Short Stories: Schwieterman Summer Adventure Series (Part 3 - Arizona, originally posted 8/7/22))
It had already been a long day of traveling through southeastern Utah’s spectacular clay-colored wonderland as we made our way across the border just south of Monument Valley into the state of Arizona. The gorgeous scenery continued as did the sparse population. We were truly in the middle of nowhere. Funny how I have made that same comment about our home in Mercer County being out in the middle of nowhere—I don’t think I will be saying that anymore. Not only was there no phone or data service (Can you hear me now? No, no I cannot.) There were also no FM radio stations. It was like stepping back in time! I wondered what the residents did in that region of the Navajo Indian Reservation for recreation.
It was a four-hour trek to our next stop for the night and we felt every minute of it. The girls were restless in the back, and everyone was tired after many hours of exploring Arches National Park. I even took a turn driving the motorhome to give my husband a break. The speed limit was 65 but I was too afraid to attempt those speeds in our large carriage on such unfamiliar, winding roads—much to the chagrin of a few other drivers who extended their ill wishes by thrusting their arms from the window with a certain finger raised—no doubt yelling unpleasantries at me. But it didn’t change my speed. . . I had precious cargo aboard. I was more than willing to return the driver’s seat to my husband!
It was our intention to just find a place to pull off for the night (boondocking), but last minute we opted to find a campground. We were entering “civilization”, so I used the phone service opportunity to look for and book a nearby campground for the night. As my head was buried in my phone, I missed the road sign signaling the upcoming attraction. I perked up when my husband let out an exclamation of awe as we drove over the Colorado River on the Historic Navajo Bridge. Oh, man! I had done research on it and was looking forward to seeing it . . . opportunity missed. It is directly before Marble Canyon on 89A—be on the lookout! There are two bridges there, the new for vehicles to cross and the older for pedestrians. Now, I’m not saying I would have been brave enough to walk the bridge that stands four hundred feet above the river, but I certainly wanted to see the stunning view. Ryan offered to turn around. . . I wish I would have taken him up on the offer!
Shortly after Marble Canyon, we began our ascent into the Kaibab National Forest surrounded by the beautiful landscape of the Vermillion Cliffs. The temperature dropped considerably as we made our way up the steep mountain that would ultimately take us to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. But first we rested our tired bodies at Kaibab Camper Village for the night.
We had a 40-mile scenic drive to the visitor center the next morning. The forest was so lush with not nearly the fire damage we had seen on our drive up the mountain. As we got closer to the parking lot, we could see peak-a-boo views of the “drop off”. Um, that sure looks like a long way down! We opted to load Mayah into the backpack carrier we had borrowed from family. If I could have put the other girls on a leash, I may have just done it! We chose the North Rim instead of the more popular South Rim of the Grand Canyon because it was less crowded and not as hot since it was at an elevation of 8,000 feet.
The crowds were favorable and again, everyone we encountered was really kind. We headed out for the 1-mile roundtrip hike to Bright Angel Point that began just behind the Visitor Center. The pathway was narrow, and this momma-bear was a wreck. I hadn’t realized how fearful of heights I had become in my old age! The colorful views of the canyon were likely not as dazzling due to the light fog/haze, but it was still beautiful. We had to cross two small bridges along the hike, and I managed to not hyperventilate by looking at my feet the entire time instead of looking over the side. Oh my, I still shudder when I think of the drop. I must have looked like such a greenhorn as I proceeded to shuffle my feet along the path while yelling at the girls to, "Hold hands, make a chain!" The adventurous girl of my past, who had even gone bungie jumping, had disappeared. . . the new Angie was a coward!
I much preferred taking in the views from the safety of the concrete overlook by the Visitor Center where we lingered for a while checking out the gift shop. There were other hiking paths available but us novices passed on the opportunities and headed west toward our next destination—Las Vegas. As we continued west on 89A past Freedonia, we happened upon an unexpected find—the Le Fevre Overlook. As we crested at the top of a hill, the scenery before us was like nothing I had ever seen. I told Ryan it looked like a stairway to Heaven. There were plateaus on the horizon that looked like steps, each a different color. We pulled off so I could take pictures of the Grand Staircase, however no photo could capture the beauty, but the vision is engraved into my memory. The complete majesty of it all caused me to reflect on just how beautiful Heaven must be and I thanked the Lord for creating such a beautiful world for His children.
It was the perfect ending to our time in Arizona.
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