Photo of the day

It looks harder than it is. Especially without shoes. Roni and Ben attempt to traverse the shallow waters of the Verde River at Red Rock Crossing in Sedona, Ariz. Only Ben made it to the other shore, but only after taking a bath. Photo by Glenn.


September 28, 2005
[Day 11] << Go to >> [Day 13]

Where did all those trees come from? We leave the desert behind for just a bit as we head south from Flagstaff to Sedona on Highway 89A. Photo by Roni.


Sedona is truly spectacular under the right conditions. A little later in the day you get some pretty light on these red rocks. Even in the morning and early afternoon they're certainly pretty to look at. This was taken near Slide Rock State Park. Photo by Roni.


We'll probably never know exactly how Ben's photo of Mom might have turned out, because shortly after this was shot he dropped the camera into the drink at Red Rock Crossing. Photo by Roni.


Roni and Ben shop at yet another Indian jewelry display, this one located south of Slide Rock. Photo by Glenn.


Ben liked this onyx arrowhead necklace, which we bought for him. Photo by Glenn.


We haven't used Roni's old Minolta SLR since getting a digital camera more than three years ago. But she pulled it out for this trip knowing there would be plenty of scenic possibilities. Photo by Glenn.


And this is what Roni is photographing. More of Sedona's interesting rock formations. These undoubtedly have names, but I don't have my notes close at hand. Photo by Glenn.


More public art. In the city of Sedona there is a nice tourist district that features a plaza with this sculture on it. The sculpture of the little girl appears to be taking the artist's photo. Photo by Glenn.


This is our first view of Cathedral Rock. To get there requires driving on Red Rock Loop Road, which in places is very steep and rocky. Photo by Glenn.


The rocks here have a distinctive appearance. They are a red, claylike color. These are located right along the loop road. Photo by Glenn.


Red Rock Crossing is supposedly the most-photographed location in Arizona. I suppose it's folks like us who helped it earn that distinction. We've paid our separate $7 admission and are now inside the park proper, looking at Cathedral Rock. Photo by Glenn.


There is a large field at Red Rock Crossing that was being overrun by grasshoppers. Ben shows off one for the camera, but he was having more fun squashing them. Photo by Glenn.


Just beyond the locust-infested field is the Verde River. Looks harmless enough. Just wade out there and soon you'll be at the opposite bank, right?... Photo by Glenn.


...Wrong! The water may be shallow, but the rocks beneath are covered with moss. Ever try to walk barefoot across moss-covered rocks? Learning to ice skate is easier. This rock at the center of the river is as far as Glenn got. Photo by Roni.


Oh yeah, there's a little detail about getting back. Glenn didn't want to get his shoes wet, which made the challenge of crossing the river all the greater. Sure you've got your balance there? Photo by Roni.


Almost there. Wow, that current's a lot swifter than it looks... Photo by Roni.


There, back safe and sound, and the shoes still look dry. Photo by Roni.


So maybe the crossing part of Red Rock Crossing wasn't such a great idea for the three of us. This is a low falls a few yards downstream of where Glenn was trying to cross. As you can see, the Verde River isn't exactly stagnant. Photo by Glenn.


Ben didn't fare quite so well at Red Rock Crossing. Shoes soaked. Socks dripping. Hair matted. Yep, looks like he's been in the drink. Aw heck, it's only Dad's car, we can get the upholstery a little wet. Photo by Glenn.


We're climbing out of the canyon on the loop road back toward Sedona. The afternoon is wearing on and we've got to get to Kingman before dark. Still, there's time for one last photo before we go. Photo by Roni.

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A side trip to Sedona

Wednesday, September 28 (Day 12 ) — We are at that point you eventually reach on any vacation, no matter how much fun it has been, when you begin to feel the subtle tug of home. The scenery is still as beautiful, the activities still as enjoyable, but with each mile down the road you are that much closer to the end of the journey and the issues of your day-to-day life.

We woke up this morning in Flagstaff, Ariz., after a restless night. We all had our reasons for why we didn't sleep as well as we could have. For me, it was my allergies, which have kicked in with a vengeance since we arrived at Santa Fe three days ago. I'm not sure if it is the altitude or the presence of something in the air, or simply the stale air in the hotels where we are staying, but my nose was so stuffed that I could barely breathe most of the night. For Roni, it was a 6:30 a.m. phone call from her sister Jacki. For Ben, it was a return to Pacific Daylight Time and the fact that he had conditioned his body to waken an hour earlier than normal. Whatever the reasons, it was a happy coincidence that we were all up by 7:30 with plenty of time to spare before the buffet breakfast closed down at 9. The reservation clerk for Choice Hotels told Roni that this was supposed to be a "full breakfast." I guess that meant they serve scrambled eggs here. Not much different from the other continental feasts we've had the past couple of weeks.

