Thursday July 18

Today's the Day
30 years in the making

I woke up this morning and thought, "today's the day." It only took 30 years of wishing, hoping, dreaming, crying, planning.... I'm finally going to see Monument Valley, in person, with my own eyes and camera... me, Terrie, finally.

It must have been sometime in 1971 or 2 when I first fell head-over-heels in love... or maybe it's just when I began researching... and dreaming... I remember seeing a picture on a designer check and thinking... what is that place called? I remember seeing John Wayne selling a painkiller called Daytril from atop a rock formation, announcing the name of the place. But no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't catch the name. Finally, I looked up Utah in the World Book Encyclopedia. It was just a guess, one that came to me from deep within my brain; how it had gotten there in the first place I didn't know. But, I was right, or at least close. It was called Monument Valley and it straddled the American-made boundary between Utah and Arizona. It was home to the Navajo Indians. At the age of 17, I did not know we even had real Indians anymore. Either I hadn't paid much attention in class as a kid, or this little fact somehow escaped the history books we were given, but I honestly thought the Indians were as extinct as the buffalo (which, by the way, are not extinct at all, having 3 large buffalo farms right in Pennsylvania).

Little could I have known then (I was pushed by a Jewish mother into being a secretary or... well, anything other than what I really wanted to be) that, just a mere 30 years later, I'd be an Anthropology major with a minor in American History, focusing on Native cultures. Little did I know back then, either, that I'd ever be able to realize my dream of actually going to, seeing, breathing the air of, my beloved Monument Valley, home of my beloved Navajos. No way could I have known what life had in store for me, how my casual interest would turn into a life quest, a vision quest, a dream come true. I couldn't have known back then how important this day would be for me, that I could die happy, knowing that I'd finally been to Monument Valley. Even the name seems to stick in my heart, in my throat... I am so happy today!

My daughter knew that my whole trip centered around this day and yet she couldn't help but joke with me about how I was fussing with my hair after my shower, "trying to look good for the rocks?" she'd quipped. "No, for the camera, silly. Today's the most important day of my life!" My heart pounded with excitement and a little bit of fear as we left the motel room. Today was THE DAY. Would it be as good as I'd hoped? Would I be disappointed after seeing the red rocks of Sedona? Would I remember today with the clarity I remembered the other days of the trip? "Corey, pinch me." She still won't oblige.

Once on the road toward Kayenta, my heart pounding with excitement, I could see in the distance El Capitan. I knew I was close. There is a certain mysticism, a certain magic, a certain "Je ne sais quoi" about Monument Valley, at least for me. I know I keep saying the same things in different ways, but I cannot possibly express how I'm feeling; how I've always felt about Monument Valley. There is just something about this place that makes me take a very deep breath and a long, deep sigh. Brings tears to my eyes.

Turning left before the traffic light at Route 163 north, we enter the McDonald's drive-through but I'm too nervous and excited to eat. I let Corey have my Egg-McMuffin and my McNapkin too. Kayenta has a hogan-shaped Tourist Center and the sign on the window proclaims "closed." However, the gates are open, and a sign on the gate states "open." How confusing. Deciding that the "open" sign is more inviting than the "closed" sign, I park and walk thru the open gate. There, in the center of the hogan-shaped walled-in courtyard are Navajo merchants. Since it is still fairly early, there are only 3 booths set up and I buy from each one.

One thing I've learned is NEVER, EVER, NEVER photograph a member of another cultural group without asking first! NEVER! It kills me back home to see tourists photographing the Amish behind their backs. The movie Witness created a monster here, and I wish people would learn a little bit about any cultural group they plan on invading with their cameras before they travel. The woman I bought my beaded earrings from was uncomfortable having her picture taken. She had a loom on her worktable and was in the process of working out in her head a design for matching barrettes. The man whose picture I was permitted to take also works with beads. I bought a cedar-seed bracelet from him; it matches a necklace my mother bought me when she was here almost 15 years ago, just before she died. The 3rd vendor was selling things he did not create. He had the most gorgeous "storyteller" bracelet with gold overlay, but it was $60 and I just couldn't justify buying it after the expense of my car breakdown. I wish now I had bought it, it was really special. Maybe I can find one similar on eBay?

We left the little marketplace and headed out onto Route 163 North toward the Utah border and Monument Valley. Passing right by El Capitan brought a chill to the back of my neck; I was this close! Just a little way up the road, I could barely make out the profiles of some of the most spectacular rock formations ever. And I could also make out that orange flagman sign just up ahead. Can you imagine? This close you can feel their presence in the distance, see their vague outlines in the sky and, bam! Road construction. Taking this as an opportunity to get out of the car and get some non-windshield pictures, I got a few before we were able to start driving again.

