Diane wrote:Well for pity's sake, grab seaglass and come out. We'd love to see you.
Just be sure to rent a rugged car. The road is a washboard, which is the way most of us want it so that only people who are really serious about going there will make the effort.
Many of us will be heartbroken if and when the state decides to 'improve' the road--so many more sightseers will have easy access.
I know that road well. Last time I drove it was in a rented Olds Alero, believe it or not. Gave me a new respect for GM products. Several times I thought I had a flat tire. Got out, looked. No, just the effects of the road and the billowing clouds of dust rising all about us. Have to look out for those cattle guards, too, if you take a wrong turn.
Seaglass was enchanted by a group of Navajo boys driving a small herd of Indian ponies from a corral across the road towards some pasturage. Her biggest disappointment was not being able to snap a picture of that scene. Too much dust for one thing. And by the time she got camera unlimbered and climbed from the car, they were already out of sight, manes flying in the breeze.
I hope to hell they don't 'improve' that road. Too many city slicker tourists clambering over those old ruins now, as it is. I snapped a picture of a particularly interesting rock formation (well, it was interesting to me, anyway). And when the pic was developed and printed, wonder of wonders, I had photographed a ghost. There's a wisp of white quite clearly visible in the developed film which was not visible to the naked eye. Seaglass doesn't smoke and I didn't have a cigarette lit. There was no fog or mist that day, no campfire smoke. So where'd that will o' the wisp come from, huh? You ain't gonna tell me that canyon ain't haunted. And that's fine and as it should be.