Because we were so early in waking up, we already had the car mostly packed when it came time to leave. We set out about 9 a.m. and made a quick stop at the Osco drug store downtown to buy water, ice, postcards, film and batteries. Then we hopped on to I-40 and transferred to Alternate Highway 89 for a southbound tour of the Sedona red rocks area. We decided before heading out that we would spend the night in Kingman, Ariz., which gets us a little closer to home and gives us a few travel options for Thursday.

Sedona turned out to be a good choice. The rock formations and high cliffs are simply spectacular. A lot like the Grand Canyon but without all the hype and traffic headaches. Highway 89A winds through a deep canyon that lets you view the rocks from both sides of the road. You are required to purchase a parks pass if you plan to stop anywhere along the way to camp, hike, picnic or take pictures. We purchased ours for $5 from a self-serve kiosk at one of the roadside business areas. Unfortunately, the day-use fee does not gain you admission to Slide Rock, Red Rock Crossing or Oak Creek parks, which all carry an additional charge of $7 per vehicle. For a while we were content to follow Highway 89A, stopping at pullouts along the way to take pictures. At one of the roadside business areas we stopped at there was a market of Indian jewelry vendors. Ben found a necklace he liked for $8, so we got it for him. He is quite proud of it and wore it at several of the places where we visited.

We drove through the town of Sedona until we reached Red Rock Loop Road and followed that to Red Rock Crossing. The road gets you close to many of the red rocks, but a good portion of it is hilly and paved in dirt and crushed rock. I took that segment at about 5 mph out of fear I'd puncture a tire if I did anything more. At Red Rock Crossing we coughed up the $7 admission fee and went seeking out the perfect photo angle for a shot of Cathedral Rock, one of the rock formations. The park ranger showed us a postcard of the rocks she said could be photographed in the same way if we were to head down to the river about 75 yards away. Roni had her SLR loaded with a fresh roll of film just for the occasion. She searched high and low on the river trail and never did find the right angle for the postcard photo. She was skeptical that the postcard was shot recently, saying that perhaps trees had grown up to block the view. Who knows? The only thing left to do was venture along the half-mile riverfront trail to see if there was a better angle.

We hadn't gone far on the dirt trail when Ben spotted a young family out on some rocks in the middle of the river. If they could cross the shallow but steady current then so could we, Ben thought. He took off his shoes to carry over along with his camera and waded into the current. He hadn't gone far when he slipped on a mossy rock and landed flat on his rear in the water. The camera took a bath and now was inoperable. Fortunately, Ben was unharmed although drenched. Having witnessed Ben's failed attempt to cross, I made sure to leave the digital camera equipment with Roni on the shore. Surely there was an easier way to reach the center of the river. I waded in barefoot, carefully trying to balance myself with each step. But I, too, struggled to maintain my footing on the slick rocks and lost my balance, saving myself from a soaking at the last possible moment. I got a flew splashes on my shorts, but nothing major. I continued to ford the river with my shoes and socks in one hand, slipping on the rocks as thought they were a big slab of ice and I was on skates for the first time. I eventually had to use my free hand to help inch my way past the slippery parts. At last I reached the dry rocks in the center of the river and had a spectacular view of the mountains in the distance. I regretted not having the camera. There was no way I would have encouraged Roni to try to make the crossing with all the camera gear.

Ben meanwhile was getting about nicely since he'd put his shoes on again. They were soaked in his fall so he had nothing to lose by wearing them. The rubber soles got good traction on the mossy rocks. I didn't have that luxury and had to find my way back to shore the same way I'd reached the center of the river. I slipped and slid my way through shallow and deep currents alike, hanging on for dear life with my free hand. At one point I had my left foot wedged deep in a crevice between two boulders to give a better foothold, which as I think about it now probably wasn't a very smart idea. I was straddling a very slippery boulder, unable to lift my left foot easily because doing so would have plopped me in the drink. I used my free hand again to provide enough leverage to get my left leg out of the crevice and back on the shallower river bed. I finally reached the main bank while Roni documented my plight. As much of an adventure as this had been I was nonetheless glad it was over. We got Ben changed into some dry clothes at the car and then made our way through the rest of the Red Rock Loop back to Sedona.

I think Sedona best compares to South Lake Tahoe. You don't have casinos, but there is a pretty active tourist district with name hotels, nice restaurants and a wide variety of art galleries and gift shops. We didn't stop at any of those. We wanted lunch before we hit the road for the drive up to Kingman, but it was virtually impossible to make a lefthand turn through the steady flow of traffic. I somehow found my way through the snarl and we proceeded north on 89A the way we had come. One of the disadvantages of being the designated driver is that you don't get to do a lot of sightseeing when you're paying attention to the road. Roni took plenty of photos from the car window, but this is really a place where you need to just get out of the car and linger for a bit. Unfortunately there aren't a lot of convenient pullouts through Red Rocks.

