A bend, a slot canyon and Monument Valley

1/10/23 - Today is a day that I’ll remember today forever; it was the kind of day where I was filled with wonder and laughter. It was the kind of day that left me emotionally exhausted.

I saw several amazing things: Horseshoe Bend, Upper Antelope Canyon and Monument Valley. The desert landscape around Page, AZ is incredible; I could see myself moving to this small town in the middle of God’s country because of the possibilities of outdoor recreation. Page itself is built upon a hilltop that provides great views in every direction. I was surprised to learn that Page was born as a result of the Glen Canyon Dam construction, the dam that harnessed the Colorado River which created Lake Powell.

I had seen photos of Horseshoe Bend for years. It’s the kind of place you see plastered all over social media by blond-haired Instagram influencers who sit on the cliff edge with their back to the camera, or with their arms thrown in the air, giving off a strong vibe of basicness. It is indeed a tourist magnet.

                                            

But for good reason. Horseshoe Bend was carved by the Colorado River over millions of years. The Navajo sandstone gives the cliff its reddish orange color and slanted layers. When I try to imagine how a natural feature like This forms, it blows my mind. I struggle to comprehend the magnitude of nature.

The parking lot is 10 minutes south of Page and costs $10 to park your car. A hiking trail leads visitors from the parking lot to the Bend, perhaps a half a mile long. Since this is a tourist trap, the cliff edge can get quite loud when busloads of tourists arrive, all chattering away in loud voices. The faint sound of highway traffic also reaches the cliff edge.

However, this bend is one of those things that is so big that it looks fake. Like the Grand Canyon, the Bend makes you feel small and insignificant. Thankfully, it's possible to hike along the cliff edge where you can get far away from other people in an effort to get a different point of view.

I arrived at the bend at dawn to photograph a colorful sunrise. Things we’re looking promising when I could see faint clouds in the predawn light, hovering around the shining moon. the clouds never lit up like I hoped, but I observed how the ambient light turned a shade of purple and how the morning sunlight crept along the landscape. I stayed for as long as I could, hiking around the rim getting different points of view. I had to give myself enough time to get back to town for the next adventure.

After returning to Page, I joined a tour of Upper Antelope Canyon. My group consisted of 11 people including myself all packed into a white van. Our tour guide, Rose, was a short Navajo woman in a black hoody and baseball cap. She gave us information about where the Navajo reservation began, how big it is, how long the Antelope Canyon wash is and the kind of rock found in the area. The group was well behaved and gave attention to Rose when she asked for it. Since the canyon is located in the Navajo Nation, face masks are required due to the Covid-19 pandemic. And because the canyon is so popular with tour groups, camera tripods are forbidden.

                                            

I had known Upper Antelope Canyon as a famous spot for photography. From the photos I have seen, it’s a great place to see light beams coming down from narrow openings in the ceiling, soft light on the smooth, contoured walls, and various shapes in the walls. I didn’t get to see light beams coming down from the ceiling because that doesn't happen in the winter, but I did see great light, shadows, shapes and faces in the canyon.

                                                    

I was the only person in the group clutching a DSLR camera; everyone else carried a smartphone. They seemed to kindly give me extra space and point certain viewpoints out to me knowing I would appreciate it. As the tour progressed, I tended to drag behind, looking everywhere except straight ahead. It was a place I had never experienced before, enjoying every single moment of the short tour and snapping hundreds of photos. At some points I was forced forward by tour group behind mine, though they did wait patiently. Now that I’ve seen what kind of light is in this small, enclosed space, it’s a shame that tripods have been banned.

                                                              

                                                

Having said all of that, I found it a difficult place to photograph because I normally struggle in low-light environments, and that I had to work quickly. That's not a bad thing, though; the challenge is welcoming. 

After returning to the tour van to drive back to Page, wherein the guide attempted to teach me how to say "thank you" in Navajo, I then drove towards Monument Valley with a brief detour to Navajo National Monument. This small park preserves the ancient cliff-dwelling homes of the Anasazi people. These crude homes are still standing under this cliff overhang after a thousand years; they chose this location because it stayed dry in the winter, and it had lots of sunshine during the cold parts of the year. One theory as to why the Anasazi people abandoned this area all those years ago is that there was a terrible drought that forced the people to find food and water elsewhere. I had the walk and viewpoint all to myself, perhaps because not many people choose to visit a small national monument in the dead of winter while snow covers the walking path. 

The landscape on the way to Monument Valley along State Route 98 and U.S. Highway 160 was consistently amazing, filled with canyons, jagged mountains, colorful rock bluffs and other rock formations, although very lonely and quiet. They're the kind of roads that don't see a lot of traffic. I first glimpsed Monument Valley from about 30 miles way in Kayenta. After turning north on US 163, I felt chills from head to toe the further in I drove. I was stunned by what nature showed me.

                                       

Monument Valley looks like a different planet with its larger-than-life bluffs and mesas. One one stretch of road about 30 minutes before sunset, a strong wind was blowing reddish dust around, creating a borderline dust storm. I stopped the car to take a picture but then I noticed dust blowing across the road, illuminated by the evening sun. This created what looked like golden dust. This, combined with the sight of huge bluffs glowing in the evening sun, made me roar with laughter. It was moments like this that we don't experience very often: magical and mystical times.

                                            

Once I was satisfied, I raced ahead in the hopes of viewing a vibrant sunset at my hotel which was located in the shadow of those iconic trio of bluffs; the West and East Mittens, and Merrick Butte. I saw a narrow band of color over the scene from the hotel parking lot, but it didn’t last long. I called it a day and checked into my hotel room on the top floor, which had an unobstructed view of the those same buttes.

