Sedona- Part 2

If you missed part 1, I suggest you read it here first!

The drive out of Sedona was gorgeous.  Dakota and I drove through the winding roads of the Coconino National Forest and the views were incredible.  I had told myself that I wanted to stop at every “scenic view” sign and take a minute to check it out, since I had the time and freedom to do it.  So about 30 minutes into our drive we come up on our first sign. I pull off into the parking lot and grab Dakota’s leash only to see that she is standing in her own poop, which is now squished into the passenger seat.  The van has literally scared the sh** out of her.

At this point I’m nearly in tears and I’m feeling completely overwhelmed. We have 2 days of driving left and it feels like my vanlife dreams are being shattered. First my boyfriend doesn’t want to do vanlife, now my dog.  I try and stay calm as I clean up the mess from the car and take Dakota for a little walk. Maybe if I can wear her out she’ll be too tired to be afraid. The place we stopped had incredible views of the canyon and there were all sorts of stands set up selling Native American jewelry, instruments, and dream catchers.  I really wanted to get a dream catcher for Forrest’s rear view mirror but I was so determined to get this drive over with that I completely forgot. We took a quick walk then I picked my trembling dog up and put her in the van again.

Our next stop was the one my Uber driver had recommended to me.  We had been driving for a while and I was looking forward to getting out of the van and doing this hike.  We came up onto the unmarked turnoff and hit a washboard dirt road. If you’ve never driven on one of these, it’s exactly what it sounds like… like driving on a washboard.  I made it about 100 feet down the road and realized there was no way I could do this with Dakota. The entire van was shaking, trembling, and rattling. So I made a U-turn and hit the road again, making a mental note to come back to this place someday.  A few minutes later I came across a sign alongside the road. It warned, “Rough Road- Next 24 miles”. I rolled my eyes but really had no idea what kind of metaphor this would be for my life in the next few weeks.

Not too long after this we came up on Horeshoe Bend.  I had originally wanted to check this out at sunrise or sunset but there was no time to mess around now that I had a scared dog, so midday was going to have to suffice.  We got out of the hot van into the even hotter parking lot. I made sure I carried PLENTY of water for both of us and we began making our way though the crowds. I had been told that this spot was quite the tourist attraction and often brought big tour buses full of people.  That was exactly the case as we showed up. We were on a serious mission so we weaved in and out of people and passed large groups on our way up the short trail. This trail is extremely sandy and exposed so we were getting whipped with sand and were baking in the sun. Dakota was the only dog there and I was surprised at how many people seemed afraid of her and would go out of their way to walk WAY out of our path.  Eventually we got to the lookout point, and in true Dakota fashion, she walked RIGHT up to the edge. She has never been scared of a cliff edge and prefers that spot for the best view. I have several gray hairs just from watching her step out on the edge like that. We took some time to take in the view around the crowds of people. I got some great pictures and we looked out at the river below for as long as we could stand the heat.  I enjoyed all of this very much until I realized I wanted a picture of me and Dakota here, and I had nobody to help me. As I looked around for someone to ask, I realized nobody around me was speaking English and everyone was avoiding my dog. I finally found a couple who took our picture and that’s when I learned Lesson #5- If you’re traveling alone, you need a selfie stick.

Dakota and I returned to the van where she drank down 4 full bowls of water even after drinking from my pack during the entire hike.  She had been panting so hard in the car due to the stress that she was beyond parched. I got her loaded up and we were back on the road.  We weren’t on the road for long before I had to find a place to stop and figure out where we were going next. This is where I learned another surprising lesson.  Lesson #6- You can’t drive and figure out where to go at the same time. Now this seems obvious, but when you don’t have an exact destination in mind, you can spend a lot of time parked at a gas station searching for your next stop and trying to figure out how to get there.

Next stop: Lake Powell.  I found a beach access site where camping was allowed and you could drive your vehicle right up to the shore.  There were warnings on the way there and online that you would be driving on the sand and to be careful because vechiles often get stuck.  We successfully made it down the sandy road and were ready to swim. We both got in, cooled off, and took in the beautiful views. We didn’t stay too long because I had decided that we weren’t going to stay overnight at Lake Powell anymore since it was much closer to Sedona than to Salt Lake and I wanted to have a shorter drive the next day.  Plus it was REALLY windy and sand was whipping all over, which would make for a miserable night in the tent. So I pushed Dakota back into the van and got ready to leave again.

The drive down the sandy road to the beach wasn’t too bad but there were cars much smaller than Forrest who had made it to the beach so I figured there had to be an easier way back. As I looked around I noticed what seemed like more of a “road” down the beach a little ways so I figured that must be the better way out. I started Forrest up and headed that way, determined to keep my speed up and wheels spinning so I wouldn’t get stuck. Forrest was chugging along through the sand until suddenly he came to an immediate stop. I gave him a bit more gas but he didn’t budge. No problem, I’ll throw him in reverse! Nothing. I started to laugh because I had just been thinking about how awful it would be to get stuck on my first trip. There was no way I was actually stuck though, there were TONS of vehicles on the beach and none of them were stuck! I pulsed the gas a little to see if I could get him moving. Still nothing. I looked around to see if anyone noticed that I had gotten stuck but the world just seemed to be going on around me without any concern for my van. I got out of the van to assess the situation and noticed that I had managed to get the back wheels (he’s RWD) buried about halfway into the sand (unfortunately in my crisis management mode I didn’t take any pictures of my predicament). Now I was trying not to panic, still in denial that I was actually stuck. I tried to push him out (looking back now I know this is an unrealistic way to get unstuck) and managed to just get covered in sand as it blew relentlessly at my face. I could hear Dakota crying from in the van so I got back in and made a plan. I instantly turned to Google and searched “how to get your car unstuck from the sand”, which basically told me that unless I had something to put under my tires, I’d be out of luck. It was time to swallow my pride and ask for help.

