Spirit Road

I was awakened by the silence. The full moon drawing me to the balcony at 4am like some a werewolf B - movie, magical, otherworldly, and bathed in the moonlight, Monument Valley lived up to its name. Of course I had seen this before in 2001 The Space Odyssey, The Searchers and Easy Rider, whenever a filmmaker attempted to visualise the unknowable they sought out this was epic big sky country, immortalised, the edge of the word.
Though no celluloid reproduction could come to close of the oppressive enormity of it all, a sensual vista that goes beyond the limits of sight, the pure silence as profound as deep space. You have no choice, but to pause and contemplate, to give into its power, no matter what your religion, you believe as the physical transcends into the spiritual.

When I embarked on my Route 66 road trip, kicks I expected, well the song did promise them, thrills were a plenty and crazy characters lived up to the myth, but nothing prepared me for the ethereal thrill of nature at its most unfathomable.
It was a considerable detour from the Mother Road, three hours north of Flagstaff, the road thankfully shaking of the scary semis that rumble endlessly across American highways as my Chevy Camaro powered through changing landscapes from the green snowy peaks of Mount Edna to the dry rocky outcrops deep into the heart of God’s country.

From Tuba City to Kayenta, your spirit shifts, the landscape levels, the pace slows; cars stop road side companionably, and you feel like you are leaving the material urgency of America behind for the timeless terrain of the Navajo nation. Although there is no passport control, the endless horizon stretching road to the edge of Monument Valley, is like a portal to another world, a star gate to another way of living that we have sadly forgot.

The Navajo owned and staffed The View hotel is carved respectfully into the side of the valley so that every room looks out over the sacred space, where the shifting sun continually creates kaleidoscopes of colour across the craggy plateau. Though striking as it is in day light, it only hints at the sensory assault of the sunset to come, where you realise the moon is in cahoots by waking you, to experience the dawn of time itself.

Navajo lands are dry, but here nature is the only narcotic you will ever need.