Fast forward to my arrival in Monument Valley. I had waited too long to book a tour from one of the many tour operators available and was unable to book a tour spot online the night before. When checking in to the hotel, they give you a sheet of paper with many different tour operators and their contact information. So during my first morning there, I started calling different numbers at random in an attempt to get a last-second spot on one of the tours because this was important to me. Most of the time I left a voicemail. One operator picked up, but they were out of town.
Finally, I got a hit. This operator had an open spot on a private tour. My guide would be Samuel and he would be driving a black 1995 Chevy Suburban. The tour would be 2.5 hours and we would meet at 10 am, an hour from the phone call. Normally, the general public is allowed to drive on the dirt road around the valley, but only on a certain loop. There are other dirt roads branching off the main route, each with a sign saying "private tour only" or "private property." The main dirt road is rough in places, wash boarded and rocky.
I walked to the meetup point just as Samuel pulled up. He had dark skin, short black hair and was slightly overweight. He wore a brown hoody and a black face mask. Like at Upper Antelope Canyon, facemasks are required to be worn in Monument Valley because it's part of the Navajo Nation and inside the Navajo Nation Tribal Park. Covid-19 has hit Navajo Nation particularly hard, so the natives have been cautious with opening back up to the outside world.
Samuel had been born in Monument Valley and always lived there. He spoke of the pressures he felt taking care of his family and earning money for daily living. He told me about his brother’s recent death from sepsis, a result of heavy alcoholism. We discussed depression and anxiety, how the two often lie to us. When you think your friends and family don't want to hear about your problems and you don't want to be a burden to them, that's depression lying to you.
I got the distinct impression that life in the Navajo Nation was rough and difficult.
Samuel took me to John Ford Point, a cliff overlooking a portion of the valley, telling me about different celebrities who’ve toured this area while I ordered Navajo fry bread from a shabby cafe. He also showed me the spot on the cliff where a native was struck dead by a lightning bolt. He showed me the famous buttes including the West Mitten, East Mitten and Merrick Butte. He told me about the other mesas in the valley, all while I stared in awe at these massive, desert varnish-adorned natural structures. I asked at one point if glaciers formed this valley; like most of the sandstone in the desert of Utah and Arizona, wind and water have chipped away at the rock for eons. I learned that a rock fall from a butte or mesa is seen as a bad omen. He told me that the buzz I hear in moments of complete silence is the spirits attempting to get my attention.
Samuel took me to John Ford Point, a cliff overlooking a portion of the valley, telling me about different celebrities who’ve toured this area while I ordered Navajo fry bread from a shabby cafe. He also showed me the spot on the cliff where a native was struck dead by a lightning bolt. He showed me the famous buttes including the West Mitten, East Mitten and Merrick Butte. He told me about the other mesas in the valley, all while I stared in awe at these massive, desert varnish-adorned natural structures. I asked at one point if glaciers formed this valley; like most of the sandstone in the desert of Utah and Arizona, wind and water have chipped away at the rock for eons. I learned that a rock fall from a butte or mesa is seen as a bad omen. He told me that the buzz I hear in moments of complete silence is the spirits attempting to get my attention.
After we finished discussing deep issues such as alcoholism and mental health, Samuel asked me if I drink. I told him I do sometimes socially drink, but I don't keep alcohol in my apartment. My vice is marijuana. I smoke right before bed most nights; it's part of my bedtime routine which helps me sleep. That seemed to surprise him. He then asked if I'd like to smoke with him!
Right as he asked me this, we arrived at the first of several natural sandstone arches we'd see that day: Big Hogan. As soon as I got out of the suburban, I could sense that this arch emitted some sort of energy. I cannot explain exactly what I felt, but I sensed something there. I chose to walk around in silence, looking upwards towards the arch. There was no need to talk, but when he or I did speak I noted the echo around the walls. I could see a face in the formation with long hair. I had a thought that this would be a good place to meditate.
