A "Grand" Day

Page to Flagstaff, AZ

A beautiful, sunny morning in Page, AZ, on the shores of Lake Powell, a massive man-made reservoir. Like many aspects of this country, where overwhelming industrial might has dominated the environment, there is a slightly surreal air to this place where an enormous fresh-water sea has been created in the midst of a desert. There are dozens of used and new boat dealerships and repair shops and billboards advertising marinas, in a place thousands of kilometers from the ocean and literally years since the last rainfall (not counting the freak pre-Christmas snowfall this year). We took a tour of the Antelope canyon before leaving Page (top photo), which is an enterprise run by entrepreneurial Navajo that showcases a marvelous natural feature on their reserve. It comprises a hike through a 1/4 mile long, 100' deep slot canyon which the infrequent downpours have carved out of sandstone over thousands of years. The rock formations are beautiful and eerie and provide amazing photo opportunities. 

 The day was spent travelling through the Navajo Reservation, which is some of the most stunning scenery to date. There are countless roadside stands purveying authentic Navajo crafts, though most sit empty and idle this time of year. The reserve is massive and full of the same type of housing found on the reserves in Canada, in much the same state of repair. It is odd to see the natives here refer to themselves as "Indians". I am not sure whether it just doesn't have the same pejorative connotation as it does back home or if they have reclaimed the title for themselves. I can't help but believe that in the land of "Freedom Fries", which has elevated political correctness to a ridiculous height, that it is the latter case.

We made our way to the Grand Canyon, by which I, with a long history of Hollywood and TV farces (a la Chevy Chase, par example) and a deep-seated cynicism regarding American hyperbole informing me, was prepared to be unimpressed. Instead, it proved to be an awesome spectacle. In January, it also proves to be a rather cold one! At elevations of 5000-6000 ', the rim of the canyon is pretty frosty this time of year. Who knew? (Who travels here in January?) There is a massive pine forest along the rim, huge mule deer and road signs warning of cougars crossing (different from the ones in Las Vegas). The scale of the place gobsmacked me, but failed to have an impact on the boys. We should have made them hike to the canyon floor.

The drive from the GC to Flagstaff took us through a pass at 8000' where there was more snow than any where in the mountains near Calgary. Arizona is not all rattlesnakes and kokopellis, we are discovering. The Safeway in Flagstaff where we stopped to pick up grub for dinner (see, I'm adopting the accent) was full of gen-u-ine cowboys, dressed in their finest duds. And, it was freakin' cold. We are really happy knowing that the next stop is Phoenix and some of those snowbird-like temperatures of which we (and I am sure by now, you) have been dreaming.

-Remy