Dry, desolate and hot. That’s the only way I can describe this part of Arizona. The oppressive heat saps your energy and the endless grasslands lull you into questioning whether anyone could actually live out here.  Its history of giant glaciers, volcanoes, dinosaurs and ancient peoples are evidenced in the lay of the land. But it is really not our kind of place.

Michael has wanted to see the Petrified Forest ever since he saw the movie of that name with  Humphery Bogart, Betty Davis and Leslie Howard.  This 1932 film was probably shot on a Hollywood lot but nonetheless, he wanted to see it for himself.  We got to the National Park about 10 am. Temperatures were moderate and the skies overcast—perfect. The first 17 of the 28 miles were the Painted Desert. There is a strange beauty in this vast, dry land of low hills and yellow buckwheat flowers. We watched as the sun shifted, changing the desert colors from dark brown to vermillion to deep reds and the yellow buckwheat flowers from beige to golden. We were told that the best time to photograph the painted desert was at sunset.  However, the park closes before that  and, though I tried, I was unable to get permission to come in at that time. We also saw common nighthawks flying over the painted desert.  They are on my list of birds I will probably never be able to photograph because of their size and speed. The others include swallows and swifts.

Painted Desert

As the sun burned off the clouds and the heat intensified, we drove into the Petrified Forest. It is not really a forest as I think of one, but a vast terrain of low hills in hues of burnt sienna ( some in the shape of teepees) , large granite rocks,  and pieces of petrified wood scattered throughout the landscape. We visited an excavated pueblo and kiva supposedly inhabited thousands of years ago by what is believed to be the ancestors of the Hopi, Navajo and Zuni Indians. Many of the rocks contained petroglyphs.

Petroglyphs

Teepees

The more we stopped at each pull off the more miserable Michael and Lily became. The heat was intense and the sun consuming. While they sat in the air conditioned Tracker, I persevered  over a ¾  mile trail to photograph the  petrified wood. There were beautiful pieces laced with azure, magenta and orange colors. We did get to see “Old Faithful”, one of the largest pieces of petrified wood in the park.

Petrified Wood

"Old Faithful"

Unfortunately, as we were getting out of the car at a viewing area I dropped my 5D Mark II on the ground. The polarizing filter flew off and shattered as the camera hit the ground lens first. The camera works fine but the ridge of the lens dented to the extent that I cannot put a filter or lens cap on it. I switched from the 24-70 to my 17-40 wide angle lens which actually worked quite well  for  photographing the petrified wood.

One of the highlights of the day was a visit to Stewart’s Rock Shop. A couple we had met at the Bryce Canyon campground recommended we stop there. The outside of the shop can only be described as unique.  The shop, located just off of I-40, is run by Stewart, a tiny, old black woman with short dreadlocks and several missing front teeth who knew everything there was to know about every rock and stone in the well stocked store. She was nice enough to let us bring Lily in with us as we grazed through the aisles and aisles and shelves of petrified wood, fossils and stone.  The assortment was overwhelming. Ironically, we ended up purchasing a beautiful 12” diameter Ammonite from Morocco. We also picked up a couple of local things for the grand kids.

Stewart's Petrified Wood Shop

Hot is hot no matter how dry it is. Even though we had left the air conditioning on in the motor home it did nothing to lessen the oppressive heat. Michael made me one of “his” drinks of vodka, orange juice and cranberry juice and I was “out”. Dinner, which I eventually garnered the energy to prepare, consisted of hamburgers, home made blue cheese dressing and raw broccoli. We read ourselves to sleep finally as the motor home began to cool.

Today we worked our way out of Arizona, through New Mexico and into Texas. We are staying at a campground just west of Amarillo. Can’t wait to start seeing trees and rivers.