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.