stay through sunset, but the kids were hungry and asking about dinner. The restaurants near our motel outside the park boundaries were limited to fast food and a steakhouse called Yippee-Ei-O. I researched the dining options inside the park and realized we should have made reservations weeks ago. Surveying the hordes headed toward a cocktail lounge at Bright Angel Lodge, I figured our situation was hopeless — we’d never get a table.

Our watches said it was 5:30, so we agreed to try to eat early and then take a sunset stroll afterward. We headed to Bright Angel Lodge’s cheaper, more casual restaurant and to our surprise found it virtually empty. We ordered fajitas and beer and enjoyed a thoroughly satisfying meal while the tables around us filled up and a line grew out the door. (“Ah, we beat the rush!” we congratulated ourselves.)

Morgan and Teddy after dinner on the canyon's South Rim.

Overlooking the canyon from our table as the sunset glow began to burnish the cliffs, Morgan and I enjoyed a second beer while the kids and Teddy romped around on the lawn in front of the restaurant. Not a bad way to wrap up our quickie tour, to be sure.

It wasn’t until the next day that we realized we had crossed a time zone and gained an hour. That explains why the restaurant was almost empty — we had gone there at around 4:40 p.m. Happily, being stupid and unprepared worked out in the end.

(View the slideshow of Morgan’s landscapes — much better than my snapshots!)

The Griswold shot at the South Rim.

It was a short visit, but it was worth it!