                                             

The road trip kicks off, camping in Valley of Fire, and bighorn sheep

1/8/23 - I woke up to snow in Bishop this morning.

My apartment, patio, and car were covered in a thin blanket of wet snow, much to my surprise. The latest storm of an active winter actually forced the snow level down to around 4,000 feet, so Bishop got its first measurable snow this season. Lately all of the snow had been confined to the higher elevations.

The snow gave me yet another reason to be excited, as today was the first day of my road trip. I had been restless yesterday getting ready for this adventure, packing the car and cleaning the apartment. I’ll be on the road for approximately two weeks, touring a number of national and state parks in Nevada, Utah and Arizona.

This is my first time taking two weeks off from work since 2020. On that occasion, I took two weeks off because my coworker caught Covid while at San Quentin State Prison in the beginning of the pandemic. Suffice to say, I did mot do anything of note besides stay in and around my apartment in San Rafael with mild anxiety as lockdowns had shut everything down in the Bay Area. Since then, I’ve taken a week here, a week there, a long weekend in between but nothing substantial. I had been burning out, especially over the summer when I spent a lot of time studying Google maps at work and fantasizing about a road trip through Utah and Arizona.

I write this from my campsite in Valley of Fire State Park, just east of Las Vegas, NV. I drove roughly 340 miles today, taking an indirect route through Death Valley National Park where I went to Dante’s View, an overlook on the east side of Death Valley that is known as a fantastic view during sunrise. I hadn’t visited here before, but I’m glad I took the 13-mile side trip up the mountain.




From there, I briefly stopped in Death Valley Junction, and then refueled in Pahrump, NV where gas cost $3.13 a gallon. I found myself admiring the mountains around this small, rural town and wondering whether I could live there.

From Pahrump I drove roughly 80 miles to Las Vegas where I got caught in heavy, aggressive traffic on Interstate 15. I did not stop in Vegas, even when I passed right by the glitz and glamor of The Strip. I wasn't at all interested in repeating the trip from 2019. On that occasion, I was forced to spend two nights in the city to wait out a snowstorm in Zion National Park and the Grand Canyon. No such storm is in the forecast this time around!

As a California resident, it cost $15 to enter Valley of Fire; it costs $10 to enter as a Nevada resident. This is Nevada’s first state park, being established in 1934. The road meanders through red and orange sandstone, creating a wild landscape that captures your imagination. This is a good place to go to practice landscape photography, particularly during early morning light or evening golden hour because the rock seems to glow in the same color as flame. However, you do need to dodge hoards of tourists looking for that Instagram-worthy picture. I wanted to see Valley of Fire for myself after hearing about the location from other photographers and seeing the images they created. I wanted to see the splash of color and the curvy lines for myself. And in some cases, the happy, jovial faces.





I was able to photograph The Beehives during golden hour and parked at the visitor center, where camp host Linda told me it doesn’t get windy here at night and the temperature gets down to about 40 degrees. She also told me to visit her in the morning to pay for my camp spot, as I don’t usually carry cash on me.



My camp spot was near Arch Rock, a natural arch surrounded by signs instructing tourists to stay off the rock. The campsite was very quiet and I had some privacy until an adventure van rolled into the spot next to me near midnight. I sat awake, annoyed, while my noisy neighbors hammered stakes into the ground. To their credit, they worked quickly and went silent shortly after they arrived.

While lying in my tent, I noticed the occasional drone of an airplane or jet flying into or out of Las Vegas. The stars are as bright as anything I’ve seen. Being January in the middle of winter, these spots are first come first served because not nearly as many tourists invade the park compared to warmer months. It was the same as other campgrounds I've visited; once you pick a site, you walk to the entrance to the ground and deposit your money in an envelope along with your site number, car details, number of people and how long you'll stay. Then you take the receipt stub and attach it to the metal stake standing at the entrance to your campsite.



1/9/23 – Last night while I was trying to sleep inside my tent, I heard what sounded like people laughing. The sound echoed around the sandstone mounds surrounding my campsite. Considering this sandstone has what looks like faces, this laughing sound was slightly creepy. I later learned that this sound most likely came from bighorn sheep in the park.

I got up early and drove to the Fire Wave trailhead. This hike is listed as 1.5 miles round trip, but it feels shorter. The trail follows metal poles which lead visitors to the wave. Being early on a Monday morning in winter, I had the Fire Wave to myself where I sat down above the formation and attempted to imagine how something like this takes shape.



I bumped into a herd of bighorn sheep upon returning to the trailhead. With the patterns In the rock and the landscape behind them, I was stunned with my photography luck. The sheep seemed comfortable around people because I could slowly approach them while they munched on the bushes. Similar to driving in snow or sand, the rule of thumb is no sudden movements when engaging in wildlife photography. There were roughly nine sheep; three of which hiked to the top of a stone hill and laid down, surveying the landscape. This was my first time seeing bighorn sheep in the wild; I did not expect this to happen, nor did I expect to be in such a great spot for it.



Marveling at such a terrific start to the trip, I departed Valley of Fire and drove to Saint George, UT, taking a familiar route on I-15 through the Virgin River Gorge. After having lunch in Saint George, the journey to Page was a long one which straddled the state line. I hopped on Utah State Route 59 through Apple Valley which morphed into Arizona State Route 389 through the Kaibab Indian Reservation, and then I re-entered Utah via Kanab and then Utah State Route 89. On this road I found the turnoff for the whole reason for this road trip: Houserock Valley Road.

Eventually I entered Page, AZ at twilight, where I first glimpsed the mighty Glen Canyon Dam and Lake Powell. I chose to get a cheap hotel room for less than $60 instead of camping. It was a good idea because it was freezing cold in Page.