Side Dish: Monument Valley 5/9/09

Against all odds and defying all logic, there is good news in Navajo Nation. Sure, we'd get the flip side later that night while staying in one of the world's most depressing towns not on the African continent - Kayenta, Arizona - but for the day in question, there was Monument Valley. Familiar even to those who haven't set foot within a thousand miles of its beauty, Monument Valley and its iconic landscape has been featured in countless movies (most prominently in the canon of John Ford), and often stands in as the visual representation of the Old West. When one thinks of stagecoaches, Indian raids, and lonely rides on horseback, one thinks of little else but this eye-popping region straddling the southern Utah and northern Arizona borders. And to think the drive in is just as lovely.

Monument Valley Tribal Park, having just celebrated its 50th Anniversary in 2008, is unfortunately not under the control of the National Park Service (and yes, for more reasons than just the lack of a passport stamp), but for what it's worth, the Navajo Nation is doing a solid job moving people along and keeping the area pristine. The 2009 addition of The View Hotel and Resort (the only one inside the park itself) might seem like a sad bow to commercialism, but it also represents an opportunity for this historically disadvantaged tribe to make a fine living. It's not as crass as, say, a She Wore a Yellow Ribbon Casino or something, and the rooms - all of which face the stunning scenery (allowing for unparalleled sunrises and sunsets) - are undeniably tempting. Who wouldn't want to nurse a cup of coffee with this staring you in the face?

So for a modest $5 charge per person, we took the drive along the wildly dusty dirt trail. First, however, we had to stare from the visitor center's back balcony. Chatty Germans aside (they were everywhere), we enjoyed the vibrant colors, gentle breeze, and heart-stopping vistas. Having wanted to venture here for years, it was a great release to finally put this one to bed. And why not top it off with the purchase of a gen-u-ine rattlesnake coffee mug? It's as close to authenticity one could expect without having access to a John Wayne cardboard cutout. All of our goodies in hand, we made our way to the road, which was predictably busy, though we took comfort in the fact that we had rejected the open-faced tram. To a man, the load of tourists choked and hacked as the red soil caked their faces, clogged their lungs, and damn near killed a good dozen of them. With our windows safely shut tight - and the A/C on full blast - we made our way along the bumpy trail.

It's all there - The Mittens and Merrick Butte, Elephant Butte and the Three Sisters, Camel Butte and John Ford's Point - and the twentieth glimpse is as thrilling as the first. We both adore the Southwest, and its barren, throat-tightening isolation is only the surface of its charm. Before the "official" closing of the West by Frederick Jackson Turner, what lay before us this fine day is what pushed people to the brink; what inspired, motivated, prodded, and in some cases, drove to madness. It was possibility and despair all in turn, but at no point was it anything less than the fulfillment of the American ideal. It's a pleasure to see it just as they did, even if we're a little more advanced in our methods of transportation.

Before leaving the valley's overpowering beauty, we encountered on our last stop an all-too-typical example of the worst of Navajo Nation: a wandering dog. While as sweet-natured as the rest, she was also filthy and sporting signs of a recent litter (we named her Dusty), a guarantee that even more unwanted animals would roam the area. It is here that we move to the dark corner of the Navajo land, in that animals of all kinds seem to exist in a anarchic free-for-all, roaming the sands and streets at will. Take Kayenta, previously mentioned as a disaster of epic proportions. In addition to the war zone that passes for a business district (we found a pizza joint, but alas, they used nuclear fallout as sauce, and the roof of my mouth is still recovering), we had to dodge assorted horses, sheep, and the splattered corpses of the dearly departed as they cluttered up the road. It was a truly surreal sight for a century not tied to wagon trails and the call of the cavalry bugle, and it damn near spoiled an otherwise opulent evening at the Best Western. Apparently they bulldozed the Four Seasons just prior to our arrival.

Though no one in the Navajo Parks and Recreation Department will win any ASPCA awards in this or any other year, don't let that depressing fact deter you from a visit. This is a destination spot, and one worthy of any seasoned traveler. The brochure notes the "red rock enchantment," and that's as good a way as any to describe what one's eyes will take in during a visit. It's the American West of our imaginations, and the focal point of our wandering hearts.