18th – 22st Dec
From Casa Grande, just south of Phoenix, we headed north. This was a ‘highway day’, a 200 mile straight-line drive with a 6000ft gain of elevation. Destination, Flagstaff. Today we bade farewell to the mild temperatures of the desert lowlands and headed to the hills and to winter proper. With sub-freezing overnight temperatures, and some persisting snow piles from the last winter storm, this was to to be where the summer clothes finally got put away, and operation ‘stay warm’ began.
We didn’t stop in Phoenix, the largest state capitol in the country. We were swept through it on the urban highway, surrounded by hurtling cars and trucks, many with no concept of indicators, stopping distances or the ‘passing on the left’ rule. The usual considerate driving manners of the American motorist do not seem to apply on Interstate highways where they become cast members of Fast and Furious. It is interesting that this does not seem to provoke any road rage incidents (that we have seen) and I surmise that the widespread carrying of firearms is the reason for this. It was a tense 20 mins, but we got through without incident. North of Phoenix the road climbed to a desolate plateau and we rolled onwards and upwards for the next 2 hours. The scenery just continued to be magnificent. It seems endless.
Flagstaff is at 7000ft and is a city of about 70,000. It is busy place, being situated at a junction of 2 major Interstates and it is a major railway hub. The Grand Canyon is only about 70 miles from here, but our route there will be a longer way round, passing up into Utah and doing a big loop of the big National Parks before heading back to The Grand Canyon, another 1000 miles or so. Our RV park here was called Blackbarts, co-located with a locally renowned steak restaurant and bar of the same name. (Pro.) It was an easy 15 minute cycle to town on dedicated bike trails, (Pro.) and there were shops for us to do our ‘limited-budget-stocking-filler-only’ Christmas shopping for each other. (Pro.) It also had a restaurant in town that served the finest Cornish pasties and scotch eggs that we have ever consumed. (Big Pro, apologies to Cornwall and Yorkshire (look it up)!). It was a bit noisy because the camp was right next to the aforementioned highway and railway. (Con.) It was cold at night (Con.)
Below freezing temps overnight meant that we had to work a bit harder to stay warm. Tin Can is ‘Four Seasons’ certified, meaning that it is (sort of) insulated and has an LPG furnace heater. This ducts some warm air around the internal pipes and tanks meaning that they stay defrosted but the hose connection to the mains water needed disconnecting at night. There are also some insulated pads to put up at the ceiling vents and I have fashioned some blanket covers for the door and windows. Condensation is the scourge of winter camping and all the hard work of keeping warm at night is undone by having to open everything up in the daytime to dry out. At least the sun is usually shining and the ambient humidity is low so this is a manageable battle currently. It doesn’t seem that long ago since we were in Galveston, Tx, in 95F/35C temps with 100% humidity, having to sit inside with the air con blasting. I can safely say that the middle ground is a sweet spot in the RV life, but we are not miserable. We would much rather be trying to stay warm than battling heat and humidity, and that is why, I remind myself, we are here at this time of year.
On one of our evenings here we made the long trek (about 50 paces) to the steak restaurant for dinner. This was a quirky place with a large main room, a small seperate bar with real life saloon doors and a roaring log fire in the foyer area flanked by couple of comfy seats. We deliberately went over a bit early, and annexed the fireside spot with our pre-dinner drinks. Our steaks were respectable, although the meal might have been enhanced by them being served at the same time, but the defining feature of the evening was the musical revue. At regular intervals the wait staff would take turns to sing a song on a small stage in the corner of the dining room, accompanied on the piano by a lady that looked like every primary school music teacher that I have ever come across. Every so often all the staff would stop in their tracks and sing a chorus-line tune. It was quite entertaining, but probably explains why the service wasn’t perfect.
From Flagstaff we headed east to the town of Holbrook. This seemed a bit counterintuitive to the overarching East-West itinerary of this trip, but that’s where our next destination, The Petrified Forest National Park is. This park protects an area of large fossilised tree trunks, and was about a 20km drive from our overnight camp. Our plan was to do a drive-through of the park, stopping for a couple of short hikes, and then continue on our journey up north to Utah. Well that was the plan until the small matter of a man wanting a wall and because he didn’t get it, partly shutting down the federal government. And that included the National Park funding. This was what greeted us at the entrance to the Petrified Forest.
Well that was a waste of time and fuel. We were slightly apprehensive about what the shut-down might mean for the next month of our trip, which was entirely centred around the National Parks of Utah. It was too early to tell. We got back on the road, retraced our steps back to Holbrook and then northwards.
We hadn’t forward booked our next night’s park, but were headed to a town called Chinle, a service town in the middle of Navajo Nation lands. It is home to The Canyon De Chelly, a mini version of the Grand Canyon, managed by the National Park Service, with a small first-come-first-served campsite co-located with the visitors centre. (Can you see where this is is going…?)
The drive up to Chinle, about 100 miles was another deserted road through the wilderness. Miles and miles of nothingness with the odd flimsy house/shack/mobile home surrounded by a halo of rotting vehicles. People are poor here. There were a few cars headed south, but no-one else going in our direction, which was a bit disconcerting. We arrived in Chinle and it was a very bleak place. A chaotic collection of prefab buildings, high razor-wire fences surrounding government agency compounds and litter everywhere. Our low of the morning was deepening. We left the main road and drove the 5 miles up to the Canyon. Of course the visitor centre and the campsite were both closed. There were no real other choices for camping, and besides, we didn’t want to be here.
We took a quick look at the Canyon from a couple of lookouts. Going for a walk was not an option. As this is Navajo Nation land, you can only enter the Canyon with a licensed guide. We had a short pow-wow (pun intended, and code for a short irritable marital discussion) and decided to hit the road again. Our planned destination for the next night, and Christmas, was Monument Valley. It was easily within striking distance that afternoon and we were confident our park would be able to accomodate us a day early. The next two hours of driving were along one of the most magnificent roads that we have travelled so far. A road of no name, with no credentials, featuring in no ‘top-roads-to-travel’ lists, and certainly with no instagram followers. We cheered up quickly and enjoyed the ride, rolling into Monument Valley during the amazing light of late afternoon and a fantastic sunset.
