Day 7: This Rocks.

447 miles. 370 pictures. 2 spontaneous detours. 4 states. 2 Tribal Nations. 14 hours. 8 zillion rocks. 1 incredibly dirty car.

ZERO arguments.

This day has been utterly exhausting, but it has been magnificent.

There’s honestly not much more to say than the above numbers, so you get pictures. A lot of pictures. My apologies to your bandwidth.

We left Farmington, NM, this morning headed toward Four Corners Monument in the Navajo Nation. Google suggested it may be closed on Sunday, but Google also said it was closed on Saturday. I’m pretty sure the Navajo Nation is smarter than to let that money-making opportunity pass them by, right? Nobody else seemed to mention it being closed on weekends, so we chanced it.

Not only was it open, there was a line.

 

It also wasn’t the dinky little concrete slab that I recalled from my previous visit to Four Corners in 1983. Nope. It’s all fancy now. And pay-to-enter, but at least it’s cheap.

After much debate on poses and how best to put ourselves in 4 states and 2 Tribal Nations at once, I bit the bullet, hefted Earl on my back, planted my feet dead center of the marker, and raised my trusty iPhone.

There were other photos taken as well, but that one’s my favorite by far, so that’s the one you get.

We shopped the little shops around the perimeter of the monument, picked up a dream catcher and a couple of small odds and ends, and hit the road with Flagstaff in mind.

It was all going so well until we crossed into Kayenta, Arizona, when I realized we were close to Monument Valley. Earl grumbled. “Oh come on,” I said, “It’s just half an hour up the road. We go, we take a couple of pictures, boom, we’re done.”

She sighed. “Okay.”

This is becoming a pattern, but so long as she keeps enjoying it in the end, I’m good with that.

A few miles in to the drive, she was even getting into it, popping out the sunroof for the best angle for a picture of one of the first formations we saw close up.

Monument Valley ended up not being the hour detour I’d expected. It was, instead, a pay-to-enter (not nearly as cheap as Four Corners) self-guided tour around a 3 miles loop road.

A dirt loop road.

With ruts.

For three. entire. miles.

Not that I noticed the ruts because, OMG, the rocks.

Here. I’ll shut up and let you look.

 

At an overlook full of foreign-tongued tourists, I tried to get a good shot of Earl with the scenery. She gave me a half baked smile. “Pose!” I encouraged. She put a hand on her hip, her eyes darting to the side. “Wait, what’s the number one rule here? That’s not my Earl! Have some fun!” She gave me a mean face, both hands on her hips. “No, no, no. Something silly. Have fun!” Her eyes flicked again to the people who were paying her absolutely no attention. “Don’t worry about them,” I nudged, “Just do you.”

Bingo.

 

I gave her a big ol’ hug, told her I was proud of her, and let her buy a pair of dreamcatcher earrings.

Halfway through the loop road, my mother, who is tracking us via the wonders of GPS, started texting me: “GO! You need to GO! Get on the road!”

Which is why, when we decided to detour a second time to the Grand Canyon during Golden Hour, I hesitated to call and give her the head’s up that, no, I wasn’t lost.

She…didn’t fuss? Would someone please feel my mother’s head for me and make sure she’s okay?

In all honesty, I had really wrestled with stopping by the Grand Canyon tonight. We’re already booked on a tour tomorrow, but the light this evening was just so good. I couldn’t resist.

 

Before we’d diverted toward the East Entrance, I’d asked Earl, “We’re an hour away from the hotel if we go straight there. Do you want to do that? Or do you want to go by the Grand Canyon?”

“Grand Canyon.”

“That means we have 3 more hours of driving.”

“We can do 3 more hours. Let’s go.”

I am so incredibly glad that we did.