Then we again raced across the desert, back to Phoenix, and up into the high country.
We stopped in Rock Springs, which was famous as a stagecoach and watering stop. The place we stopped at claimed Waylon Jennings and Marty Robbins were known to write songs in the saloon.
The food was excellent, though we recommend if you plan to go, plan on stopping before you're actually hungry so that by the time the food comes, you'll be starving.
A few miles north, we left the interstate and got on the scenic road up to Sedona. We stopped for the view, not knowing that it gets better. (No, I've never actually been to Nantucket)
A lot better (click to enlarge any of these images)...
This is just outside Sedona. They should call this stretch the "Oh My Highway" because around every turn there awaits another spectacle that forces you to exclaim, "Oh, my!"
I suppose people who live here get used to it, which is unfortunate.
You can see the cactus of the desert has given way to some tree growth and, of course, the rock is red.
Sedona itself is a way-too-precious-for-its-own-good town that apparently fell victim to too many community orgasms at the sight of a Lexus with California plates, but shortly past it, the rock turns white, the red disappears, and the snow appears as we approach 7,000 feet.
The water is rushing fast from the winter melt in the canyon. The desert has given way to pine forest.
I couldn't tell whether the sound I heard in the canyon below was the wind, or the rushing water. I finally settled on it being the water. And, of course, it was quite windy and the jackets came out.
I took enough pictures here to make one of those panorama-type things but the program I used to make it - ClevrStitcher - has become DumbAsAGoddamPostStitcher in the last few days.
We've now made it to Williams, Arizona. The wind is howling, the temperature is 43, and tomorrow we'll head for the Grand Canyon.
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