The Marsden Expedition: Petrified Forest National Park

We hit the road early this morning, waking and packing by a little after seven. We’re meeting Mike’s ex-stepmom, Haven, and her husband, Rick, at a Cracker Barrel in Flagstaff. I’m curious to meet her. Mike’s always told me that he owes much of his academic success to her working so hard with him after he was diagnosed with dyslexia late in elementary school.

Breakfast was wonderful and the company turned out even better than the biscuits and gravy and bacon (which is saying something!). As I look at Haven and Mike, I can’t help but think of my sister and all the other stepparents I know. It’s a tough job to do, and Mike and Haven will both tell you it was difficult, but at breakfast I’m in awe of the good that is possible.

Back on the road, I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to come back to Grand Canyon someday. I know we barely scratched the surface of the beauty here and I want more. Mike and I talk about looking into a rafting trip for our next big anniversary.

I’m surprised by how much I love it here, actually. I’ve never thought of the desert as being anything especially scenic before. When I think of beautiful outdoor places I think of Yosemite or Huntington Beach, overwhelming vistas.

Maybe the desert’s beauty is found in it’s lack. Like the art projects where you scratch off the black to find the sparkly beneath. Or it’s the amount of blank space that sparks my wonder.

 

 

 

The Petrified Forest National Park offered a lot of that empty space. It’s silent other than the wind rushing across the desert—well, it was until we tumbled out of the RV. We make the 28mi drive across the park, pulling over every few turnoffs per the suggestions of the helpful teenage docent at the Visitor Center. We take in sweeping panoramic views of the Painted Desert; every striated shade of burnt orange, terra cotta, dusky purple, serenity, and rose quartz (perhaps Pantone’s inspiration?).

We walk to the edge of Newspaper Rock and peer into the tower viewer, at first unable to focus on anything. We continue to scan the boulders below and then we see: petroglyphs! Hundreds of them. Ancient pictorial stories that have survived for more than 2,000 years. I consider the importance of stories. What a privilege to have been trusted with words that have that kind of staying power.

At the Rainbow Forest Museum we dig in the sand pit for hidden bones and listen to a knowledgeable and kind ranger who tells us about the fossils of ancient reptiles which predate the dinosaurs. Out back we walk a path that winds around enormous chunks of petrified wood. Rainbow rock stumps scattered as far as I can see.

Back on the road I enjoy views of shocking bright rainbows and red rock mesas. We stop for dinner and Mike tries to fix our decaying land yacht, the Mars(den) Rover. (Hahahahaha! Still funny.)

We drive and drive and drive and drive.

We drive through Arizona into New Mexico.

We drive on two lane roads through the night.

After hours and hours, I’m driving listening to Tina Fey’s Bossy Pants and laughing so hard that I forget to keep an eye on the GPS. We’re on a pitch black, two lane road. It’s almost midnight. Adrenaline surges through me as I fumble with the computerized map. I smack Mike awake, he’d been trying to doze in the less bumpy passenger’s seat, and tell him what I’ve done. I do not want to be lost out here. Fortunately, he figures it out.

I continue to drive into the dark through the night, constantly glancing at the GPS in paranoia. When the day dawns we’ll be somewhere in west Texas.

If you want to hear a whole lot more about the RV issues check out Day 3 of the trip vlog that goes with this post:

You can find day two here: https://youtu.be/xJedce-XeYs