Looking At Time
We took that trip to see more of America. Early one morning we bundled into my husband’s car, children, bags, dog and all, leaving home in the rear view mirror, at least for a while. I’ve had the persistent feeling for some time now that our understanding of this country is superficial at best. Ten years spent living on both coasts gives you a certain perspective but I am convinced that to get under the skin of this vast land we must make inroads into the middle, by car.
Adopting the philosophy that it’s best to start with small steps, we had planned a short five day trip, travelling through Arizona towards the Grand Canyon and coming home via Las Vegas. For several reasons we removed Las Vegas from our itinerary at the last minute. This was a decision that proved prescient; the additional driving it would have entailed might have tipped the trip over the edge of what was manageable, as it turned out.
As we drove to the dusty ends of California and crossed into Arizona we moved through an endless expanse of cacti and desert; desert of the rocky not the sandy variety. The hills can be huge and formed in fascinating shapes. At times you sense the spirits of the place and see a pale rider on the horizon.
We stopped in Scottsdale on the outskirts of Phoenix and spent the first days there. Scottsdale was a quiet revelation. The town had an easy and friendly feel, a place comfortable in its own skin. There were plenty of golf courses and resort hotels, one of which we stayed in. Old town was charming. We walked around and saw clean streets and buildings that were pretty and well cared for. I was reminded that it’s possible to live in a place that is functional and happy and not a place that can appear to be a hellscape from a terrifying dystopian future. The Christmas decorations were up and even the stones of the buildings seemed to smile with warmth.
We left in the end and headed back out onto the freeway, driving further and further into terrain that became increasingly extraordinary. The red rocks that began to appear as we approached Sedona are simply phenomenal. Vivid and massive they tower above you, creating an atmosphere that is impossible to ignore. Sedona is famed as a destination for spiritual pleasure seekers. Eager in their endless quest for sensation they are said to stand in the energy vortexes that dot the town and experience enlightenment. For myself I was happy to drive through in the car and smile as we saw Gandalf walking down Portal Lane. Some places are better left that way.
From Sedona we took the scenic route and climbed up up up a zig zag mountain until we reached Flagstaff. It’s a town immortalised in the song Route 66, which cuts right through its middle. When we clambered out of the car for lunch I staggered under an onslaught of impressions. First was the cold. Then the feeling that somehow I had been to this place before. There was a rawness to the air, a toughness so to say, something quite elementally American that I recognised immediately. I was reminded of the hobos, we had just passed a long, long freight train, who rode through the cold on their endless way. I thought that we could have been in any number of places rather than just that one. I thought of cold winter afternoons in Brooklyn, of the steel bridges of Manhattan and I wondered. I wondered about the themes running through the American landscape, themes brought into being by the writers and poets who have loved this land which we now experience as deeply as we feel the external environment. And then, deeper than that, the currents of the land itself which ebb and flow to their own rhythms. And I thought of how Sedona with its New Age boastings and crystal darkness reminded me of Woodstock. Places where people went or go to get lost amidst the trappings of a new dawn which of course is not new at all.
We drove all day and as the light fled from the air we found ourselves in the midst of the Grand Canyon National park. We caught the view just before sundown and again the next morning when the sky was bright with pinks and blues and the air was so cold that I felt it breathe inside my chest. What does one say to millions of years as one gazes upon them? I could feel an internal shift as I looked around and saw the rocks, ridges and terrifyingly steep chasm stretch in every direction. If I had been wishing to begin to grapple with the creature that is this place, these United States then this facet of nature was as good a point as any to start. The Grand Canyon is not a warm place in any sense of the word. Impervious to humanity its very being is impenetrable; its magnificence undeniable.
We spent the night in one of the lodges in the park. Crammed together in one chaotic room, we put the heating at full blast as the air froze all around us. Duke, over excited beyond measure, galloped around the room as our daughter shouted with laughter and encouraged him any which way she could. I chuckled as I reflected that while road trips are not the easiest or most comfortable way to take a family holiday they are certainly a time when you learn new things about each other and yourself. If you are lucky you gain fresh insight into skilful behaviour and how precious one’s family truly is.
We spent one last night in Scottsdale. Quite by chance we stumbled upon a great restaurant and enjoyed one of those rare meals where everything is perfect. From the heated patio shimmering with lights where Duke was treated like royalty, to the food and the staff who were friendly and delightfully kind it was just a special occasion. One that appeared without warning or preparation; we were fortunate enough to bathe in its warm glow.
We drove home eventually, taking our time to leave Arizona and return to California. It’s great to be home and its great to know that the road is out there, just waiting to be travelled.