The other arches Samuel showed me were Moccasin Arch, Sun's Eye and Ear of the Wind. I felt the same kind of energy that I sensed at Big Hogan and it gave me an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Emotion bubbled up. The silence of this area combined with the sense of gratitude and the unknown energy made me see that this day was shaping up to be something special.
He showed me a few walls on which petroglyphs existed. We had an interesting discussion about what the various images could possibly mean. That's when I found my own marijuana in my backpack wrapped in a plastic bag; I had forgotten that I stuck it in my backpack so it wouldn't stink up my hotel room. I offered some to Samuel and he gladly accepted. If I was already feeling overwhelmed with gratitude, the buzz from taking a drag or two with this Navajo man made me feel as if I were living a dream, driving around Monument Valley with a native. I was in an extraordinary situation, as if I had traveled to a different planet.
I spotted a fox at the base of one of the mesas. Samuel said he had never seen a tourist spot a fox here before. At one point later in the tour, I asked Samuel to remind me of his name again. Was it Sam? Much to my surprise, he told me his name was Shane. Sam handed me off to Shane a while back, don't you remember? It took me a moment to process this extraordinary piece of information but since I did not feel unsafe, I shrugged it off.
Another reason why this day was so special was that I was able to forge an immediate and strong connection to another human so quickly. This kind of connection is rare yet immensely profound in life. It's something I'll remember for as long as I live. Before Shane (Sam?) and I parted, he took me to his mother's house so I could pay for the tour with my debit card. I tipped the man $50 and when he dropped me off at the hotel, I thanked him for helping me create a positive memory that will last a lifetime. We embraced, and then parted ways.
My only regret is that I did not give him my business card.
They say people enter and exit your life for a reason. They pop up to provide some sort of value or lesson. Sam (Shane?) entered my life with the intensity of a raging wildfire, but then he exited just as intensely. Sam, I cannot thank you enough for what you did for me in only five measly hours.
1/12/23 - I woke up naturally before dawn and was greeted with a golden stripe on the horizon, with the buttes as a silhouette. I felt as if an electric shock had coursed through me.
“Whoa!”
I was wide awake. I stepped onto my narrow balcony and snapped three photos. That’s all I needed.
After eating breakfast with a view of the sunrise over the mittens and packing my car covered with a hard frost, I bid this hotel a glum goodbye. This was after all a glorious experience, one that I’ll never forget. I took my time driving out of Monument Valley, drinking in that unusual landscape one last time.
Several hours later, I ate lunch in Page and then inquired about road conditions leading up to The Wave. One of the women on duty, a middle aged woman with glasses, scared me when she said I would need a permit for the hike and that I had missed my opportunity that day. I told her that I had already acquired my permit a few months ago and I was just asking for the road conditions of Houserock Valley Road. I told them I had been studying the maps for months and that I would rent a Jeep. That made the ladies feel much better.
I also called the owner of the Jeep Gladiator I would rent just to confirm that I would pick it up that evening. Before leaving Page, I took a tour of the Glen Canyon Dam visitor center and went to the Lake Powell shoreline. I was surprised to learn that Page was born because workers on the Glen Canyon Dam needed a place to stay in the early 1950s; it was a company town. I also learned that Glen Canyon was one of a few places along the Colorado River that was under consideration to be dammed. As I drove around Lake Powell for a few miles, I found myself thinking it was a shame that Glen Canyon had to be sacrificed so that the west could consume a little bit more water...
I tore myself away from this beautiful setting and hit the road once again, this time to Kanab, UT. I arrived in Kanab two hours before the agreed upon pickup time for the Jeep, so I hiked around the cliff overlooking the town to kill some time.
The hotel I stayed at in Kanab was just a few blocks away from the pickup location, so I walked that way. The guy lending me the Jeep, Tanner, showed me some of the basics about the machine, including how to shift into 4WD. When I drove off in the machine, my excitement reached a peak.
This was getting real.
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