Wednesday, October 4^th, 1999

Meanwhile I left the Grand Canyon. I stay overnight in Flagstaff. At present my broken feet are glued at the actually clean paving tiles of the bathroom firmly. Human adhesive from open blisters at the feet. Also a body fluid.

Sayings

Where are you headed? - South Rim. - You must be an animal. (a woman that came towards me.)

See you in your bed. (a man on his way to Golden Angel Campground (with the socks) who didn’t believe that I was headed at South Rim.)

You'd better carry an ape. (a man about my backpack)

From Flagstaff it goes back again to the Grand Canyon because of a Permits for Cottonwood. I get a second place on the waiting list for the next day. After all a souvenir from the South Rim Backcountry Office. I will not be able to use it. Because of my feet. A fairy tale from my Grand Canyon book is clarified: you don’t need a permit for any trail at all. Only for staying overnight.

It goes towards Mexican Hat, in order to find to "Goosenecks of the Sanyasinto River". I searched into the night. Nothing found. Overnight stay at Mexican Hat.

Thursday, October 5^th, 1999

The search continues. This time with asking before. Thus behind Mexican Hat in direction to Gooseneck State Park. The mentioned Goosenecks appear and it goes steeply up the mountains. Not even a suggestion of the mentioned junction. Finally I decide to follow the road to the left branching directly behind the serpentines. It goes straight ahead for a long time. Then a right bend and it goes straight ahead again. No hint of the promised view over Monument Valley. Other Monuments are located in between. Since there ist no chance to clarify that I go back.

On the way to the Highway, briefly "behind" the serpentines, it goes to the left into the Valley of the Gods.

With this decision the day began to take an unplanned devolution. After taking a few photos a dip comes. I imagine nothing and continue to drive with approx.. 30ml/h. Until yet not too fast for this road. With the beginning dip it goes steeply downwards immediately. For two to three seconds the car does not react on the steering. Anyhow not on the classical, that with the steering wheel.

It is steered by a boulder, that is about half as high and as broadly as the diameter of a tire of the Van. Oops. We are beyond. As a precaution I step out and check. It was a bombastisc impact. In the car hardly nothing mobile remained at its place.

The tire is bust. A large hole in the coat points on little luck when inflating. Thus fetching the spare wheel. Before I understood, that it is not necessary, I already vacated everything in the back. Well.

All described at its best. To change the tire is absolutely smooth. The spare wheel is however only a spare tire (not a full-size one) as a donut. The heck with it! Will last long enough. If one has no more spare wheel, one gets a lot respect for this dust road. There is still much to photograph. Finally I am back on the Highway 160 again. Off towards Monument Valley..

From the frugality of the facilities and "buildings" in contrast to the Grand Canyon I am almost shocked. That is like GDR/FRG. Later on I notice, that that is standard between Utah and Arizona. I also still make myself on the eleven miles long way. But it is nevertheless everything too similar to the Valley of the Gods. I do not have no more desire and turn around. Also I would like to take care of the repair of the tire. Thus in direction to the next target: Page.

The villages at the way do not have any garage. However, the donut will last for the distance up to Page. A sign announces it: Page 10ml. Thus it is nearly done. A lake emerges. Probably a part of the Lake Powell. I look for a favorable position for photographing. Bang, Impact, as I intercept the car I am in the middle of the road, with the half car on the oncoming lane. A car comes towards me, it is however fortunately far enough away.

Stop rightmost, step out, check. Again in front at the right. Shit, now you are standing here in the wallachia. Scarcely seven miles to Page. Nevertheless, it could have come more badly. Thumb into air. It did not hold ever for one. I would not do it surely for me also. The seventh car stops. I am that perplex, that I run immediately afterwards and let me take with. No papers, nothing taken with me except the car keys. I am not even safe, that the car is locked.

While entering Page I see a sign "tourist information". There I can be set off. No humans in it. The door is open. A sign points on it, that the telephone can be used freely. I assume, that it permits only local calls and the 1-800'er numbers.

Outside I see a sign "Powell museum". There I go. The lady behind the counter telephones to all the world and her brother for me. After fifteen minutes a tow truck stands outside. Bob tells me of his son who served in Würzburg. He talks so self-evident about facilities on the military area, as would I also have to know this all.

It brings the van to Big-O-Tire, a tire repair service. We twaddle a while, he still tells me, that a heavy ice block of nine pound was fallen his wife’s foot. Fortunately nothing is broken. She shouldn’t put a strain on the foot for the next two to three weeks. "How shall that work", he asks himself. We say good-bye and I make myselves to the telephone, in order to call Alamo and to co-ordinate the further proceeding with them. It takes a while, until she believes me, that it is not done with a renewed tire change. Occasionally I am in the waiting loop again and again, while she comes to an agreement otherwise.

Her first suggestion was to make a replacement vehicle available for me. She takes it back again. I am "Somewhere in the middle of nothing". I shall let repair the car locally and get the money in return, she finally says. That also seemed to be the most meaningful to me - the car already was in the garage. I wanted to give the order now. However the tire twerp was already busy with it. Thus remained for me, only to say that I just got the o.k. for what he’s already doing. Then I agree with him, that he also shou set up the front tread width. It was obviously adjusted, what also let the second tire burst. On the short distance it was down-driven up to the tire belt. That the front tread width was adjusted was visible to the naked eye.

My motel is exactly in the opposite the garage

[Grand Canyon] [Deutsch] [English] [October 1st, 1999] [North Rim] [The Way Back] [Valley of the Gods] [Photos 1999] [Photos 2004] [Impressum] [Software]