Sedona might have the largest amount of beauty and wow per square mile of any place I have ever visited. At one point at a very welcome respite spot, I sat and caught my Floridan breath and watched the full moon about to set, three colorful hot air balloons blasting fire as they rose at first light, a multitude of colossal red stone outcroppings that rose from the valley floor like mighty castles, and an Arizona sunrise raging against the eastern sky. If I wasn’t there to take it all in, I’d have a hard time believing that all of that could possibly be happening at once in the same location.
If you’ve ever heard anyone who has been to Sedona speak about it, it is always with this wonder and gratitude for having gotten the opportunity to be there. For the longest time, I understood that it was a “magical” and a “special” place, as those are the most common descriptors used, but I truly had no context for what that meant for me. I mean, I feel as though I have been to some wondrous places (yes, I’m talking about you Crater Lake), but the way you can actually watch this bit of sparkle ignite in their eyes every time they would remember Sedona, you know that this is a place that must be experienced personally. I know that even me writing about Sedona with every bit of descriptive writing skill I have at my disposal will not truly do it justice. So, here’s what we’ll do: I’ll tell you all the reasons you should ensure you go to Sedona in your lifetime, and you plan on doing so. Deal? Deal.
My awareness of Sedona began years ago when a friend went and told me how special of a place it is. They aren’t the type to gush about something beyond its value, so when they say that this place is special, you know that it carries a weight and should be listened to. Since then, it has danced in and out of my periphery – a calling mixed with a promise of fulfillment. Little did I know that embedded within that promise would be the now unquenchable desire to return.
I entered Sedona from the North, and truly had no idea what to expect. Sometimes I dive into an area with a need to understand it. To have it all mapped out. To know the places to visit, the sights to see, and to have every bit of the trip known ahead of time. But as I turned South from Interstate 40 and drove into the Ponderosa Pine forest, I truly did not know to what expect.
Within short order, signs start to point out curves in the road ahead and mentions of Oak Creek Canyon. Being unaware that there would be a change in elevation (and being from Florida it’s very easy to forget that they even exist), I wasn’t quite prepared for the descent ahead. Afterwards, it’s pretty clear looking at the map:
The journey down was quick, but so was the change in atmosphere, climate, scenery – you name it. Honestly, it was the closest thing to walking through the wardrobe and into Narnia that I’ve experienced on the road. Within minutes I was traveling along Oak Creek and taking in the little houses and campgrounds under the trees (which are also different than the Pines above) on the canyon floor. The grey cliffs and stones of the canyon started to give way to bits of yellow and red in increasing percentages the further down the Creek I drove.
As the canyon finally gave way, the entrance to the valley was laid before me with sparks of wonder. Soaring red rocked buttes (tall somewhat flat-topped steep towers of rock) rose up out of the scrub covered hills and caught the low-angled sun of late afternoon with brilliant applause. Pulling over as quickly as I could, I stopped to step out of the car and to soak in all that my eyes and senses could take; knowing that my very spirit was collecting so much more.
Shortly after starting back down the road, I encountered the center of the commercial/tourist area of town and was quickly surrounded by traffic, construction, and an inundation of pink Jeeps (which are a local tourist experience). I’d say to avoid this part of town if you can, but, honestly, I don’t believe that’s an option as it truly is at the crossroads of the area. I did find that it was a much better area to traverse at 5 am, but we’ll get to that soon.
Everywhere you turn, beauty is above you. Rock formations climb towards the sky in all directions, and it can be difficult to even know where to turn towards to begin. The scenery causes you to even enjoy sitting in traffic and can cause a little bit of brief sadness when you must get back to focusing on the road ahead.
Dinner was at this amazing Latin-inspired restaurant called Mariposa that might have the best parking lot views I have ever witnessed in my life. I could have had hot dogs sitting in the grass outside and would have given this place 5 stars for that view alone. The food and the service was excellent though, and the place is thankfully outside of the congested city center. Highly recommend.
After what seemed like hours, the sun did finally slip beyond the horizon just before dinner, so by the time I emerged night had fully engulfed the valley. While the day had been beyond full (stories for another day), I was not ready to head back for sleep and thus made the decision to turn towards the darkness of the backroads far away from the city.
There was a bit of trepidation in my mind as I did this as I know next to nothing about the area, cell signal is widely erratic in Sedona (many people have many different reasons they’ll gladly tell you about as to why), and when I say it is dark, it truly is dark – no lights line these streets, and no traffic traverses them late at night. Pulling into a parking lot at a trail head, I worked way harder than I felt I should have needed to extinguish all of the lights in the rental car, but once I did…oh wow.
Strewn across the canopy of the sky above were more stars than I have ever witnessed before. I’ve been in Dark Sky zones before, such as outside Jackson, Wyoming, but it felt as though there were more cars and light pollution still coming from the nearby town there. Here, with a massive series of buttes between me and any sort of civilization, the majesty of billion-year-old lights above me truly had a theatre to show off. This alone would have made the journey here worth it. I will say though, that maybe this sky gazing excursion would have been better with someone else with me as the utter darkness and stillness of the valley can tend to cause your mind to wander into imaginations of all sorts of “wow, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen movies that have a scene like this that didn’t end well for the guy.”
My sleep that night was fantastic, though filled with eagerness for the next day to begin. A good hour before sunrise, I found myself in a city-run parking lot awaiting the first shuttle of the day to Cathedral Rock. The city of Sedona knows how popular of a place the valley is to hike and explore, but also recognizes that none of these locations can support parking lots large enough to handle the crowds. Thus, they came up with the great idea of providing shuttles that run every 15 minutes to all the most popular locations, free of charge. I loved it. The bus drivers were all extremely friendly and would tell you all about the locations, giving advice and free water along the way. Simply the best.
I had limited time on this Sedona visit, so I chose what many consider to be one of the best but challenging hikes, Cathedral Rock. This massive castle of an outcropping starts out slopping up, but quickly gets a bit aggressive, especially for someone who lives in Florida. While the enjoyment and challenge of the hike is one thing, the views are absolutely worth all the words that one can devote to them. It was on a ledge here that I stopped and drank in the full moon, the rising sun, and the hot air balloons as they all three danced about the sky celebrating this red rocked Garden of Eden below. My initial thought as I starred wide-eyed and awe-struck at the scene before me would be that I could never experience this mix of magic again, but when I described it to my friend who had been there before, she simply said: “SEDONA!”
Sitting on the shuttle on my way back from Cathedral Rock, I listened to the driver describe several other amazing hikes and I made note of them all. I truly wanted to set off on another, but my knee, which was not used to scaling buttes (I honestly don’t think my knee had even heard of them before), highly encouraged me to maybe not hike again for a bit. As I arrived back at the parking lot, I was truly grateful I woke up when I did; the line to get on the shuttle was easily a 100 people long. The people may have looked a bit more rested, but none of them seemed to be happy waiting in such a line.
Months later as I write these words, I know that I’m restraining myself. I see the word count rise and know that I can easily triple what I have so far and still feel like there is more to say about this magical place. I was only in the valley for such a short amount of time, but that valley is with me for all time now. Not just in memory, but in a yearning to return. So now I add my voice to that chorus of people who speak of Sedona with wonder and gratitude, but who also knows that you won’t be able to fully grasp any of what I described in ways that are truly meaningful until you too wander into that valley. I hope you do.
