Class A, some trailers, another C, and various cars, with lines at all islands. We get in behind a minivan, figuring they'll fill fast and clear the way. What we didn't count on was it was a replay of National Lampoon's "Vacation." An old geezer (yes, I can still call someone else old geezer) gets out of the shotgun seat and stands transfixed at the choices and decisions required by a modern gas pump. Five others pile out-- three teens, grandma, and mom -- and file into the minimart for the bathrooms or food. While gramps figures out the pump, Dad gets out of the driver seat and unloads an ice chest and wanders off to find bagged ice. We're trapped. Literally! Every other island cycles through 3-4 cars before this clown family struggles back, reloads the goods and themselves, and finally crawl away, totally oblivious to us waiting. Two credit-card swipes later ($75 limit), we're full and off to Wal-Mart ---our very first ever shop in one. Hey, they don't have any on the west side of L.A.! Sat in the parking lot and made phone calls, now that we have service. Talked to Bob, Rick, John (msg) and Mike, whom we reached while he and Alia were in a limo with other friends on their way to Napa for a wine-tour birthday celebration. Not bad. Things must be good in the geology biz. Out of Cortez and off to natural Bridges. Fairly unremarkable drive, especially after all the scenery we've seen. Again, we slog uphill interminably. Don't ask about gas mileage. Natural bridges is high, hot, and nothing but scrub oak and junipers all around. We decide to flop until late afternoon, then attempted a bike ride to the first arch. However, the road began descending far too much and we give up, mindful that we have to eventually pedal/walk back up. We'll save it for a drive tour tomorrow. Back to the rig for dinner. Loni outdoes herself with salmon over salad, with hot veggies and potatoes in it. Scrumptious. When we were at the visitor center, we learned that this park is one of the certified "Dark Sky" locations of the world,
meaning virtually no light pollution to ruin stargazing, and tonight there is a special ranger astronomy session which only happens a few times a year. We have lucked out. We made our way to the viewing area about 9:30 pm. Tonight there is only the sliveriest of moons, and it will set completely at 10:30. Yeegads it is dark! The Ranger has an 8" cassegrain, and he had us view Saturn's rings, Jupiter's moons (4), double stars, and a cluster galaxy, which was very cool. The night was clear, dead calm, and about 65 degrees. Life is very good.SUNDAY. 6:50 a.m. We've been up for 20 minutes and a knock comes at our door. It's the
father from the next site asking if we have any plastic spoons so his daughters can eat their cereal. Nope, but we loan him two metal ones. He thanks us and goes back. To bed. A half-hour later, we're ready to take off. The spoons are neatly laid out on the picnic table awaiting the sleeping beauties to rouse. Left a note for him to put the spoons at our site marker and we'd be back to collect them after touring the arches. So, why did he come knocking at 6:50 if they were going to still be sleeping? We pull out to visit the sights. The first arch is way down in the
canyon, at least a 500 foot drop in less than 1/4 mile. Steps, a ladder, metal stairs, and a rocky footpath. Loni is a trooper and we make it down and back in 50 minutes. We bag the second one from the overlook, but the third is easy to get to, and spectacular viewed from underneath. Pretty nifty formations, which is severe understatement for features that have taken thousands of years to develop. But I'm out of hyperbole. Back to our site, and our spoons are indeed clipped to the post with a thank-you note. We depart, to head for Monument Valley. The road south
from NB is SR261. Warning! Abandon all hope, ye who enter here. The first thing we see as we turn onto this road is a large sign warning that there are 27 miles of gravel road coming up. Huh? It's shown as paved on the map. We press on. At about the 1/3 mark, the asphalt paving indeed stops and we're on a very hard-rolled-and-sealed gravel, which is virtually indistinguishable from the asphalt. No sweat, we say. This road runs down the length of a high plateau. When we're about 10 miles from the end, new warning signs appear: "Steep downgrade
(10%)." And, the road, previously straight as an arrow, begins to wind and . . .turns . . . into . . . REAL GRAVEL. Loose, not packed, washboardy, and rutted. Posted limit is 5 mph! I believe it. This turns into the gulpiest road we've been on, ever. One lane wide, with very few wider spots for the two-way traffic to cope. No guardrails. Sheer dropoffs of 500 to 1,000 feet. Hairpin turns in excess of 180 degrees. At one point we saw an oncoming car below us, so we found a slightly wide spot and pulled in on the mountain side to wait for it to reach us. As we watched, we saw
that the driver was steering with one hand. When he got closer we saw why. His face was frozen in a rictus, and he was constantly crossing himself with the other hand! He looked paralyzed with fear. As we descended, Loni thought she was going to be sick every time she looked out her window and found herself looking straight down the cliff. We crept down, slow and steady. The hairpins were particularly fun. I'm glad we're not any longer. A longer wheelbase would have conniptions. As of this day, however, I no longer have ANY fear of driving this thing anywhere. This has got to be the ultimate test. I need to write the Michelin road atlas people, as they don't show this at all. After five miles of this we're at the bottom and back to pavement. We decided to bypass 
the Valley of the Gods as it's off on another 20 mile loop of gravel road that I can to without. On to Monument Valley. This part of the country is what I had always fixed in my mind as the quintessential rv-ing trip --- huge vistas with a lonely road disappearing into the distance ahead. We sure got that, but I thought there would be a lot more of the classic buttes that you always see in photos of this area. The only really good views of them were from the Navajo park, which is a $5/person entry fee. Once in, you basically see about five major buttes from a high viewpoint. 
These are the ones you see in commercials and travelogues. Impressive, yes, but a bit less so than expected. I think we're getting jaded.We left the Navajo park, on our way now to the Grand Canyon. We plan to break up the drive by staying in Tuba City, which we think we're familiar with from the Tony Hillerman mysteries. What we didn't know was how depressingly ugly the place is. It appears to have been dropped at random from a great height, and everything just stuck where it landed. Like Oakland, there's no
"there" there, only more so. The only and homely RV park came complete with leaky faucet and impressive barking dogs all the way to midnight from the trailer-trash park immediately adjacent. The place DID have cable, however, which was not a blessing, as we suffered through Woody Harrelson's stupidity in "The Cowboy Way." Yech, it was awful. Still, it beat the alternative, which was walking the alleyways of Tuba City.
