We had tried to get a room at Goulding's Lodge, the only hotel in Monument Valley, but alas, it was filled. So we stayed in the nearest town, Kayenta, Arizona, about 24 miles to the south.
I can't really say Kayenta was scenic — but it does welcome you with wide-open arms. You can pretty much see the whole town from anywhere in town — no secrets here. It's flat and gives the impression that there is not a green growing thing for miles. That's something disconcerting about much of the Southwest — the lack of vegetation over a few feet high.
We were up early the next morning to head up to Monument Valley — I was anxious to be there with the sun still low in the sky. Again, we felt like we were alone in the world as we drove across the vast orange-brown landscape. The park itself is run by the Navajo Tribe and is right on the Arizona-Utah border. Unlike the National Parks' visitor centers, this one was very modest, with old merchandise, faded postcards. It was sort of refreshing. Here the Valley itself is the focus. You are expected to respect the privacy of the Navajo people who live here — not photograph them unless you have their permission (and provide a gratuity).
The
area was not what I expected. From pictures I'd seen my impression was
that the monuments were spread out over miles and miles of barren land.
And they were, but the immediate entryway into the Valley has many
closely packed groups of mesas, buttes and outcroppings. They were almost
on top of us, rather than long distances away. I guess it's all in the
perspective.
You
can either drive though the Valley on a 17-mile unpaved (very bumpy) road,
or take a tour with a Navajo guide, which is longer and goes further and
deeper into the Valley. I would have loved to do that — however.
It was a cold morning, very windy and the tour vehicles were open-air
— half pickup truck, half sport utility vehicle. We weren't dressed
for that, so took off on our own.
Going
slowly down a steep, dusty road, we descended into the Valley. We bumped
along next to the Mittens, probably the most recognizable of the monuments.
Then Elephant
Butte, Three Sisters, Camel Butte. All aptly named. The sky was such a
supersaturated shade of blue, not a cloud in sight. The monuments are
mostly composed of red-orange DeChelly sandstone; these erode into the
sand and dust that covered the area. It is orange, orange, orange, and
so peaceful — we were one of only a few cars in the whole Valley.
You have a very walled-in feeling driving by the mesas — the massive, flatter monument "ranges" like Raingod, Spearhead and Thunderbird Mesas. There were a few Navajo homes and ranches at the bases.
Then
we climbed to higher, more open ground. This was Artist's Point, a beautiful
vantage area. Here the closer monuments create a frame around more distant
buttes and spires. Now, this was what I'd thought Monument Valley was
about. It was a spectacular, serene landscape. We spent several minutes
enjoying this place.
As
we left the Park area and got back on Route 163 going north, we stopped
at a high spot and looked back. All of Monument Valley was before us.
I stood in the middle of an empty road and the line from Titanic
came to mind: I'm king of the world ...
Just a few
more miles up the road in Southern Utah, we made another turn off the
highway. The sign said 
Goosenecks
State Reserve and a long driveway seemed to lead to nowhere. At the
end was an overlook; 1000 feet below was the San Juan River, coiling around
and through a beautiful chasm. What a unique, gorgeous geological phenomenon!
Actually the correct term was "entrenched meanders," and this
was one of the best examples in the world. In this deserted spot, another
unexpected pleasure.
We
continued east through Utah, then into the southwest corner of Colorado.
Here was a novelty: Four Corners. The only place where four states touch
in one spot. Well, we had to pay the Navajos a few dollars to see this.
So Peter, playing his version of "Geography Twister" put each
hand and foot in a different state. I stood on the platform (built just
for this purpose) and shot the obligatory photo. (Tourists overheard
on the way out: "Well, we did that.")
Next stop — the Land of Enchantment.