Luckily I had service so I knew that my worst-case scenario would be calling for a tow, but I’d better see if someone else could pull me out first. The beach was covered with trailers, all being hauled by huge pickup trucks, so there were lots of vehicles with the capacity to get me unstuck. As I walked towards the line of trailers I noticed that the sand was getting more packed and solid. I turned around to look at Forrest and realized that in my hurry to get to the “road”, I had driven right through the deepest sand instead of along the shore where the sand was much more van-friendly. I felt like an absolute idiot and now I would have to ask someone for help because I didn’t take the time to look around and notice my surroundings. Too late now though! I got brave and walked up to the first group I could find, which seemed to be having a big family reunion. They didn’t seem very friendly but said they would come help me in a few minutes. I awkwardly walked back to the van, hoping they would actually come rescue me.

I get back to the van and a minute later these two guys pull up in their truck. They loop around and start to back up to the front of the van when their tires start spinning too. I was going to feel AWFUL if I got them stuck too! They pulled off and tried to loop around again but kept hitting patches of sand that was too deep. They decided to try and pull me from the back instead where they could get a little more traction. They hooked up a big chain and told me to reverse. Luckily since Forrest is a big, empty box, he came out of the sand instantly and the guys shouted, “GO! GO!” and pointed in the direction of the least-sketchy sand while I still had some momentum. I got Forrest back safely to pavement and wasn’t sure whether I wanted to laugh or cry.

We were back on the road and I had decided that our next stop would be somewhere in Dixie National Forest. I prefer forest over desert and figured some fresh mountain air would be good for me and Dakota. I had located a spot where I could camp for free earlier in the day but was realizing after my Lake Powell adventure that it would be a close call for making it there before dark. As I turned off the road towards the National Forest, there were signs that the road was under construction and the van started to rattle again. Dakota was panting and trembling but we were nearly there. Although I had a spot picked out for the night across from a lake, I was tempted to turn towards the first campground I saw. Signs warning of dead, falling trees had me making a 10-point turn on a dirt road and heading back towards our original destination. There were deer everywhere. More than I had ever seen in one place (and I grew up in Michigan). I was hopeful that deer would be the only wildlife I would encounter tonight. Normally I carry bear spray but I remembered I didn’t have any with me on this trip.

My GPS was telling me to turn right towards the camping spot but at that junction there was a sign with an arrow pointing left towards the lake. I really had imagined that this camping spot would be near the lake so I ignored the GPS and headed to the lake instead. A few more minutes down twisting roads led me to the lake and a big NO CAMPING sign. Lesson #7- Make a plan for the night and stick with it or you’ll run out of daylight. So I did another 10-point turn and went back to the campsite. As soon as I turned off the road there was an open campsite. I’d rather not camp this close to the road so I continued driving to see what other sites I could find. All of the other sites were taken so I looped back around to the original spot. I got out of the van and let Dakota out too. I walked around to check out our home for the night only to find a big pile of bones. Yes, bones. This didn’t seem like a good omen for my first solo night camping but it was almost dark so I had no other choice. I also realized that neither my puppy or I had eaten dinner yet and it was past 9pm. I fed her and looked in the cooler to see what food I had left for myself. I had hoped to stop and pick something up but Forrest is typically too big for a drive-thru and Dakota was having such a hard time that I just wanted to get to camp. I had a salad mix in a bag and that was it besides the backpacking meal I was saving for breakfast. I quickly set up my tent and a camp chair and sat down to eat. It was only 50 degrees up here in the mountains and I had packed as if I would be camping at Lake Powell. I changed into all of the layers I brought but I was still a little cold. I pulled the salad bag out of the cooler and found that over the last few days, water had soaked into the bag and was now drowning my salad. I squeezed out as much water as I could, mixed in the toppings, and began eating my cold, soggy salad. Not really satisfying while you’re shivering in the dark in the woods, but at least it was food. After forcing myself to eat as much salad as I could, I cleaned up and crawled into the tent. I love having Dakota with me while I’m camping because I feel like she would alert me if there was an animal coming but sometimes having her around makes me more afraid. She’ll lay down and relax and then suddenly perk up and stare off into the dark and I won’t know what she’s looking at. I was still a little freaked out with the bones and was trying not to get in my head too much so I decided to try and get some sleep.

We woke up early the next morning, having survived my first solo overnight trip! I made a quick breakfast, which was much better than dinner, and we hit the road. By this time I was determined to get this trip over with. I couldn’t handle much more of the stress of Dakota and I’m sure she couldn’t either. Plus we had seemed to cram enough adventure into yesterday that I was ready for a little less excitement. We made it home quickly with only one little stop where I’m pretty sure Dakota would have been happy to have been abandoned.

I was ready to start making some big gains on my van build now that this trip was over but I had no idea what kind of rough road I’d still be encountering ahead of me.

“Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass… it’s about learning to dance in the rain.” -Vivian Greene