Tag: New Mexico

We started the morning in Kayenta, Arizona, just outside Monument Valley. I’m sure the people of the Monument Valley Region are very nice, but I wish Kayenta was more respectful of the natural beauty that surrounds it. There are no nice photos to be taken in Kayenta, because the scenery is interrupted at every vantage.

We headed out of Kayenta, west through Northern Arizona toward Page, home of Antelope Canyon, our first destination of the day. As has been the case since Gallup, NM, we were on two lane blacktop with 65 mph speed limits.

This is an Interstate free zone!

From time-to-time I wanted to pass the car in front of me. That meant waiting for a clear spot, hoping Helaine would cover her eyes, running it up to 85 mph, and swinging into the oncoming lane.

There aren’t a whole bunch of places to do that in Connecticut. Actually, there aren’t a whole lot of places to do that anywhere. It’s a lost art. Thankfully, everyone keeps their headlights on day and night.

As we sped west, we passed through a bunch of little towns… actually, more like settlements of a few houses. The speed limit would drop to 55 mph for a hundred yards or so and then back to 65 mph. Next.

What kind of life do people have here? We were curious in an anthropological way. Is it a life to be loved, or do kids wait for the day they can escape?

Forty miles from Page, and driving parallel to its single track, electrified railroad, we got our first glimpse of the gigantic Navajo Generation Station. Two of its three stacks were blowing something white skyward.

I’m hoping it was steam, though I doubt it. There were separate cooling towers for that.

As we got closer, and the sheer size of the plant became apparent, Helaine started singing, “One of these things is not like the other. One of these things just doesn’t belong.”

Whatever I said about Kayenta goes doubly for Page. I know we need to generate electricity. I wish there was a less invasive way. After all, this huge power plant also needs huge transmission lines to take the power away.

We were in Page to visit Antelope Canyon. It is a slot canyon. Don’t worry, until recently I didn’t know what that meant either.

This area of the country gets little rain. What they do get isn’t spread through the seasons, but falls in brief deluges which often cause flash flooding.

Over the eons, a flooded stream, Antelope Wash, found its way to the Colorado River by boring through a hillside. That channel is the slot canyon we visited.

Because it’s carved through sandstone, the walls have smooth curves and a layered look. At certain times of the year (not now) sunlight streams through to the canyon floor as beams of light.

It was unlike anything Helaine or I had ever seen before – beautiful, mystical, spiritual.

We signed up for a tour at the entrance to the Navajo Park which contained the canyon. The operation of the tour company was rinky dink. However, our guide Carol was amazing.

She knew all about the canyon and, after all these tours, was a camera expert. She spent lots of time showing people where and how to get great shots, even with little point and shoot cameras.

Carol’s expertise will be felt when returning tourists look at their photos and find her masterpieces.

We left Antelope Canyon, headed over the Colorado River at Glen Canyon Dam and into Utah. I believe I’m entitled to another wife at this point.

The road settled into a low area flanked by white monolithic rocks, We were in Glen Canyon.

I know Grand Canyon is larger, deeper and more well known. However, you usually see The Grand Canyon from the top looking down. Here, we were in the middle of the broad flood plain. The rock faces towered over us. I have never felt smaller nor more inconsequential.

As with the trip to Page, the roads were good. From time-to-time we’d round a sharp bend or go down the side of a mountain steep enough to warrant a sign listing the grade (6% was our personal best).

Helaine isn’t comfortable with heights. This was not her ideal routing.

We made a left onto Route 9 in Mt. Carmel, Utah and headed into Zion National Park. Of all the scenery we’ve seen so far, this is the prettiest… the most awesome.

The park road is a narrow two lane affair – definitely not good for 65 mph! It is also the first ‘redtop’ road I’ve ever seen. I don’t know why it’s red. I’ll try and find out more tomorrow.

The road dipped and curved and hugged the side of steep mountains. As treacherous as the road is, there are two places which must be worse, because two tunnels are bored through mountainsides.

At the second tunnel there was construction, which set us back twenty minutes. It also allowed us twenty minutes to soak in the scenery.

We’re staying in Springdale, Utah tonight. Everything that was wrong with Kayenta and Page is absent here. This is a spectacular little town, with shops, restaurants, galleries and a free shuttle bus system!

I’ve only been here a few hours, but I’m loving Zion National Park and Springdale.

Tomorrow we’re going to take the shuttle to the park for a little exploring before hopping in the car and heading southwest to Las Vegas.

The Strange Drive to Kayenta

The guide books say 332 miles from Albuquerque to Kayenta, Arizona. What they fail to mention is the trip also crosses millions of years in scenery. At one point, Helaine asked me to look out for dinosaurs.

I’m getting ahead of myself.

I couldn’t sleep last night. When I can’t sleep, Helaine can’t sleep. We were in the car and heading west by 5:50 AM MDT.

There were scattered showers overnight in Albuquerque. It was still dark and spitting as we merged onto I-40. The speed limit is 65 mph in urban areas, but as soon as we left civilization (in this case a perfectly apt characterization) it went to 75 mph.

