We woke up. Yes, we survived our night of terrors. Wolf's baseball sized bug bite wasn't poisonous and no unwelcome visitors crawled into the tent at night. Our revised tent from Charlotte (unfortunately not mentioned in the post but thank you to Peter's mom) saved us.
For the next stretch, we had one goal in mind: get to a swimming hole. The heat and unrelenting desert needed an oasis. Being atlas experts by this point, we pulled out the map, spotted Lake Powell, and drove southwest into Arizona toward Monument Valley. We had no idea what we were in for.
The scenery hasn't changed but it is still spectacular.
We will share a secret with you. We were planning on driving through Bluff to stay in Mexican Hat, Utah. We were pumped to stay in the town of 77 people, but we learned in Bluff that the town had no campgrounds. So we stayed in Bluff, but drove through Mexican Hat on this day. It is properly named Mexican Hat because of this sombrero in the distance. We feel like they might have to change the name in five years if they don't invest in any duct tape.
Decided not to set up camp at 11am next to this brown body of water. We drive on to Lake Powell.
Which Oscar winner ran on this road (See answer below the song)? Approaching Monument Valley.
Truly monumental.
We continued to encounter amazing geological formations past Monument Valley. Next stop: Lake Powell in Page, AZ.
Finally, we arrive at Lake Powell. With the 90+ degree weather beaming down, and no real destination but this, we looked for access.
With the football in hand, we climbed down the rock toward the fresh water lake.
We made it. We hopped in and played some water footbeers. The landscape was incredibly slanted. Besides the natural difficulty of catching a slippery football with one hand, we couldn't keep our feet planted in the sloped, muddy lake floor.
Everything was great until we smelled the rancid dead fish and witnessed inappropriate public actions by a few Native American couples.
With inclement weather racing in, we decided to get out of there. We passed a Native American local who ensured us that it would not rain. We had seen enough of this weather to know he was mistaken.
It never rained.
After a couple burritos at a Mexican restaurant in Page and phone calls to our girlfriends, we drove to the northern side of the lake across the Utah border.
We passed the dam as we headed toward Utah.
And the scenic gorge.
Blue.
Both of us wanted some picture love with Lone Rock.
We met a couple guys who were making a cross country trip of their own. They started in Philadelphia and their final destination was...drumroll...Portland. Greg (right) was moving to Portland, following his muse while Victor (left) went along for the ride. It was Greg's birthday at 12 so we offered them celebratory shots of Evan Williams.
Victor informed us that he made it back to Philadelphia and Greg is doing well living in Portland.
Simon and Garfunkel - "I Am A Rock"
Answer: Tom Hanks from Forest Gump
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