Roadblocked In Texas Remembering Roadtripping Monument Valley Etcetera

A Microsoft OneDrive Memory from this Day, that I do remember. And I do remember this memory happened in October. The exact day, I do not remember. Or the exact year. It was either 1997 or 1998.

That is me looking into the lens of my long gone antique Casio digital camera, with its selfie taking feature which was years ahead of its time.

The others in the photo were floaters with me on Lake Powell, living on a houseboat for four days. In the photo, from left to right, that is Danielle, then Wally, next to his twin, Big Ed, then the twin's little sister, Lydia, with Wally's first wife, Wanda on the right. Not in the photo were fellow floaters, Danielle's first husband, Ross, and Lydia's first husband, Keith.

The scenery in the photo likely looks familiar if you've ever watched a movie set in the Wild West, such as Stagecoach, and many others. That is a section of Monument Valley you are looking at. 

I am a bit confused as to the itinerary of this trip. I think our first destination was Moab, for a few days, exploring Arches National Park and the Fiery Furnace and Canyonlands National Park. And mountain biking the Slick Rock Trail.

From Moab we trekked to Bullfrog Basin on Lake Powell, from whence we houseboated. Getting off the houseboat we ferried across Lake Powell. I think the ferry was called Hall's Crossing. I may be wrong about that.

After the houseboat the destination was Mexican Hat and the San Juan Inn. The route to that Inn involved driving down the treacherous Moki Dugway. It was from Mexican Hat we crossed the San Juan River into the Navaho Nation and Monument Valley.

After Monument Valley it was back to Moab for a couple days. Then the group split up, my remaining group heading to Durango, overnighting in Silverton, then on to Taos, Alamogordo, White Sands National Park, Tombstone, Yuma, Algodones, Mexico, Las Vegas, then back to Washington.

This turned out to be the last long roadtrip I have tripped on. Well, unless you count the drives back and forth between Texas and Washington....

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...

The Return Of The Shadow Of The Tandy Hills Thin Man

Yesterday I needed two layers, a windbreaker and a wool hat to survive the icy Tandy Hills. Today the sun was back, I only needed one layer, no windbreaker, due to there being no wind, and I probably should have not had the hat on.

As you can see, due to my weakened condition I am now using a walking stick. Also known as a cane.

A couple days ago Alma, the Songbird of the Texas Gulf Coast, announced the shocking news that she'd been advised that maybe it was time for her to start using a cane. Alma and I then commiserated about our co-misery.

I heard the phone ring and go to voice mail whilst I was eating lunch and watching John Wayne and a Stagecoach get chased by Indians in Monument Valley.

It seems like I was just in Monument Valley. But it was at least 13 years ago. This is very disturbing for me to realize. That means it is at least 13 years since I've driven down the Moki Dugway and stayed in Mexican Hat at the San Juan Inn.

Enough of thinking about the depressing fact that time flies by.

After I was done getting aerobicized on the Tandy Hills I went to Town Talk. Busiest I have ever seen it. Which is the same thing I said last Saturday. This must have to do with Christmas. But I don't remember this phenomenon last Christmas. The warehouse was open again. I did not get organic grapefruit this week. But, I did get a case of V-8, sirloin steak, lasagna, shrimp and other stuff I'm forgetting right now.