July 6, 2006: Phoenix

After three somewhat strenuous days in national parks, we decided a relatively relaxed day was in order. We're staying at what I'm reasonably sure will be the finest hotel we'll visit on this trip. "Five stars!" Tommy proclaims, "Or at least four and a half." "I love luxury hotels!" Debbie sighs.

We have an "in," though: my very generous cousin Todd is the general manager. But even if he weren't, we would enthusiastically recommend the Doubletree Guest Suites Phoenix. From the accomodations to the service to the food to the pool, everything is first-rate. Thanks, Todd!

As a result of its proximity to Sky Harbor International Airport, the hotel caters largely to a business clientele and hosts a fair number of conventions (a group of Jehovah's Witnesses happens to be here today). From the sixth floor, where our suite is, we can watch airplanes taxi, take off, and land at the airport. The weather is fairly mild for Phoenix in the summer, if a bit humid. It's a balmy 100 degrees.

After Todd greeted us this morning and introduced us to his very friendly office staff, we did some laundry, picked up a few maps from AAA, and set out for the Arizona Science Center in downtown Phoenix. There was so much to see and do there that we regretted not having more time. The center contains a planetarium and an exceedingly well-executed array of presentations on such subjects as physiology, psychology, geology, and grossology.

Not familiar with the latter? Animal Grossology is a touring exhibit about all those yucky things (slugs, snails, puppydog tails) that fascinate little boys. Despite the subject, we still had an appetite for lunch at an adjacent restaurant in Historic Heritage Square, Circa 1900. It occupies one of about a dozen Victoria-era houses there, and it was constructed - as the restaurant's name indicates - in 1900.

In the evening, we went swimming in the hotel's pool, and then Todd treated us to an excellent dinner in the hotel's restaurant. Finally, we retired to our rooms to pop some corn and watch Ice Age 2: The Meltdown, again courtesy of Todd. This is the life! Unfortunately Todd couldn't relax, as he was busy all day and most of the evening supervising promotional photo shoots in the hotel's meeting rooms and courtyard.

By the way, check out "Roadtrip," an amusing short film by kindred spirits.

July 5, 2006: The Grand Canyon & Phoenix

As we drove into Arizona, we had to set our clocks an hour back, since the state stubbornly refuses to adopt daylight saving time. It is one of only two states in the union to do so, the other being Hawaii. Are they asserting states' rights or, as Debbie guessed, "Do they figure they have enough daylight already?" Her guess turns out to be closer. Hawaii lies in tropical latitudes, where there isn't a great deal of difference in daylight between summer and winter. Arizona doesn't want more daylight because this would require more air conditioning, thus raising energy consumption.

On our way to the north rim of the Grand Canyon, we passed through about 64,000 acres of scorched timber, where a forest fire had closed the road until only a couple of days earlier. Some of the wood was still smoldering.

Charred signs punctuated the drive. At the Grand Canyon Lodge, Debbie read that the fire had started on June 8 and hadn't been completely extinguished until July 4.

Two firefighters posed while Debbie took their photo. "You're not from the newspaper, are you?" one of them asked. Debbie laughed and told them no.

What can be said about the Grand Canyon that hasn't already been said? Carved by the Colorado River over six million years, it's 277 miles long and well over a mile deep at its deepest point. Its walls reveal more than a billion years of geological history. Its immensity is so intimidating that the boys actually seemed put off by it, and for the second time on this trip we heard those discouraging words: "I'm bored."

We walked to Bright Angel Point, passing a United Nations of visitors along the way, hearing Russian, Chinese, Japanese, German, French, Spanish, and other languages. I spoke to a family from Germany who were wondering where the river was. The canyon is so deep that the Colorado is invisible from the northern rim. "Man muß zur südlichen Seite gehen, um die Fluß zu sehen," I told them. ("One has to go to the southern side in order to see the river.") The rim is over 8,000 feet high, so the weather was pleasantly cool.

Leaving the Grand Canyon, we drove for an hour or so under lowering skies and the occasional shower, then stopped at Cliff Dwellers, where wind-sculpted rocks fascinated the boys. They climbed on one that looked remarkably like a skull.

They peered into another that had been transformed into a crude shelter.

This one reminded Debbie of the aliens in Close Encounters of the Third Kind.

The drive from the north rim to Phoenix is a long one. It passes through Navajo territory of surpassingly inspirational beauty and thoroughly depressing poverty. Ramshackle settlements are widely scattered, consisting primarily of tiny houses and mobile homes, many of them without utilities. An unreasonably large number of vehicles, some on blocks, surround the buildings, and stray dogs roam the roads. The overwhelming effect is that of a shabby multi-million-acre trailer park.