I’ve got a lead foot, but since I found the majority of cars doing the speed limit, I set the cruise control at 80 mph and hoped for the best.

Other than an Indian casino and a few truck stops (one at the Indian casino) there was nothing – 130 miles of nothing – until we got to Gallup.

Gallup, New Mexico is one of those places you see and say, “Why?” It is a nondescript little outpost with the normal collection of gas stations and franchise food joints.

We slid into Denny’s where everything I thought of Gallup was dashed. The staff couldn’t have been nicer, friendlier or more attentive. Could I take a sip of coffee before the waitress came back to freshen it?

Denny’s is located on US 491, though signs said it was formerly US 666! When you name a road 666, it says something about you. I’m thinking you don’t want to screw with these people.

We cut across New Mexico on two and four lane roads, into Arizona and then north on US 191.

What began as rolling scrubby hills in Gallup, led to a pine forest and then a succession of rocky vistas.

Every once in a while we’d pass a small community, often with cows or horses lazing along the side of, or in the middle of, the road. What was surprising is, often the cattle were on the road side of a fence, not the other way around!

We continue north as the scenery turned weird. I’m not sure how to describe it, but some of what we saw looked prehistoric. Imagine rugged rock monoliths draped in a primordial soup of clouds.

I’ll let the pictures do the talking.

After the Eagles game (priorities are priorities) we head to Monument Valley for sunset and more photos.

Full Day And The Glowdeo

After the morning balloon session, Helaine and I returned to the hotel for a while. The Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta has distinct morning and evening sessions (with separate admissions).

After a brief nap it was off to the tramway which climbs Sandia Peak. Only one problem. Everyone else in Albuquerque had the same idea. The Friday afternoon wait was two hours! Helaine wasn’t going to take the tram to the top anyway, so we left.

Even from the base of the tramway, over 6,000 feet above sea level, the view was excellent.

Next destination was Old Town Albuquerque, a picturesque area of artsy stores and native craftsmen. We walked around for a while and Helaine found something for Stef.

The Fox Family Secrecy Act of 2006 prevents me from disclosing what she got.

By the way, parking near Old Town is interesting. The parking lot has a series of boxes at one end. Each box has a slot where you put your money for parking. I slipped two dollars in the space marked 122.

We ended up overstaying our time, but got no ticket. I suspect it’s not heavily enforced. In fact, it sound like my money went all the way to the bottom, not my individual ‘cash cubby.’

Old Town is conveniently located next to Albuquerque’s museums. Helaine asked if I wanted to go to the Natural History Museum? I would have, had I not spied a small building, previously used for something else. It was the National Atomic Museum.

The signs outside made it look a little off center and not afraid to poke a little fun of itself. Was this a real museum or a sly museum takeoff?

The first thing I noticed inside was a collection of slide rules. I stopped to gape. This was my kind of place. Before calculators, I was a slide rule expert.

In the history of atomic energy, New Mexico stands tall. Remember, there’s a lot of space here… lots of room to do things you don’t want found out. Our first atomic test was held not far from Albuquerque.

We paid our admission, walked in, and quickly walked into the theater where a movie was about to start; “Ten Seconds That Changed The World.”

Narrated by Richard Basehart and produced by the legendary David L. Wolper, this was a collection of grainy black and white footage which traced the real history of the atomic age, all the way to Hiroshima.

It seemed like it was originally cut for TV with distinct fades to black for commercial inserts. Whatever the case, it was fascinating. It was jam packed with historical film I’d never seen before – really good stuff from the 40s.

As we left, Helaine said, “That was worth the price of admission.” It was.

We only spent a few more minutes in the museum before heading back to the hotel and then the park-n-ride bus to Balloon Fiesta Park. There sure is a lot more traffic on a Friday evening than a pre-dawn Friday morning.

It was still light out as we approached the park. A dozen or so balloons floated about the area. The real action was shaping up on the field.

The Sun went down. The balloons lit up. The was a “Glowdeo.”

Tethered balloons were kept inflated enough to float up, while their attached baskets sat on the ground. Lit from the inside, the balloons glowed in the fading twilight.

I can’t imagine there’s anything else like this anywhere. There were dozens… maybe hundreds of balloons. Most of the time, each was dark, sometimes illuminated by neighboring balloons. The scene was constantly changing and since the balloons were all cheek to jowel, walking a few feet changed the perspective.

I decided to leave my tripod in the car and take my monopod. The monopod provides plenty of support, but not the rock solid steadiness you’d get from a tripod.

In a perfect world, the tripod would have been a better choice. With a few hundred thousand of our closest friends it would have been a significantly more cumbersome one.

To make up for the monopod’s shortcomings and the fact that the gas jets on the balloons were constantly going on and off, I overshot. Sometimes I shot 4,5,6 snaps of the same thing, hoping one would work.

I also kept the shutter very slow, having it open for a quarter second at times. That kind of setting almost guarantees some blur, but most of my shots are very sharp.

As the “Glowdeo” came to an end, we grabbed some tasty junk food and waited for the fireworks… but this was the end of a very long day. About two thirds through the fireworks I turned to Helaine and said, “Let’s head to the bus.”