What’s Best? ~ Day #9: A timely gas station
Travel day from Monument Valley to the much anticipated reason for this loop…Page, AZ. Traveling in the RV is a moving meditation for me. I feel deep ease as we navigate from place to place. I recognize how big the world is and learn from afar about the people of the areas we pass through. The nature of the development, the types of homes, the expansiveness of the land, grazing animals or vast farmlands, the reduction in speed as I pass through a small town. These and other details lay hints of what I might expect if I were to stop. I make the mistake today of assuming that gas will be easily attainable. As the tank inches toward empty, I remind myself of my layers of back-up plans: If a gas station doesn’t have a big enough turning radius I can unhook the jeep. If I run out of gas, I can disconnect the jeep, drive to the nearest gas station and return with gas (assumes they will have a gas can – In my precious arsenal of gear, gas can did not make the cut); if the jeep runs out of gas, I can ride my bike. All of this as well as chastising myself for not just getting gas in Monument Valley and regularly checking my cell phone for service and a familiar dialog with myself saying “don’t worry it’s all going to be ok”. I suspect, this is the part that subconsciously gets me into this jam. I like the unknown…I like pushing edges, I like feeling a sense of dominion over daily details…it works out this time. I celebrate as I maneuver into a station – plenty of turning radius but “hmm, is there vertical clearance for the RV?” A group of Navajo (assumed ethnicity as I was traveling through Navajo lands) sitting in their pick-up appearing to be eating their gas station lunch, assured me “it’s ok, you are clear, don’t worry…”nodding heads at me and waving arms toward the canopy and top of the RV. Getting gas is one of my least liked RV tasks. Having a full tank and knowing I can go for hundreds of miles is a favorite feeling…I admit to not understanding this self-inflicted dichotomy.
Arriving in Page, I experience a recognizable model of a small town gone touristy. My intention for coming to Page was to experience Antelope Canyon. It is listed on several “top 25 surreal” and “must see” lists. This is why:
Being a hobby photographer, I was enthusiastic about how much fun it would be to attempt to capture THAT shot. What I didn’t realize, is that the shot has nothing to do with skill, equipment or artistic ability. God created the shot and the Navajo guides make darn sure you get it! And once you’ve got it, you are rushed out to enable the next photo enthusiast to get THE shot. This is not sarcasm…it’s the reality of the experience. Check out Day #11 for further musings on this subject.
What’s Best? ~ Day #9: Things aren’t always what we expect them to be!
Back to arriving in Page. Until 1957, the town of Page was 24 square miles and a mesa on 16 million acres (27,000 square miles) of Navajo nation land. The construction of the Glen Canyon Damn necessitated a land exchange in order to provide housing for damn construction workers. The city of Page is the result. Evidence of the migrant nature of construction workers is evident in Page with large numbers of trailer homes dispersed in pockets around the town and abutting the hillsides. That I call it a small town gone touristy is a result of my feeling the tentacles of the beast reaching out and tackily attaching to me. Everywhere I looked I saw images such as the one above, billboards advertising slot canyon tours with real Navajo guides; power boat tours of Lake Powell, bus tours deep into the red walls of the grand canyon, kayak rentals, Super 8, Quality Inn, Denny’s restaurant, houseboat repair shops, convenience stores on every corner and converted trucks with covered buggies welded into the back carting loads of camera-bearing tourists to the same slot canyons I had intended to revere. I ponder how it never occurred to me that anyone else might be going to Page for the same reasons.
What’s Best? ~ Day #9: Landing a spot on the following day’s “photographers tour” of the upper slot canyon, a swim in Lake Powell for Dolce, some sunset photography at the Lake Powell overlook, a visit to the Glen Canyon Dam (bridge) and Horseshoe Bend on the Colorado River.
What’s Best? ~ Day #9: Things aren’t always what we expect them to be!
Back to arriving in Page. Until 1957, the town of Page was 24 square miles and a mesa on 16 million acres (27,000 square miles) of Navajo nation land. The construction of the Glen Canyon Damn necessitated a land exchange in order to provide housing for damn construction workers. The city of Page is the result. Evidence of the migrant nature of construction workers is evident in Page with large numbers of trailer homes dispersed in pockets around the town and abutting the hillsides. That I call it a small town gone touristy is a result of my feeling the tentacles of the beast reaching out and tackily attaching to me. Everywhere I looked I saw images such as the one above, billboards advertising slot canyon tours with real Navajo guides; power boat tours of Lake Powell, bus tours deep into the red walls of the grand canyon, kayak rentals, Super 8, Quality Inn, Denny’s restaurant, houseboat repair shops, convenience stores on every corner and converted trucks with covered buggies welded into the back carting loads of camera-bearing tourists to the same slot canyons I had intended to revere. I ponder how it never occurred to me that anyone else might be going to Page for the same reasons.
What’s Best? ~ Day #9: Landing a spot on the following day’s “photographers tour” of the upper slot canyon, a swim in Lake Powell for Dolce, some sunset photography at the Lake Powell overlook, a visit to the Glen Canyon Dam (bridge) and Horseshoe Bend on the Colorado River.
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