Today I managed not only another major mile-crushing achievement by cutting an entire day off of the drive to Seattle, but I also squeezed in a few stops at some breathtaking places. As I packed up to leave Albuquerque, I discovered that the Mystery Machine’s primary lasting gremlin is an oil leak. Or it burns it, not sure which yet. So I dropped by an adobe-clad AutoZone for more.
From there, it was a short drive down the road to Walter White’s tombstone, the protagonist of AMC’s Breaking Bad.
A mock funeral for the fictional meth-cooking star of Breaking Bad, Walter White, aka “Heisenberg” (played by actor Bryan Cranston) was held on October 19, 2013, shortly after the conclusion of the show. When the mourning procession placed a headstone at Albuquerque’s Sunset Memorial Park Cemetery, however, the relatives of the actual dead buried in the cemetery started to complain. Afterward, the grave was relocated to a strip mall where one of the fan funeral organizers owns a steakhouse.
Grave of Walter White, Atlas Obscura.
I left Albuquerque hoping to make it somewhere close to Salt Lake City tonight. Yet again, I find myself speeding through New Mexico on the way to someplace else — but I always end up frozen in awe of something. Today, that was Shiprock.
Deep inside the Navajo Nation, Shiprock, or Tsé Bitʼaʼí, means “rock with wings.” It’s a volcanic rock formation that I was able to see from almost sixty miles away. At its peak, it’s over 7,100 feet above sea level. “Governed by the Navajo Nation, the formation is in the Four Corners region and plays a significant role in Navajo religion, myth, and tradition. It is located in the center of the area occupied by the Ancient Pueblo People, a prehistoric Native American culture of the Southwest United States often referred to as the Anasazi” (Wikipedia). This region is full of mesas, plateaus, and small mountains, but this formation erupts from the middle of a plain, with three “wall-like sheets of minette, known as dikes, [that] radiate away from the central formation.”
Shiprock and the surrounding land have religious and historical significance to the Navajo people. It is mentioned in many of their myths and legends. Foremost is the peak’s role as the agent that brought the Navajo to the southwest. According to one legend, after being transported from another place, the Navajos lived on the monolith, “coming down only to plant their fields and get water.” One day, the peak was struck by lightning, obliterating the trail and leaving only a sheer cliff, and stranding the women and children on top to starve. The presence of people on the peak is forbidden “for fear they might stir up the chį́įdii (ghosts), or rob their corpses.”
Laurance D. Linford, Navajo Places: History, Legend, Landscape. (Wikipedia)
The high-altitude mountain air had been cool enough, compared to yesterday’s oppressive heat, but the sun just beat down on me while I walked around and had a snack. I got back on the road for two sites I wanted to see in Utah.
This meant clipping the southwest corner of Colorado for a quick gas stop in Cortez. Today’s more scenic miles have substantially increased my gas mileage. Maybe the Mystery Machine is trying to make it up to me for apparently drinking oil. I spent less time driving through Colorado, one of my most favorite states, than I usually do even on layovers in Denver International. It was a bit sad, but I was looking forward to another Utah adventure, however short.
My first stop was Newspaper Rock, an amazing collection of petroglyphs just outside the southeast entrance to Canyonlands National Park.
After that, I raced the setting sun past Moab to Canyonlands National Park. I was debating between there and Dead Horse State Park, famous not only for its views, but also as the site where Thelma and Louise joined hands and… “continued their roadtrip”… rather than be taken down by the law. (How have I not seen this movie?)
It felt sinful to only have about an hour here, but it would have felt even worse to skip it. I decided to make a run for the Grand View Point beyond the Island in the Sky entrance at Canyonlands in hopes of catching the sunset there. I immediately understood the name.
I made it.
As it got dark, I got back on the road. Originally, I had planned to stay here in Moab, but chipping away at the remaining miles to Seattle would help this week go more smoothly. What I did not realize until it was too late is that there really wasn’t a good remote-work-friendly overnight option until Provo, about three hours away. So I shotgunned another few Diet Cokes and pushed on through the mountain pass. As I sped through, I could, without exaggeration, clearly see the Milky Way out the windows over the swiftly passing canyon walls.
Tomorrow begins a regular work week, so driving hours are after-hours. But I should still have some sightseeing time because the days are long and I work Central Time.
Good news from the other two — their cars were delivered to the tow yard in Tacoma last night! I’m glad, because vehicle shipping has always made me nervous. However, I must admit to an odd sense of smugness yet loss. They didn’t get to see all this. I cannot believe how far I made it in two days while still stopping to see so much. And I really cannot believe that the big trip starts this weekend.
