The Canyons Of Your Mind
5:43am. Morning map meeting and dog-wee coffee done. 300 odd miles to Moab UT through Monument Valley. We must get utterly drunk later tonight as we need to sleep beyond 5:43am. Also, it’s a two night stay so I can drink their weak lager stuff until I soil myself on the street…
Monument Valley is, err, monumental? Endless images burned-on by hundreds of Westerns are now right in front of you larger than the silver screen could make them. There are groups of people gathered at the viewpoints of the most iconic sights taking pictures for others and generally looking excited at actually seeing this place. The traditional Monument Valley Forrest Gump tourist photo is kindly taken by a charming young Spanish girl with fantastic breasts, we reciprocate by taking 93 pictures of her and her chum. They are travelling to San Francisco to be nannies. We think ‘good on them, what a gig!’ and wonder why some of the kids we know are not as adventurous.
‘Coffee?’
‘We don’t do that.’
‘Water?’
‘We don’t do that.’
Onwards then! The Hopi radio station plays REO Speedwagon! Result….if a little odd.
And onwards is to a magical place called The Valley of the Gods Road. Think they named it a little grandly? Overcooked it? Bit of a pompous title? Not at all; ‘Life Affirming Road That Will Change The Way You See Everything For Ever And A Day Amen’ would not have been too much of a build-up to this 27 mile stretch of dirt road through Utah.
I’d been image-searching the place for a year thinking the results were photoshopped or taken by Ansel Adams. No. The road is that unique, we take three hours to cover 27 miles, driving through utter stillness and complete serenity, we need to stop constantly as we’ve never seen anything remotely as undisturbed or imposing. A geological survey team are the only other humans we spot – they are fiddling with their rocks in the distance. A traditional nachos and water lunch is taken from the back of the car. A car which is now almost completely blanketed in a fine red dust – inside and out – bringing up my only earthly concern of the morning; the valeting bill. Ashly silently wanders off at each stop and stands hands on hips just staring at it all, then walks back to the car. I do the same. It’s hot, it’s the high desert and nobody is going to laugh at my hat again.
- The $7.50 hat is now starting to fall apart.
- Never wear sandals in the desert, see my wife’s once perfect feet.
- Terry towelling is a winner in these conditions. Orlebar Brown preferably.
Le Gastronomique de la Road trip. An important recap.
It’s basically nachos, jalapeño dip, salsa dip, guacamole and the thinly cut turkey stuff that you can stuff 10 slices into your mouth at once whilst driving. Oh, and grapes that are starting to ferment alongside those cheese slices that are not really cheese. There are always 24 bottles of water sitting next to a bag of stuff you bought when starving after not sleeping for 50 hours that now smells odd. You’ll throw it out in 700 miles or so.
The car is, of course, an unpleasant mess after two days. The driver is the designated car-tidier. That’s a rule…
After the glories of the Valley of the Gods Road there’s a straight 100 miles to Moab UT through flower-strewn desert and a much anticipated two night stop in the very cool-looking Gonzo Inn. Added to this is the exciting possibilities of eating actual food and getting beautifully drunk. I put my foot down in the Dustmobile and dream of getting off my knockers on Nigerian sherry…