A civilized start time from the Arotca home in Fresno, we leave with plans to stay at Valley of Fire, Nevada State Park, east of Las Vegas. Yet we are curious about billboards erected along our route advertising motel rooms for "as low as $27 per night". Sue checks out the details and reviews on her phone. Virgin River Casino in Mesquite, NV is legit - though (as always) there are a few complaints. We figure that a room with a/c will be cheaper than paying the entrance and camping fees at the Valley of Fire. I am all about value.
Through the ordinary doors of the casino complex we are ushered into the underworld where we walk through dingy aisles lined with decrepit old white people with either cigarettes or oxygen tubes hanging from their face. They dutifully sit with mindless expressions as they pour their pensions into blinking machines each emitting inane techno sounds. Is this Hell?
Because of demand, the room rates have gone up to $32/night, but we shell out the extra $5 and check in. We unpack and head back to the tomb like structure that is the casino, and make our way to the house cafe. I good prime rib dinner can be had for $6.99. Is this Heaven? I am all about value.
In the morning we bust out of the thin walled rooms of our purgatory and are going east from Mesquite, we are almost immediately in Utah, the we drop into Arizona. We continue east for our final Go West! destination: Canyon de Chelly.
We pass up the Grand Canyon ("next time" says my wife), as Sue says Canyon de Chelly is on her "bucket list". We are in Navajo Country. The Navajo have there reservation here, and we also have a reservation - at the Sacred Canyon Lodge :) inside Canyon de Chelly National Monument.
With the remaining daylight, we travel along the south rim of the canyon. The first overlook we stop at, a sister and brother Navajo are selling jewelry. Sue selects a couple of necklaces. At the next overlook on the south rim, two young Navajo men are sitting on a blanket with modern petroglyphs etched into sandstone slabs.
"Hey, would you like some Indian art from Canyon De Chelly?"
I tell them, "Nice work, but no thanks."
"Only ten dollars. Looks real good, no?"
I suggest to Sue that she put on her just purchased Navajo Indian necklace to help ward off the hustle from the set of entrepreneurs we are sure to find at our next stop.
White people are not allowed into the Canyon, unless accompanied by a Navajo, for which a tour fee must be paid. The one exception is the trail that runs down the 600 foot wall of the south rim to the valley floor, opposite the White House Ruins. The White House Ruins were built by the area's inhabitants prior to the arrival of the Navajo people about 700 years ago. The cliff dwellings were built around 1100 to 1300 AD. From the rim we look at the White House trail and contemplate making the hike, but with the dwindling light and closing of the the trading post cafeteria at 7, we opt to consider the hike tomorrow.
Besides, I want to get to Spider Rock at the end of the South Rim tour loop and get back for dinner. The literature recommends the Navajo lamb and green pepper stew back at the Trading Post Cafeteria.
Cutting it short, we turn back toward our lodging and dinner at the Canyon's entrance. In the twilight I see a young man walking on the side of the road with his left thumb sticking out. I slow to a stop and Thomas hops into our back seat, having to rearrange our piles of clothing, a cooler and a mound of vacationer's haphazardly thrown gear in order to find some room. He says, "Chinle". He was visiting his auntie and was heading back to town, no, he didn't know anything about tours of the Canyon. Our conversation was abbreviated. I dropped him off at the National Monument gate, explaining we were trying to make it to dinner before 7 and could go no further (it was 6:53).
The touted Navajo lamb and green pepper stew served at the Sacred Canyon Cafeteria was in reality, more of a thin soup. However, we both chose the option of Indian fry bread on the side. The Germans at the next table over, kept taking furtive glances at our vidals, either out of curiosity or jealousy for not having ordered their own fry bread - or may a bit of both.
The rumor of mourning rain turned into a cold wet fact as we began to tour the North Rim of the Canyon. We took a gander at more Anasazi cliff dwelling ruins below us at the Antelope House and the Mummy Cave Ruins.
The rain, most assuredly welcome in this arid region began to come down upon us in a steady fashion, going from shower to driving storm. We checked the exterior temperature from our car's dash console and saw it to be 50 degrees. With our clothing saturated and our Canyon De Chelly experience sated, we decided not to try the White House Ruins trail in this weather. So we broke out some towels, dried ourselves and I turned the steering wheel toward Texas.
We pulled into our driveway just before 2 AM.
We drove hard, took chances, and had a marvelous adventure out west every single day.
As life should be.