Stalls, most of them empty, stand along the highway together with signs advertising Native crafts. It must be difficult to retain young people; boredom, lack of opportunity, alcoholism, and other health problems surely encourage many of them to leave.

We bought just enough gas to make it from a Navajo town called The Gap, where it cost $2.99 a gallon, to Flagstaff, where it was only $2.79, the cheapest we've seen so far. At around 9 p.m., we arrived in Phoenix, which I was surprised to learn is the sixth largest city in the US. It has almost 1.5 milion residents.

July 4, 2006: Zion & Bryce

We knew we were in a red state this morning: the TV in our hotel's breakfast room was tuned to Fox News, and the road was lined with celebratory flags in nearly every small town we drove through. In the car, apropos of Independence Day, I spoke with our boys about the differences between patriotism and nationalism. "I'm a patriot," I told them, "because I love my country. America is a wonderful place and is precious to me. But I'm emphatically not a nationalist because I don't believe my nation is inherently superior to other nations."

Tommy concurred: "Each country is better than all other countries in some way. It's the same with just about everything. Like people, for example. Everyone has a unique talent. To me, America is the best country because I grew up in it. But I don't think it's better than all the others in every way."

Temperatures today, like yesterday, were relatively cool, and it was a pleasure to be able to wend our way through the mountains with the windows down. We took the Zion-Mt. Carmel Highway through southeastern Zion on our way to Bryce Canyon. The highway includes a series of switchbacks and a narrow, mile-long tunnel built in the 1920s. To fit modern recreational vehicles through it, we had to wait for oncoming traffic, then drive into the tunnel single-file.

On the other side of the tunnel, the terrain undergoes a transition. The soil is drier, the vegetation is scrubbier, and the character of the rocks changes: instead of a copper red, they tend to be a light beige with red striations. Scouring winds produce gentle, grooved slopes, and freezing weather causes cycles of contraction and expansion, leading to myriad cracks in the stone. The hills are dotted with small shrubs that cling to any water-retaining crevice. They remind me of the Southwestern Indians who, throughout the centuries, have eked out a subsistence here upon the slimmest of resources.

The boys were eager to get out of the car and climb one of the wide sandstone bowls we passed, so we did just that. Their eagerness was a bit scary, especially for their mom, as a misstep on the crumbling rock could have sent them tumbling down a very long way. We kept a tight hold of their hands on our descent, since the flat light didn't enable us to see footholds as well as we could on our ascent. Tommy scaled the highest and proudly dubbed himself a "master climber."

Danny wrote this about our hike: "Today I climbed very high on a giant mountain in Zion National Park. When I was almost to the bottom again, I saw a lizard doing push-ups!" He refers to a quick, repetitive bobbing behavior common to lizards in the wild. Debbie surmised that a high position gave the animal a better view, while a lower one offered better concealment. I speculated that since the lizard's eyes were on opposite sides of its head, the odd calisthenics enabled it to triangulate the position of objects, effectively creating binocular vision. Its brain could combine images to determine our height, distance, and speed of approach, allowing it to skitter away before we posed a danger.

We saw a variety of interesting rock formations. What does this one resemble to you?

This one is called "Checkerboard Rock" for obvious reasons.

There are many other photos I could put here, but I have to move on to Bryce Canyon, which features some of the most curious and dramatic rock formations in the world. On our way there, we passed a herd of buffalo. "Herd of buffalo!" I exclaimed. True to form, Tommy immediately responded, "Of course I've heard of buffalo."

Even before we reached Bryce, we were mightily impressed by the scenery and the hoodoos of Red Canyon, in Dixie National Forest, just west of the park.

It was easy to understand why early explorers and settlers called the rocks "hoodoos," for without a knowledge of the process of erosion or geologic time scales, they would indeed seem to have been created by magic or "hoodoo," a corruption of "voodoo."

The grandeur of the panoramic views that Bryce Canyon offers really does beggar description, so I'll let the pictures do the talking.

We hiked an enchanting three-mile loop from Sunrise Point to Sunset Point, seeing chipmunks and hummingbirds along the way. The names of the points amused Debbie. "We've hiked from Sunrise to Sunset!" she said with a grin.

These are among the odder hoodoos we saw.
Queen's Garden was the high point of the hike.

We drove to Bryce Point, where the view was truly stunning. A single photo simply cannot do justice to its majestic sweep. Imagine this view multiplied by ten.

We ended our day with dinner at Ruby's Inn, which is celebrating its 90th year of business just outside the park entrance. They put on a rodeo tonight, followed by a nice fireworks display. You can't get much more American than this!

We spent the night at the Quail Park Lodge in Kanab, just shy of the Utah-Arizona border.