June 18, Horseshoe Grand Canyon, Painted Dessert, Petrified Forest and a POW Wow

June 18, 2025

We took a little detour today—an hour off Route 66—to visit Horseshoe Bend near the Grand Canyon. It was more than worth it. I had my scooter, and Janet powered along with her walker. I tried to trade with her at several points, but she wasn't having it. Thanks to her daily walks with Augie, her brother's dog, she’s in training mode! Augie’s been her coach for months now, insisting she take him out every day. Thank you, Augie—you’ve done good work.

It was hot, and we stayed hydrated with a lot of water and Gatorade. The view was absolutely breathtaking. From our perch, we looked down at the Colorado River. The kayaks below looked like tiny little toy boats next to the massive walls of rock surrounding them. We spotted a motorboat too—barely visible—but you could make out the ripples it left trailing behind on the water.

I sat there for a while, just soaking it in, praying, and reflecting on this incredible journey we’re on. Then I noticed a little toddler—part of a family of five—trailing behind her group. When she reached the railing, she suddenly jumped up and shouted, “I found it!” Her joy was pure and contagious. She wasn’t just looking for the view—she had been looking for that moment her whole life. It reminded me of how beautiful it is to witness families, generations together, sharing one of God’s greatest gifts: nature.

We stayed in Holbrook. We visited the Painted Desert, and wow—those layers of colored rock in shades of blue, pink, and brown were absolutely stunning. While we were there we also saw something really special: ancient petroglyphs carved into the rocks. At first, you had to walk out a bit to spot them, and then look down—and there they were. Thankfully, they had binoculars available, and through them, we could clearly see these incredible markings etched into the stone. The drawings were thousands of years old. It was humbling to stand there and realize that someone, long before us, had left their mark on that very same landscape., we toured the Petrified Forest. One tree had fallen over a gully, had been preserved by time and supported by cement to keep it from collapsing. It was mesmerizing to see something so ancient, frozen in stone.

Back in Holbrook, after dinner, we stumbled across a powwow at the Navajo County Historical Society. It felt like fate. A storyteller shared the meaning behind each of the traditional dances. One was the healing dance—originally performed for a little girl who had become very sick. Her grandfather had a dream, a dilya (which means “movement”), and the next day the village women danced in a circle while carrying her. On the third round, the girl was able to walk again.

Later, they invited the audience to join in the friendship dance. Janet and I couldn’t resist. I followed a little girl who reassured me I didn’t need to do it exactly like her—just to try. I told her I wanted to learn, so I gave it my all. It was pure joy.

We met a local family that evening—Jeremy, a lifelong Holbrook resident, showed us his tattoos dedicated to the town and Route 66. He and his wife are planning to open a museum in an old barbershop owned by his Father, featuring her lifelong collection of miniature lunch boxes, just in time for next year’s centennial. Their little toddler, Indiana, couldn’t stop dancing. He had rhythm in his bones! He even dragged his dad out to dance with him, and though dad came back beet red from embarrassment, you could tell they both loved Then Indiana convinced his mom to dance too. It was such a sweet moment—so real, so full of love and laughter.