Tuba City, Arizona

We finally made it to Tuba City, here in the Navajo Nation in Northern Arizona. We drove for about 11 1/2 hours today all the way from Jackson, Wyoming. Here are some notes along the way:

We crossed into Idaho shortly after leaving Jackson, climbing up the mountains and winding around the Tetons. In Idaho, US-26 was a gorgeous continuation of western Wyoming with the Snake River careening around scenic green mountains and valleys traveling away from the road.

Ever since Denver, it's been hard to leave the places we've visited. Last night after going to Cowboy Bar, Matt and I, ambling down Jackson Hole's Main St., found it hard to leave the town that we'd fallen in love with in only a few hours. Part of what contributed to Jackson's--and Bozeman's--splendor was the people, strangers who exuded kindness everywhere we went. They are carefree, happy-go-lucky people who don't care where you're from. You are good enough to have a conversation with, and maybe even dance with to a little country-western. It's nice to know these people are out here--they made me want to be a better, more welcoming and kind person.

A gas attendant this morning at an Idaho Chevron in Bonneville County caught us at the door and we chatted briefly about the state of the economy--how it takes him $80 to fill up his SUV and he knows that the US is storing up barrels of gas in Idaho and Utah. His lasting words were "I blame everything on George Bush." Surprising to hear that out here...

We drove by huge, intricate mountains in Pocatello, Idaho. The mountains in this area are sinewy, large muscular structures, carved details of light and dark brown. As you move further south in Idaho, green becomes the preferred mountain color, with firs and pines multiplying into the thousands. These rolling mountains--like the rivers as America's arteries--are the muscles of this country.

Salt Lake City from the highway looks like a nice mountain-side city. We had lunch at the Red Rock Brewing Company, where the beers were watered down and non-alcoholic. The hefeweizen tasted like lemonade and the food wasn't that impressive either. It's a strange city and a sign supported by the Church of Latter Day Saints (what's that even mean?!) overlooked the highway on the way out. I think I'll pass.

US-89 in Southern Utah cuts right through the mountains. It's not an interstate, so it has its pros and cons, but it was pretty sweet to be riding next to a river weaving in between the mountains we'd only seen from a distance on the interstate. The landscape in southern Utah goes through a huge transformation in colors and geological structure. US-89 goes right past Bryce Canyon National Park, Lake Powell, and Glen Canyon, all beautiful sights to behold. When we entered into the Navajo Nation in Arizona, the highway goes up the red-dirt mountains with huge views of the valleys and red mountains cascading into the horizon.

Tomorrow, we'll be checking out a bit of Tuba City and heading to the Grand Canyon for some more exploration and discovery.