Monday, April 1, 2024

Remembering San Juan River Bridge Leaps To Many Memories


Another memory from Microsoft's OneDrive Memory from this Day that I remember fondly. Though this took place in October, not April.

Way back in the final days of 1993 I was on my way to Moab. The day before had been spent at the Grand Canyon, overnighting in Flagstaff.

On the way to Moab I drove into Monument Valley. Driving in Monument Valley one feels like one is in a movie.

Leaving Monument Valley, continuing north, you leave the Navajo Nation when you come to the border between Arizona and Utah, with the San Juan River marking the border, at the location where I left Arizona to cross into Utah.

Crossing that bridge upon which you see me standing atop the arch, to the left of the bridge, I saw this incredible looking lodging facility nestled against the cliff. I remarked that one day I want to come and stay there.

The next day, in Moab, was New Year's Day of 1994. That day I went to Arches National Park and Canyonlands National Park. From Islands in the Sky in Canyonlands, I saw mountain bikers biking the valley, far below.

I vowed then that when I was back in Washington I would get a mountain bike and return to Moab to mountain bike.

I did so, but it was a couple years later that I made it back to Moab with my bike, to ride with a group called MudSluts.

Before returning to Moab, I went houseboating on Lake Powell. This was a group adventure involving six floaters in one boat and two vehicles. I made the reservations for the trip, the houseboats, North Rim Grand Canyon log cabins, the Lodge in Zion National Park, Excalibur in Vegas and a fun oasis called Stovepipe Wells in Death Valley.

But, the best reservation I made that trip was booking rooms at that lodging facility I'd seen when crossing the San Juan River, years previous, the San Juan Inn in Mexican Hat.

Five years later the Lake Powell houseboat experience was repeated, with a larger group of floaters. That time we also stayed at the San Juan Inn in Mexican Hat.

I forgot to make mention of the Moki Dugway.

Leaving Lake Powell, the route to Mexican Hat, well, the one I chose, both times, takes one to the brink of a precipice. A big warning sign tells you to stop and assess the risk. The Moki Dugway is a primitive road which steeply switchbacks back and forth to the valley floor.

The driver in the second vehicle had a panic attack, so a driver from my vehicle took over driving the other vehicle while the panicked driver put a pillowcase over his head and swilled vodka. His wife was also borderline hysterical.

The second time down the Moki Dugway three vehicles were involved. No one panicked that time. At least, no one panicked that I was aware of.

So, did the San Juan Inn in Mexican Hat turn out to be as fun as I hoped?

Yes, it did. The San Juan Inn has a trading post attached. And a restaurant, where everyone running the place was Navajo. Our waitress was always a friendly Navajo beauty who greatly appreciated our interest in her people. This location was my first experience of having Indian Fry Bread. So good.

Our waitress told us several things, including the fact the Navajo refer to themselves as "Dine", which literally means "The People".

I used to go on roadtrips at least once a year. Sometimes real long roadtrips. Since moving to Texas, the only roadtrips have been driving back to Washington several times, once to Arizona.

I don't think roadtripping to Oklahoma and Louisiana count...

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