DAY ONE: Dispatch from north of Monument Valley: 7,200 feet MSL, speed 55 mph…
It’s too hot. My plan is shot to hell. Race 53 is hanging on her prop and she can’t climb any higher. Damn! It’s all I can do to stay in the air above the rugged desert. Below, in hues of red, pink, yellow, and cream the world is stone. Smooth stone, sharp stone, broken stone. Hills of stone. Crevasses of stone. Plains of stone. Rivers of stone.
It’s stunning. But there’s nowhere to land and I’m not high enough to cross the southern Rockies at Salina as planned.
Off course to my west, I spy a narrow V-shaped canyon between two lumbering peaks. It looks inviting, but it could be the terrestrial equivalent of a “sucker hole” in the clouds. [Read more…]