After lunch we headed into Arizona and stopped in at the Painted Desert and Petrified Forest. We stopped first at the little gift shop and bought a small piece of petrified wood. I love rocks and didn't want to be tempted to snatch a piece while we were touring. I wanted to have it the honest way because I certainly don't need any bad karma. It is just amazing how petrified wood is formed (just click the link). The drive we took through this National Park started in the Painted Desert. The first overlook was just amazing. The colorful layers of the stone hills was just gorgeous. It is hard to describe the shapes because at the same time it looked like eroded mountains and washed out gullies.
The photos above are taken in the Painted Desert portion of the National Park on the north side of I-40. One of the informational signs said that as far as the eye can see is the Navajo
Indian Reservation. After you cross onto the south side of I-40 you will be in the Petrified Forest area of the Park pictured below. It isn't a modern day forest but is the relic of an ancient one. The dark colored rocks that you see lying along the ground in the photos are the pieces of trees and logs that became petrified and actually feel and have weight like stone. In the gift shop were slices from some of the trees that had been smoothed and polished.You could see the concentric growth rings just as you find when a growing tree is sliced through. They have a dark reddish, rust, burgundy color with streaks of lighter white colors.
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| Note the nearly whole log lying on one of the mountains in this photo. |
After leaving the park we headed over to the little town of Holbrook, AZ, passing trading posts along the way where petrified wood in large chunks were for sale. We got back onto I-40 and headed to Flagstaff. On the way Randy was scouting for a restaurant where we could have dinner before we arrived at the Grand Canyon. Along the way we passed through Winslow, AZ and I was reminded of the song "Take It Easy" that has a line that says "I was standing on the corner in Winslow, Arizona." We continued on to Flagstaff and finally the landscape changed from a barren desert to one with TREES!
Randy searched online and found a restaurant in Williams, AZ, a small old west town, where we would leave the interstate to head to the Grand Canyon. The Singing Pig recommended reservations so Randy called ahead. I was worried that it might be too late to get reservations but the proprietor added our name and told us to be careful of elk crossing the highway as we came into the area. We could see in the distance a snow covered mountain standing high above the hills. It was Humphrey's Peak, the highest peak in Arizona and our exit would be just past the peak.
We drove into the small town and it looked pretty rustic and woodsy. The restaurant was easy enough to find in behind the Red Horse Saloon (the Singing Pig website refers to it as the Sultana Saloon but the sign said Red Horse). The only parking space was diagonal on the street between two giant Ford trucks. Our car was dwarfed between them and when I got out of the driver's seat, I felt like a midget standing beside them.
The sign for the Singing Pig was a white board propped on a chair on the sidewalk. We entered and I immediately thought we had entered through the wrong entrance. There was one long, narrow table sliced from a tree with chairs along either side and that was it as far as seating. There was a younger bearded man sitting there with a box of papers (receipts?) in front of him and he was sorting through these.
If this was it for seating, no wonder they asked for reservations. We were there at around 5:15 and there wasn't a line, but still, in the summer months I guess it could get pretty crowded.
There was a gregarious older middle aged woman who immediately greeted us and asked if we had reservations. We said that we did and told her we were the Blanchards. She took us into the attached Saloon and seated us at another long table (there were 5 or 6 of these) cut from a tree. She explained to us that the restaurant had no liquor license so if we wanted beer, wine or a mixed drink with our meal, we would have to order it from the bar and bring it to our table. She gave us the menu... You really must click on that link. Why, yes... it does have Pig Balls on it. Neither of us were game for that but we were interested in the Pulled Pork BBQ sandwich.
We sat and looked around the Saloon... the men were obviously rancher types in their worn, authentic jeans, boots and work shirts. There were 2 women and they were uh.... comfortable in the bar atmosphere. They weren't city girls but they weren't tomboys... I guess "well seasoned" is a good description. They looked like the bar was their home away from home, their get away place. Dead animals, mostly elk, hung around the walls. Honky-tonk music played and you could hear the clunking together of the balls on the pool table in the front of the saloon and every now and again cheers and laughter followed the sound of the balls hitting together.
Soon our food arrived. It wasn't bad... I was able to eat it... and I would recommend that if you stop there, you should try it but personally, I would not order it again if I stopped in. The chutney was just a bizarre addition, totally uncalled for.
Two other couples were seated there in the bar at their own long table by the Singing Pig's hostess and they got the same line about the drinks, etc... that we got. One couple was from England and the other couple sat far enough away that I didn't hear them say where they were from. Randy remarked that he hoped the couple from England didn't think this restaurant and its setup was typical of restaurants in the United States.
We paid up and headed north from Williams for the last 45 minutes of our trip. We arrived at Tusayan, the town nearest the Grand Canyon Village, and checked into our hotel room at the Best Western. We got our things ready so that right after breakfast the next morning we could head to the Canyon.