By the time we reached Flagstaff again it was well past lunch time. We decided on fast food to avoid wasting a lot of time at a sit-down restaurant. Roni and I were holding out for Sonic, but when we didn't find one we settled for Burger King. Ben didn't mind, because they are doing a Danny Phantom promotion with the Kids' Meals and he got a new toy to keep him occupied on the drive. And it was a longer drive than we expected. It is just 150 miles on the map, but I-40 through these parts is just two lanes in either direction and sections are in poor repair. The road travels through some hilly terrain and is frequented by truckers who drive too fast. It was after 3:30 by the time we left Flagstaff, so I was figuring sometime around 6 p.m. to get in to Kingman. Ben has to find a bathroom, so we pulled off at Ash Fork and stopped at a Chevron station that had a convenience store and gift shop. He was nervous about going inside the place because he wasn't wearing any shoes or socks since the river incident and was mindful of the "no shirt, no shoes, no service" warnings that are often posted on the doors of such places. We told him not to worry about it this time and that anyone who was concerned about such policies would surely understand. Roni tried to find him a pair of sandals in the neighboring gift shop, but all they had were Indian moccasins. We'd just have to wait until we got to the hotel.

All the traveling we have done along Interstate 40 and the gift shops touting Route 66 merchandise has fueled my interest in driving this historic, nostalgic road. I have mentioned previously about how you can only drive the old Route 66 in bits and pieces, most of which are extremely short segments that run through the hearts of cities that once sat along the "Mother Road," as it is still known. But just west of Ash Fork you will find Exit 139 off of I-40 that leads to a fairly long — 17 miles — segment that follows the mountain backcountry all the way in to Seligman. Having wanted to drive a long portion of Route 66 and running out of opportunities, and considering that my only other option was to continue on I-40 with the big rigs, I made a command decision to take the side road. Bad idea for family harmony, however. It had been a long day, we were running behind schedule, and Roni was more interested in getting us to our hotel room than in taking a slow cruise down memory lane. It would take us miles out of our way, she feared. I told her I'd put money on a bet that it wouldn't, because why else would the sign at the start of the old highway tell us that Seligman was just 17 miles away? It was about the same distance on I-40. So I took a chance that I would be horribly wrong and have to eat crow for the rest of the night, but if I had to eat crow then I would make sure I'd had a good trip getting to the dinner plate. As I'd predicted, the road eventually led us into the back entrance of Seligman after a pleasant detour through rolling mountains flanked with meadows, rock formations and scrubland made more attractive by the setting afternoon sun. There were also some abandoned buildings and Burma Shave-style signs to add to the nostalgia of it all. Alas, there are no photos because my better have was stewing and refused to take them from the moving car, and I thought better of stopping for shots, which would have added time to the trip.

Frankly, she was probably right about taking lengthy side trips. While my Route 66 diversion perhaps added five minutes to the total trip, there was a more pressing matter that had my attention, which was the drooping gas gauge. I hadn't tanked up since Gallup and all this hill driving was chewing through my fuel. I felt confident there would be enough to get us into Kingman, but I knew it would likely be pretty close. The warning lamp was solid red by the time I pulled off the interstate at our destination, 422 miles from the point of the last fueling — almost 240 of those miles today. Good thing the Comfort Inn was just a block from the offramp. We checked into Room 204 just before 6:30, amazed that what was supposed to have been an easy day turned into a marathon.

This hotel is odd. It is three stories with no parking out front near the street. We had to drive around to the rear where there is a good-sized lot, then walk our stuff through the back door and take an elevator up to our room. We didn't see any stairs. There is an indoor pool, where Ben and I went swimming before dinner while Roni washed and dried Ben's wet clothes and shoes. Ben was surprised I wanted to go for a swim as usually he has to twist my arm to get me in the pool. But I thought a nice soak would feel good after the long drive. Surprisingly enough, the pool water was cold. I had hoped for something heated like we had at Alamogordo. Ah well. We hadn't been in the water long when some guy, presumably another hotel guest, came to join us. He set up in the adjacent hot tub and proceeded to start singing. The longer he sat there the louder he got. I'm not sure if he was just a happy-go-lucky singing sort of fellow or if he was a little off his rocker, but eventually he creeped me out enough that Ben and I returned to the room. No problem really, because I was ready to come out of the water and our dinner was on its way. We'd ordered salads from a delivery place in town. It was perfect for us as no one had much of an appetite after the long drive.

I tried to complete this entry tonight, but I guess I was a lot more tired than I realized. I got some pretty major stomach cramps following my swim and am having a tough time sliding off the bed or out of chairs without feeling pain. Not sure what I did differently in the pool this time, but I'll try to avoid doing it again. There is no desk in this room at which to write, so I've been juggling the laptop on my legs and on the floor. All too uncomfortable in my present state of pain. I shut the computer down around 11:30 when I found myself literally falling asleep at the keyboard. That's a sign that it is definitely time to call it a day and come back to the journal tomorrow — which is what I just did.

This page was last updated on Friday, October 28, 2005 at 00:54 hrs.

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