Flagstaff to Page

It’s been another exhausting yet brilliant day. I’m in bed right now, and have no internet. I didn’t last night either, at least, not good enough to upload photos and a blog post. Gosh darn it, America.

Well, let’s see. The day started out with a walk to La Bellavia for breakfast. Eggs and bacon and a big mug of coffee. Then I walked up to the railroad tracks that traverse Flagstaff and sat and waited. I was determined to recreate a photo I took in 1999. See below.

I waited and waited then decided to go find some water. Needless to say, as I wandered off, I heard a train approaching. I literally ran back, only to discover it was coming from the other direction. So I wandered off again. And again, a train came – from the right direction – but this time I couldn’t make it back in time. Frustrated but determined, I plonked myself down and waited. I read my Lonely Planet. I looked at empty Flagstaff. I was just beginning to realise that what I was doing was a bit daft when bingo – along came the BNSF. Not nearly as good, but I'm pleased enough. 

For some reason this made me incredibly happy and I bounced off back to the hotel to pick up my bags and hit the road. Which I did. My plan was to hit Cameron Trading Post (there’s a lovely bridge), then Marble Canyon (lovely bridge), Grand Canyon North Rim (lovely br – view), then potter on to Page (best burgers in the world). I took my time today. I’m getting to the Arizona I really love. The red rocks, pink cliffs and skies so blue it’s hard to believe. Sometimes I look at the view and just can’t believe that what I’m looking at is completely natural. Sounds daft, but just look at the colours. How can you not fall in love with views like this?

 Marble Canyon proved to be rather good too. I’ve never been here before, so that was exciting. Saw some Californian Condors too.

I drove for hours along some of the most beautiful cliffs and rocks I’ve ever seen. It makes me so excited for Monument Valley.

This is a house built on to/under a rock. Cliff dwellers, they’re called. Not anymore, but they were. Big rocks rolled down the cliff face, and people just build their homes on to them. It was cool, robust and cheap. Not bad.

Then the climb started. The highest viewpoint (Imperial Point) of the Grand Canyon is at the North Rim. It’s over 2,742 metres up, so it’s quite a climb. Suddenly, the pine trees that cover, completely cover, the Kaibab Plateau, surround me and the air is thick with the smell of them. It’s almost delicious – lush even. I roll down the window and gulp it in.

A couple of hours later, and I’m there. It’s later than I had hoped, but so what. I walk, I stare, I look enviously at the log cabins perched on the edge. I’m struck by how empty it is. If you’ve ever been to the South Rim, you know how busy it is. Hundreds of people, all desperate to get a good look, all stopping at the same points – it’s enough to make you not want to go. It’s changed so much every time I’ve gone, and that’s partly the reason I decided to skip it and go north instead. There’s also the obvious fact that I’ve never done the north so it was about time. I’m glad I did. I’d say the views easily match, if not rival, those at the South Rim, and the solitude make it all the more striking.

Unfortunately, there’s never enough time (one day I will do a rim to rim hike), and I peel my eyes off the sheer drops and head back to the car. I realise that I’m going to be getting to Page much later than hoped, never mind the fact that the 89 is still closed, and the recently paved 89 T is only open in daylight hours. This means a loop around into Utah and coming into Page from the north. Another 45 minutes to the journey.

By the time I roll across the Glen Bridge, I’m virtually running on fumes, the sky is black, and I’m ready for bed. Check in, hit the supermarket, find out I was given the wrong code for the internet, but it’s too late – I’m in bed.

It’s been one hell of a day. Tomorrow, I hardly drive. If I’m unlucky, I’ll be in the car for an hour, max. In place of 4 wheels, I’ll be on a raft, and then a kayak. Colorado Rive and Lake Powell, here I come.