Verse 10: The Grand Canyon

We woke up an hour before sunrise and headed out to the South Rim to watch the sun coming up over the canyon. When we got out of the door of our lodge, we were greeted by a whole doe eyed deer family, munching away at the shrubs right by the door. Good morning nature!!! 

Ta-Daaah! It was friggin cold and just as the sun started to come up in a very romantic way, a huge coach full of tourists arrived and parked directly next to us with the engine running o_0.

At least one of them took a proper tourist photo of us : )

Our growling bellies commanded a return to the lodge for a Grand Breakfast.

After our morning munch we headed out again to walk down into the canyon. Well.. not all the way down, that takes two days: One down, one up, but more like 3 hours down and 4 hours up again. Tip: Buy some Yak Tracks (those are the metal things you put under your foot so you don't fall flat on your face if it's icy) at the supermarket in Grand Canyon Village. Don't open them. If you need them on your walk, use them. If not, return them and get your money back. 

We tossed a coin to decide which trail to do: The South Kaibab or the Bright Angel. The coin said South Kaibab, so we decided to take the Bright Angel trail... probably because 'Angel' sounded better than 'Kebab'.  Another tip: Listen to the locals... we should have done and then we would have gone down the kebab route as that has far more sun on a Winter's day and we soon realised that the Angel trail was in shadow the whole way down, and it was VERY cold perched on the rocks eating lunch. So the tip is Bright Angel in summer and South Kaibab in winter.

Strange things that we saw in the Grand Canyon: 

An Italian guy in his 30s running down the trail in normal trainers, no Yak Tracks, wearing only a fleece and those outdoor trousers you can zip off at the knee, overtaking us and then some time later, still running, overtaking us again on our way up. When we asked him if he was an Olympic athlete, he just said "I have a bus to catch" and dashed passed us on his hurried ascent.

Two girls and a boy in clothes you'd wear on a night out in Newcastle, one of the girls  glammed up to the nines, teetering along the ice in very high wedges, the guy shouting nonstop in a Baltic sounding language into a mobile, the girls giggling. 

Respect!

Grand Canyon Fact: The most dangerous animal in the Grand Canyon is not a bear or a wild cat or a freaked out pony. It's the squirrel. Every year hundreds of tourists get their fingers ripped off while trying to feed them. Beware.

Back on the road we set the SatNav to Flagstaff and soaked in the endless highway, lit up in the evening sun.

In Flagstaff we booked ourself in the Grand Canyon Hostel and headed out to get FOOD!!! The guy at the hostel told us about a nearby Beaver Street Micro Brewery that was doing cheap but great food and even greater beers. 

..yum yum yum.. good night!

Verse 11: Flagstaff, Sedona, Globe. The West.

After sampling a variety of Microbrewery Delights (solids & fluids) we stumbled home, trying not to slip on ice and snow or get run over by the formidable freight trains that run through Flagstaff, honking their brain reverberatingly loud horns every 20 seconds, or so it seemed.They probably honk those horns all the time to give drunkards like us a tiny chance to get off the tracks - there's not much between space between life and death as those carriages thunder through, dissecting the town. Thank you. Back at the hostel we stuffed our ears with cotton wool and tissues and drifted towards sleepysnoozyland.

No, we didn't eat all of the apples.

Wake up, shower, breakfast. The people working at the hostel are (as always) very friendly and suggest we should check out an ancient American Indian settlement in a canyon nearby, when Mr. B suddenly felt all the energy leaving his body. What was happening? A curse? A hole in Mr. B's energy field? Both??! No time to waste.. we had to crack on. Petrol for the car, Aspirin for Mr. B.

After a short drive we arrived at the Walnut Canyon National Monument. Thanks to our great idea of travelling in January, there was no long winded tourist cue, only a couple of cool looking Rangers. After paying the usual, slightly overpriced fee [just joking, it goes to conservation after all so is worth every penny] Mrs. B jumped for joy at the history lesson about to unfold before her and danced down the 100s of steps that had been carved into the rock by ancient Native American peoples, Mr. B meanwhile tried his best not to pass out straight away. This will be a day of very little steps for our hero. A lot of very little steps.

In this picture you can actually see another ball of energy disappearing out of Mr. B's body.

And here you can see Mrs. B taking the piss out of Mr. Bs mis-fortune. She is clearly showing off, holding up a gigantic piece of rock with her sheer strength.

The Walnut Canyon has a similar history as the Grand Canyon, carved out of the rock by a steady stream of water during the last 60 million years. Early settlers are originally thought to be from the north, refugees from the fiery eruption of the Sunset Crater Volcano. In the 11th and 12th century, 100s of people harvested crops on the rim of the canyon and lived in these carved 'rock houses' further down in the canyon.

After a 2 hr walk that should have taken 45 mins we returned to the car and set sail towards the East. Sedona. Oak Canyon.. red cliffs .. pine trees .. beautiful holiday chalets along the creek .. jagged cliffs, towers and fingers of rock.

Sedona.. sounds great on the map.  It turns out to be a heavily commercialised new age spiritual sort of town. Lots of dream catchers in windows here. And crystals. A harmless tourist trap high street. Nice clean toilets. Is this Arizona's Vegas? Kind of. Also not that big. Stunning surroundings. A lot of hiking/trekking/mountainbiking industry. There is for sure a beautiful soul in this slightly overdressed hippy haunt.

Big houses .. teracotta reds .. dark greens and browns .. blended into the landscape.

A crazy house at Oak Creek Village outskirts southbound on Interstate 179, made up of coloured domes in primary colours. An old lady standing outside the house, wearing the same blue, red and yellow colours like the house. It's warm here .. no snow anymore. We're heading to Payson .. climbing from Arizona style desert hills into mountain forest, snow again, tall graceful trees. Nothing but climbing slowly and one more hour of trees. Then on the summit of the climb... incredible views over mountain scenery - in the distance more mountains, covered in dark green pines and dusted with snow at the highest peaks. Cold winter sunlight casting watery fingers over the landscape. Towards the East is the Apache reservation. Down the mountain.. icy curvy lanes .. more curvy lanes .. the scenery opens up again .. Wild West.. Payson, Cottonwood Creek .. a massive bike scrapyard next to the road .. horse ranches ..

The landscape is now properly Wild West and the hours flow by as we gorge ourselves on the passing rocks, lakes, trees and ocasional outlaw bikers on Harleys without helmets or exhaust pipes. The first big Saguero cacti .. suddenly all along the road .. America .. cruise control.

The beginning of a massive swamp on our left ..more bikers. The basin that we are driving through opens into a large lake, huge rocky hills on its side. The evening sun just touches the tops of their peaks. The Theodore Roosevelt Lake. It's huge. And then dusk..

"I can't be bothered to drive anymore in the dark.. I'm really knackered.. let's find one of these cheap motels and then get some burger stuff or something cheap.. but not shit .. and then I have to fall into a deep and dreamless sleep to regain my energy for all the adventures that are yet to come ..ok?"

"Ok!"

So we checked into Motel 6 at Globe and then hit the local burger joint - it was as cheap as it looks:

After stuffing his face with a lot of deep fried food, the nearly lifeless Mr. B fell into a deep dreamless sleep while Mrs. B stayed up late and watched a lot of episodes of True Blood. See you tomorrow!