A painted day

I awoke this morning to a sunrise stretching over Flagstaff, brush strokes of orange stretched along gauzy clouds. Pinks and reds reflected off snowcapped Humphrey's Peak (the highest point in Arizona) to the north. This burst of color would set the tone for the day as I proceeded west, happily leaving behind the shades of brown that compose so much of Arizona.

I busted straight east out of Flagstaff on Interstate 40. I marveled as the landscape changed before my eyes. Once again, the elevation rose and fell; Flagstaff rests just under 7,000 feet up. Throughout the day, I ranged between 5,000 and 7,000. As I headed east, though, the scenery changed, and suddenly I was reminded that I was heading toward the plains. I was yet again graced by warm sunshine and clear blue skies. The blue sky stretched forever to my left and right. Waving grasses became more and more prevalent, and they too reached out interminably the way only prairie grass can. I recalled fondly the days I spent in Kansas in November. In Arizona, though, this eternal horizon bears a different topography. Huge mountains loom in the distance, and everywhere I looked I saw mesas and buttes of all sizes.

Just past Holbrook, I opted on the spur of the moment to pull of the highway to check out the Petrified Forest. Now, I know this sounds like somewhat of a hokey tourist attraction, but the AAA book talked it up, and besides, I got to fulfill my constant goal of driving on back roads. I followed US-180 for eighteen miles southeast from I-40. Honestly, even if there had been nothing to see at the national park, I would have been satisfied. I was the lone traveler for almost all of those eighteen miles, as a glorious ribbon of road extended before me, the sun shone down as brightly as could be, and all around me the landscape began to show signs of the beauty yet to come. I passed a few lonely trailers, basking in the tawny grass, fluffy sagebrush, and mesas and rock outcroppings of all shapes and sizes. I rolled the windows down and breathed in deeply. I felt free and happy in ways I had only felt while trekking across Missouri and Kansas a few months ago. Realizing that I had reached the high plains, I felt a tickle of excitement.

I reached the park entrance, and already I had an idea of what I was in for. Behind the visitors' center, I could see mesas, vibrant and red, and conical gray mountains termed tepees. The park is set up such that the visitor drives on a winding road through the park, stopping as they like to hike around, sit a spell, or simply gawk at the vista.

Here I will have to summon my best powers of description, though I fear they will not suffice to depict the beauty I saw today, and I know photographs will only begin to tell the tale.

The Petrified Forest resulted from a specific sequence of events a few hundred million years ago that caused logs, branches, and entire trees to be fossilized and polished in such a manner that they gleam with many colors. Resting amongst sandy desert rocks, they call to mind a prehistoric time.

Along with the one-of-a-kind petrified wood, this area is known as the Painted Desert. Here is why. Imagine an enormous canvas. The top half of this is filled with a brilliant robin's-egg blue, with perfect cottony clouds sponged atop. Beneath, the horizon stretches to all ends of the earth. And the land below! Filled with canyons and mesas alike, the desert hums with a rainbow of color. Strata of red shoot one way, pink-hued layers one step below. Gray rock outcroppings appear, blanketed by white snow on one side. The earth is a light brown, and every shade of green and brown appear in intermittent sagebrush and prairie grass. Sweeping canyons and tall peaks proudly display a rainbow of crimsons, browns, pinks. As I rounded each curve, my jaw dropped further.

There are several places in this national park where the traveler can pull off the road to walk around a bit, or stare and take photos, but for the most part you have to keep driving. By the end, sights such as this one in the photo appear commonplace. This detour added about two hours to my journey, but I absolutely recommend putting it on your life to-do list. If you don't have a life to-do list, go make one, and put this on it.

As I progressed into New Mexico, color slowly began to return to the land around me. New Mexico's state nickname is the "Land of Enchantment," and, truly, everything I saw I just found to be utterly beautiful.

Oh, yes. And I skipped the Grand Canyon. Why? Because this is my adventure, and I just didn't feel like going! Also, for the first time on this adventure I found something that I would rather not do solo. So I'm saving the Grand Canyon for later. It will still be there. I think the Painted Desert more than made up for it.

The day ended as a wispy orange sunset rose over Albuquerque. I stood in front of my dad's cousin's house and watched as it reflected off tall peaks ahead of me.

Today's mileage: 365. Total mileage: 2,144.