Through the ordinary doors of the casino complex we are ushered into the underworld where we walk through dingy aisles lined with decrepit old white people with either cigarettes or oxygen tubes hanging from their face. They dutifully sit with mindless expressions as they pour their pensions into blinking machines each emitting inane techno sounds. Is this Hell?
Because of demand, the room rates have gone up to $32/night, but we shell out the extra $5 and check in. We unpack and head back to the tomb like structure that is the casino, and make our way to the house cafe. I good prime rib dinner can be had for $6.99. Is this Heaven? I am all about value.
In the morning we bust out of the thin walled rooms of our purgatory and are going east from Mesquite, we are almost immediately in Utah, the we drop into Arizona. We continue east for our final Go West! destination: Canyon de Chelly.
We pass up the Grand Canyon ("next time" says my wife), as Sue says Canyon de Chelly is on her "bucket list". We are in Navajo Country. The Navajo have there reservation here, and we also have a reservation - at the Sacred Canyon Lodge :) inside Canyon de Chelly National Monument.
With the remaining daylight, we travel along the south rim of the canyon. The first overlook we stop at, a sister and brother Navajo are selling jewelry. Sue selects a couple of necklaces. At the next overlook on the south rim, two young Navajo men are sitting on a blanket with modern petroglyphs etched into sandstone slabs.
"Hey, would you like some Indian art from Canyon De Chelly?"
I tell them, "Nice work, but no thanks."
"Only ten dollars. Looks real good, no?"
I suggest to Sue that she put on her just purchased Navajo Indian necklace to help ward off the hustle from the set of entrepreneurs we are sure to find at our next stop.
 |
| The Window Our first overview stop on the south rim |
 |
| Canyon De Chelly The Navajo People still inhabit the valley floor where you can see their farms and homes from above |
White people are not allowed into the Canyon, unless accompanied by a Navajo, for which a tour fee must be paid. The one exception is the trail that runs down the 600 foot wall of the south rim to the valley floor, opposite the White House Ruins. The White House Ruins were built by the area's inhabitants prior to the arrival of the Navajo people about 700 years ago. The cliff dwellings were built around 1100 to 1300 AD. From the rim we look at the White House trail and contemplate making the hike, but with the dwindling light and closing of the the trading post cafeteria at 7, we opt to consider the hike tomorrow.
 |
| White House Ruins Cliff Dwellings built by the Anasazi 1100-1300 AD |
Besides, I want to get to Spider Rock at the end of the South Rim tour loop and get back for dinner. The literature recommends the Navajo lamb and green pepper stew back at the Trading Post Cafeteria.
 |
| Spider Rock |
 |
| Spider Rock Canyon De Chelly National Monument |
Cutting it short, we turn back toward our lodging and dinner at the Canyon's entrance. In the twilight I see a young man walking on the side of the road with his left thumb sticking out. I slow to a stop and Thomas hops into our back seat, having to rearrange our piles of clothing, a cooler and a mound of vacationer's haphazardly thrown gear in order to find some room. He says, "Chinle". He was visiting his auntie and was heading back to town, no, he didn't know anything about tours of the Canyon. Our conversation was abbreviated. I dropped him off at the National Monument gate, explaining we were trying to make it to dinner before 7 and could go no further (it was 6:53).
The touted Navajo lamb and green pepper stew served at the Sacred Canyon Cafeteria was in reality, more of a thin soup. However, we both chose the option of Indian fry bread on the side. The Germans at the next table over, kept taking furtive glances at our vidals, either out of curiosity or jealousy for not having ordered their own fry bread - or may a bit of both.
The rumor of mourning rain turned into a cold wet fact as we began to tour the North Rim of the Canyon. We took a gander at more Anasazi cliff dwelling ruins below us at the Antelope House and the Mummy Cave Ruins.
 |
| Mummy Cave Ruins |
The rain, most assuredly welcome in this arid region began to come down upon us in a steady fashion, going from shower to driving storm. We checked the exterior temperature from our car's dash console and saw it to be 50 degrees. With our clothing saturated and our Canyon De Chelly experience sated, we decided not to try the White House Ruins trail in this weather. So we broke out some towels, dried ourselves and I turned the steering wheel toward Texas.
 |
| Pouring rain and 50 degree weather on the North Rim |
 |
| A rainy day in Canyon de Chelly |
We pulled into our driveway just before 2 AM.
We drove hard, took chances, and had a marvelous adventure out west every single day.
As life should be.
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