At one point, there is a sign welcoming us to Utah. Then we turn a corner into the Monument Valley marketplace (a row of vendor booths on both sides of the dusty road) and another sign: Utah-Arizona Stateline. Well? What state ARE we in? My guess had been Utah, but I was wrong. The Marketplace is in Utah, but the Visitors' Center is in Arizona. But I'd gone straight! Oh, well, these boundaries get worse (that's for tomorrow). We walk a little bit in the hot sun through the marketplace on the southside of the road, get back into the car and spot the sign, "Monument Valley Tribal Park." Established in 1957, this is where everything we buy has, at some point, been advertised. Cars have been lowered by helicopter, horses being ridden by "Navajo" actors, I think even the Marlboro Man visited here. I realized that Corey had just pinched me.

The Visitors' Center is set beneath a towering rock formation. Four flags fly: The American Flag along with the Navajo Nation Flag. Then there is the Arizona state flag and one other I never did remember to ask about. Maybe Utah? Just a guess I just now thought of. Inside the Visitors' Center is a small museum, cafe and of course the gift shop. I couldn't find a T-shirt suitable for the occasion but did load up on overpriced postcards. I also bought a few books and then Corey and I got back to the car. We were finally going to take the auto-tour of Monument Valley.

As we exited the parking area, a man stuck his arm out of a booth and asked for payment in order to descend into the valley. I paid him $6.00 and he gave me a "ticket" which is really just a receipt. At the end of the parking lot, there is a turn and before I had a chance to understand its implications, I was on a narrow gravel road descending rather quickly, around a large formation, down again, around again... I was absolutely terrified! Since I couldn't turn around and go back up, I had no other choice but to put the car into park and sit there, wondering what to do.

Here I was, finally, after 30 years, and couldn't get up the nerve to go forward! Finally, I made my way down, ever so slowly, to the first lookout. I pulled off the "road" into the parking area, mesmerized by the view. We took a few pictures and decided that it was too hot, too steep, too windy, too dusty... to continue down. Stupid me. Once I got over my fear of going back up by going back up, I should have turned around and gone back down, following the trail all the way as far as private vehicles are permitted. But, having done it once I wasn't about to do it again. I came, I saw, I was scared. But... I was where I wanted to be... the Mittens! That's what really mattered. Not the Sisters, not the Totem Pole... just the Mittens. And I was there!

Back in the Marketplace, I bought a few things including a smaller "storyteller" bracelet from a woman who told me about being raised by Anglos in TN and MO and then deciding for herself to move back to the reservation. She said she designed the bracelet to reflect life at Monument Valley where she lives with her grandmother.

We met some other really nice people, too. One man allowed me to photograph him as he sketched a picture (he's very talented). He then showed me a few of his works-in-the-works along with those of his friend, who also wanted to pose for a picture. I have their names and addresses on a card somewhere in my files and will send them copies as soon as I get prints made.

We then turned right back onto Route 163 North into Utah to see Mexican Hat. Let me tell you right now: had I known what that road was like, I would have stayed at Monument Valley a lot longer. Other than seeing a "herd" of mules on the side of the road, the trip to Mexican Hat was scarey. I've never seen roads so narrow, so steep, so dusty, so rocky. Crossing over the San Juan River, I looked down to see just a mere trickle. The Southwest has been in a drought for 4 years now and it shows in every river, lake, wash. The sky was growing dark with an approaching storm and the dust was kicking up. Corey reached for her inhaler for about the gazillionth time this trip. I didn't dare close the windows and put on the A/C because all the climbing had caused my car to run a little hotter than I was comfortable with. We persevered. As we rounded another curving hill, we could see the Mexican Hat formation. After Corey took a few pictures, I asked if she'd mind if I turned around and headed back. I'd wanted to see the petroglyphs outside Bluff, Utah, but the heat, dust and worry about the car just wouldn't allow it.

Heading south on Route 163 toward Monument Valley offers the most famous of all the road shots. We took a few from inside the car and then another of El Capitan, this time obscured by the storm. It never did rain, just got very dark and windy.

So, after 30 years of planning and wishing, etc.... I was finally, actually, really, there! And I was in such awe of the place that now, after being home for a week, I NEED to go back. This place has some kind of strong power that just pulls at me. I hope it always will.



Kayenta

Kayenta marketplace

El Capitan

Approaching Monument Valley




The Marketplace







We're Here!




North on Rt 163 Toward Utah




Shopping Center in Kayenta


Delicatessen spelled out in Navajo

~*~ Recommended Reading ~*~

Click for product description/ordering information

Monument Valley: The Story Behind the Scenery

Dinetah: An Early History of the Navajo People

Monument Valley Navajo Tribal Park

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