Recapture Lodge sits on a couple acres about a half mile from the San Juan River. We loved the quaint character of the lodge, but the walls were paper thin and there was no air conditioning. A huge group of German tourists departed early this morning so they were up bustling about by 6 am. Of course, the neighborhood roosters woke everyone early.
After things quieted down, we strolled over to the office for a home style breakfast. Flowered tablecloths and fresh flowers on every table, real china dishes, boxes of cereal on the counter, fresh fruit in a basket, the toaster with bags of bread and jam set on a table. On one side board, a collection of regional maps, tour books, scrabble games and books. On another, kids' art projects of Pueblo structures, dusty house plants and unusual rocks. It was a room I could get lost in.
Later, we ambled down to the river. Birds, finally, flit among the scrubby brush, except the vultures which keep a close eye on us from nearby dead cottonwoods. The river flowed faster and muddier than we expected. At least sixty feet wide, crooked shadows from the towering cliffs fell across the water. As we turned back, we were startled by a voice from the river calling out to us. A canoeist, gliding rapidly along the surface, "Is this the park campsites?" "No, this is a lodge!"
On the way back, we discovered a structure built by architectural design students. It's intent is to provide shade and relief from the intense sun at mid day, but also blend in with the environment. It was constructed of steel cables in the shape of arching saplings. Then they wove willow branches through the steel to give it a natural appearance. Rock benches underneath offers seating. It was so inconspicuous that we barely notice it.
Most tourists are up and out on the road early, but we so enjoy a morning's quiet moments. An hour's walk starts the day off right.
We drove through the steeples and towers of Monument Valley today. It lies entirely within the Navajo Reservation. In the distance, the White Mesa. Sprinkled in the wild terrain were pockets of settlements. A trailer, a few ranch houses, outbuildings and a corral. Occasionally, a short windmill and water tank. For many miles, an electric railroad track paralleled the highway. How do these folks make their living in such isolation? Where do they get their water? It was so desolate.
Fortunately, there were very few sharp curves and steep drops, so we may sleep better tonight. Tomorrow, our destination is the south rim of the Grand Canyon. Route 64 is supposed to be picturesque, but not too dangerous. We changed our plans and dropped the visit to the north rim
entirely. Too much scary driving! The temperatures are still outrageously hot, so we will do more looking than hiking.
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