By this time in the ride we had our ‘sea legs’. What would have been at least an overnight trip from Ottawa a few weeks earlier was now our daily regime. So when you’re this “close” to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon you take the detour.
Only open seasonally, the North Rim is the lesser travelled side of the Grand Canyon but as I’d not seen either side, this was going to be a new adventure.
After the long and eventful day yesterday I realized that I hadn’t really ‘seen’ the Arizona desert. I was only making the comparison between the lush, cool greens and blues of yesterday morning to the desolate, flat, seemingly endless shades of rust, beige and brown.
Through fresh morning eyes I noticed so much more. So many shades of green dotted the landscape and as much as the rain had made our ride so challenging the day before, it had brought the desert to life. Most refreshing were the bouquets of purple flowers that had popped up randomly along the roadway. I unfortunately didn’t take the time to stop and take a photo but here is a stock image of Rose Sage which I believe is what I saw.
About 70 miles into our journey we came to Marble Canyon where the Colorado River cuts through the desert like a huge green vein.
We took some photos (and a Zandra selfie of course – more about that in another blog post) and continued on to the Grand Canyon.
As much as every day of this trip had been a new experience one thing that popped into my head often was that we were always moving forward and rarely retracing our route by more than a mile or two. The detour to the North Rim (as we experienced folk like to call it) was an exception to this, taking us 50 miles into the Park and then the same 50 miles out. It was worth it.
We had a good lunch and well-deserved break in the lodge and then convinced Zandra that notwithstanding her fear of heights, she had come this far and must see it for herself.
However, seeing this on the horizon we made it a swift viewing with the requisite oohhs and awwes, threw on our rain gear and started another round of storm racing.
We were much luckier than the day before, either we rode around the storm or it blew around us, either way we got through it unscathed.
Onward to Bryce Canyon, Utah for the night. As I’ve mentioned before, my American geography was seriously lacking prior to this trip and as we moved further southwest I had even less knowledge of what to expect. Having now ridden through miles and miles of desert I was startled when we were merely minutes over the state line into Utah when we rode through a small town with huge, shady, green, leafy trees on every street and in front of every home. Not the fake-looking, landscaped kind but the 100 year-old solid trees with deep roots finding every drop of water in spite of the years of drought that has so obviously devastated this region. It was truly a breath of fresh air.
Whatever you ride – ride safe.
Helen
Arizona ☑️
The Almost 200 Gang 