8/25/05

Started a bit earlier today and left Williams, AZ, the base of the Grand Canyon, for the mythical place itself (On a side note, Andy and I have made a commitment to doing our best to stay in towns that double as first/last names when possible). Andy treated me to an Imax film about the Grand Canyon, one of THE most breathtaking portrayals of nature. I don't think I've ever felt so overwhelmed by a place without having been there. The scenes depicting the Colorado river rapids inspired such vertigo, owing to the size of the screen...maybe I'll feel compelled to travel them in their full glory, many many rivers of experince later. A fall trip back to the CO river with Adventure Sports at UCSB might be the place to start, come to think of it.

Actually viewing the canyon from various vistas affected my differently than the film. It was as though I were looking at a model of the Grand Canyon because our distance and perspective were so far removed , compared to the 3-story panoramas in the theater. It felt like one of nature's camouflaging techniques to deter--or perhaps seduce--invaders with the illusion that the distances and rivers were minute; or perhaps that's the only way we can actually comprehend the place, because the canyon's actual grandeur simply CANNOT be envisioned in the mind of man.

After the pleasantly humbling homage to a natural wonder, it was south on 64, to join up with 89, which lead us back to our third companion, I-40. Some caffinated refuling and the comforting warble and strum of Ani Difranco took us past the remaining high desert of Arizona, down through gentle rolling scrub, chaparral, past bushes that looked like round, sedated bovines dotting the plains to what we have determined to be the rust belt of the Sun Belt: Gallup, New Mexico.

In addition to the melancholy evidence of rez-life trailors along the back side of Desert View--facing red-tinged limestone walls--are the sadly abundant numbers of "authentic" Indian "craft markets", "trade posts", "pow wows" and discount centers. I would feel guilty just stopping to investigate, I think I'd still feel like I'd be exploiting their ornamental traditions or culture in some way. Maybe I'm just hyper-sensitized, with the type of attitude common to the luxury of student life; maybe some of these folks make a damn fine, or dencent living selling easily assembled turquoise bangles to road trippers. But I doubt it.

Anyhow, we're at the Red Roof Inn in Gallup, digesting surprisingly fulfilling meals from Olympic Kitchen. We sat outside on a patio that may, I suspect, represent al fresco dining west of California" white plastic lattice over"grown" with "ivy", faux river rock waterfall illuminated by pink light, plastic chili garlands lining archways...and of course, Sinatra's crooning to round out the chintz. I was charmed despite myself, and having to wait 20-30 minutes between appetizers was a nice step to slowing my pulse, so I can better use my energy taking in all this beautiful America.

We scored another decent 400 miles today, incidentally. Not to mention a sign, heading back to Flagstaff, reading "ICE COLD BEER + AMMO"; What better combo!