Monument Valley

I’ve always felt a spiritual side to riding and have often referred to my rides as “my Church”. If riding a motorcycle is Church, then Monument Valley is the Cathedral in which communing with nature is at it’s apex.

My man, Jeff, and I recently completed a 3,500-mile adventure over two weeks. We started by completing an Iron Butt Challenge, the Saddle Sore 1,000, the first day of our trip. We went on, visiting his parents outside of Phoenix. Then, like all bikers, we took the scenic route home.

After a day of heading west to California, then north to Nevada, then back into Arizona, riding Historic Route 66, we spent a night at the Grand Canyon’s south rim. The next day, we rode probably our shortest day, but the best day for photography and relaxing.

Heading out of Grand Canyon National Park on Scenic Highway 64, we spent our Memorial Day riding the Navajo Code Talkers Memorial Highway on State Route 264/US Route 160 through Tuba City, the home of the Code Talkers. I rode through the heat of the desert keeping them and their families in my thoughts and prayers.

As we approached Kayenta, AZ, the highway curves to the right and all of a sudden, the bluffs and mountains on the left fall away and the first rocky formations of Monument Valley come into view on a vast plain that seemingly stretches forever.

We gassed up in Kayenta, had a snack and refilled water bottles. Heading north out of Kayenta, we were able to catch our first photo op. Looking at the map, side roads are not apparent, but there are dirt roads every mile or 2 with asphalt enough to pull over a bike or two. Its 10-15 miles to the Utah State Sign, where my rather unwilling photo subject and I stopped to collect another state sign photo with an amazing view in the background.

Continuing north, I never thought in a million years that the highway was so close to these beautiful limestone formations. I rode down the highway feeling the positive energy of the earth, hot wind in my face, thrumming engine in my ears....peace. I forgot completely to signal to my man to pull over at one of the 12 designated scenic stopping

One Woman’s Bucket List Ride

points at the side of the road and just thoroughly enjoyed the moment. Wind, Earth, Woman, Machine united in one moment. I’d reached that true “biker”.

moment...just enjoying the ride. Life. My man. My bike. My presence in the Universe. Overwhelming gratitude for all of it.

Shaking myself out of my moment of mysticism and back into current reality, I did manage to grab a photo of the major monuments from the backside as the road curves around and away from them.

Just as you think you’ve completed photo ops for the moment, heading north from the valley, you start climbing a long hill, probably one of the most photographed in the nation, as it turns out you’re heading right for Forrest Gump Point. The name of the point comes from the movie, Forrest Gump, where Forrest stops running after 3 years, 2 months, 14 days and 16 hours. Of course, I had to photograph that too! At this point, it was 3:00 or 4:00 in the afternoon and Jeff and I were in the mood for a cold beverage a little stronger than water and Gatorade. We rode up to Mexican Hat in search of a frosty, cold one. We forgot that, in Utah, beers are few and far between and bars are even scarcer. However, we did get to see the rock formation that the town is named for.

We did manage to find beers and decent steaks at the Cottonwood Steakhouse in Bluff, UT before seeking accommodations in Monticello for the evening. For a 300-mile day that would have taken 5 hours by car, we managed to stretch it out into an 11-hour day stopping frequently to wonder at the world around us.

No matter how many or how few photos I managed to capture, Monument Valley was unforgettable.

Pro Tip: Don’t let your Go Pro jump off your bike before the Grand Canyon! Story & Photos: Ann Clark