Horror on the Highway

We have been in the Sonoran Desert for 36 hours, and there's already much to tell you. For starters, we had our first javelina interaction on the trail. Also, our trip route will have a different flavor in the last chapters since changes have been made. I owe Kanab, Utah, a Valentine's write-up. Our stay was brief, but I was reminded why it holds a place in my heart while also telling me we were right not to stay longer. Funny how love works that way, right? It can be a pull-push proposition.

But these can all wait.

This morning, I'm sharing how one of our favorite drives went from dreamy to moody to festive before it turned horrific.

Leaving Kanab, the more popular route south is heading east toward Page, Arizona, and Glen Canyon before hanging a sharp right. That is Route 89 and remains that until Sedona. (Funny thing about 89: it doesn't seem like such a major road to me, but we'll meet again. It meanders north to Yellowstone's southern gate and loses its name while delivering you to Old Faithful) and recalls its name once it leaves the National Park and enters Montana. Eventually, it reaches the Canadian border.)

However, I prefer to leave Kanab by driving immediately south through Fredonia, Arizona. That sparse town gives way to Kaibab National Forest above the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. Access is closed in winter. But once in Kaibab, 89A begins climbing until it delivers you to a corridor of our favorite trees—the stately ponderosa pines.

The area was snowy, but the road was safe and clear.

We descended through rock walls to one of my favorite stretches of lonely road. The prehistoric Vermilion Cliffs stretch on in glowing and glowering brilliance forever, it feels. And that's where our video begins.

We stopped several times in what felt like land and settlements that time forgot before reuniting with Route 89 for a trip through Navajo Nation.

In Flagstaff, Arizona, snow began falling, and then it hit hard. I was tossed back to my only major car accident, which happened in snowy Flagstaff, where roads are not treated for storms nor plowed all that well.