Cumulative Miles: 5,496
Number of Speeding Tickets: Still only 1
States Visited: 16
Lesson learned: Not all flowers smell good.
Thursday we said good-bye to Sedona and headed toward our next destination, the Grand Canyon. It was only two hours from Sedona, so the drive wasn't a heavy lift. The piney forest outside of Flagstaff was beautiful and fragrant, although we could tell there had been fires there in the recent past in some places. We climbed to 4,000 feet and the forest opened into a wide, mostly grassy plane. We were hungry and consulted google about local restaurants. Robert saw some online comments which rather pointedly said that the local options were slim pickings, so keep your expectations low. Google told us there was a "Fred's Diner" about five miles ahead, so Fred's it was to be.
I expected Fred's to be a classic greasy spoon, which is ok by me. The eponymous Fred wasn't some local guy as I expected. It was Fred Flintstone. The whole diner was a recreation of Fred and Wilma's house. Outside was "Dinoland," a playground featuring their pet dinosaur. There was even a Flintstone Car and camper. I'm really curious as to whether Hanna-Barbera has licensed these folks to do this. Inside, things were more normal. We kept our food expectations low and thus suffered no disappointment. I didn't see Brontosaurus ribs on the menu like on the tv show, however.
The canyon was only a few more miles up the road, but there was a bit of line at the entrance booths. No big deal. We found our hotel, which boasted, "You're not just close, you're there!" It was truly only about a 200 yard walk to the canyon's rim. However, to get there you had to navigate through several grazing elk. My goodness they're huge. So many of us were snapping pics of them, they must have thought they were on the red carpet or something.
Those of you who have been to the canyon know that photographs simply cannot capture the sense of its vastness, not that that stops us from taking those photos anyhow. The colors of the stone, the profound depth of the canyon, the way the sunlight and clouds make the canyon a patchwork of sun and shade -- all of it is majestic. I wish I could say that I've seen an eagle or condor here, but mostly I've only seen crows. They soar upward on the updrafts and dive on the downdrafts, cawing and cackling the whole time. To me, it sounds like they're laughing at us pitiful earth-bound creatures who will never know the joy of the soaring winged flight they revel in.
I idly wondered what it might have been like to be a pioneer, someone who had never heard of or been told about the canyon, to simply come upon it as they traveled westward. Awestruck is the only reaction I can think it might have inspired, or maybe fear they had come to the edge of the world.
We spent the afternoon oohing and aahing at the views along canyon's south rim. It was crowded, but not uncomfortably so. We can always find a place where we can just sit in silence staring at the beauty.
Funny story. There is a plant that is ubiquitous here, with a pretty yellow flower and a rather malodorous smell. Our hotel is not far from where the pack mules are kept at night, so we at first thought the pervasive smell in the air was mule dung - yeah, not pleasant. Nope. It is the aroma emanating from the "Golden Rabbitbrush." I perversely made the mistake of taking a closer whiff at one of the flowers because I didn't really believe the smell was coming from them. Big mistake.
Dinner was at a pretty swank restaurant within walking distance. Elk Bolognese was on the menu, but I chose a filet instead. Sometimes in these places they rush you through so they can seat the next wave of diners, but not so here. Strolling home at sunset with a full belly and an incomparable view was pure bliss.....except I stepped on some elk poop.
Tomorrow we'll do some more serious hiking, but we're not attempting the canyon floor. Maybe if I were 40, but I'll stick to the rim, thank you very much.
