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I disposed of the map that I needed to use to clean up after my dog and immediately felt nervous about getting lost in the park.  If you have ever been to the Grand Canyon, you know this is a rather idiotic statement.  First, there are a ton of people there and even though they might be just as clueless as I, they likely did not have to dispose of their map, so they would likely let me borrow it for a moment or two.  Second, there is this gigantic hole in the ground that serves as a fairly good reference point–as long as you remember what side your on.  I think even I could handle that.

Despite all these people all over the place, I talked to only seven people all day.  Three different people talked to me about Ibo (because she was part Ridgeback, not due to her memorable intro at the Grand Canyon).  I talked to a French family from Nice, they were very nice (har, har).  I broke out my French to talk to them and they were kind enough to lie and say they thought I was French.  Three others mentioned the In and Out T-shirt I was sporting.  I had mixed feelings about that.  I missed having one last double-double animal style, but all of the people who pointed out the shirt were significantly over weight (is that one word or two?).  Maybe it was a good thing I did not have that last burger….

Ibo and I left the Grand Canyon (and the map) behind and it was off to Monument Valley, Utah/Arizona.  I asked the guy at the gift shop how far it was.  He said four and a half hours.  He added that he was heading up that way later as well.  And he smiled.  But it was a really creepy kind of smile.  Maybe I have seen too many movies, or perhaps I’m a little paranoid, but the clerk did look a little overly ‘happy’ and he was staring at Ibo in a way that, well, let’s not go there.

Monument Valley was incredible.  Just like the Grand Canyon, I can’t describe it, so I won’t try.  It was almost surreal.  But I had a great time.  Took a ton of pictures.  Played classical music.  As I passed a group on horseback, the William Tell Overture came on.  No kidding.  I laughed out loud.

Not my photo. It came from here.

I did not have time to go to Four Corners (I’ll go tomorrow).  So I decided to take the back roads to a teeny little town in the AAA guidebook: Bluff, Utah, home of the Kokopelli Inn.  Obviously, I did not learn my lesson from the Hotel Brunswick.

As I was leaving the Monument Valley area, three different thunderstorms broke out over the area.  You can see for miles and miles, so it was easy to watch all three.  Added to this, the sun was setting and breaking through the clouds.  I decided to take some more pictures, since I see myself as this incredible photographer (but I have no real reason to believe this, only an inner belief of my artistic prowess).  I stood there as the storms raged on, trying to get a thunder bolt on film.  The camera would not take the picture even though I was clicking away.  It would have been a great shot: setting sun, huge sandstone monuments, and lightening bolts.  I had that shot three times, trust me, but no proof.  I decided to leave when a tree about 300 yards away was hit by lightening and then started on fire.  Good time to skidaddle, I figured.  Or maybe sashay.  Whatever these Western folk say.  I always try and blend in with the locals, you know.

Tomorrow: Four Corners; Durango; driving up through the Rockies (four passes).  I’ll try to get a few miles east of Denver.

The saga continues:

Part Five

Previous Episodes:

Travels with Ibo Part 1: Drive East-Search for Gas

Travels with Ibo Part 2: Hotel Brunswick

Travels with Ibo Part 3: The Grand Canyon