Hmmm, balloons are floating overhead; that must be a signal to get in the car and race to the Grand Canyon. Sounds good to me, and so better late than never we spontaneously pack a bag and start the drive the north.

These are the Navajo Bridges in northern Arizona. The bridge on the right was opened for traffic in 1929, and for many years, it was adequate to serve the purpose of crossing the Colorado River. As time went by, vehicles became wider, and although pedestrian traffic was forbidden on the original bridge, the temptation to stand over the middle of the Colorado and look into the canyon was too appealing. So in 1995, a second, almost identical-looking wider bridge was opened (on the left), and the old one was relegated to being a purely pedestrian bridge.

This is Balanced Rock on the way to Lees Ferry at the northeastern corner of the Grand Canyon National Park.

Lees Ferry is Mile Marker 0 in the Grand Canyon. It is here that white water rafting trips get underway. Caroline is standing in the confluence of the muddy Paria River where it’s entering the cold green waters of the Colorado right behind her. This is also the first rapid boaters encounter on their journey into the extraordinary world of the Grand Canyon.

The view from the North Rim of the Grand Canyon is roughly 1,500 feet above the other side. Funny how it’s “just” 23.9 miles to hike across the canyon and over 200 miles to drive from side to side.

It’s nearly impossible to see her in the pic but Caroline with her hands in the air standing over the hole in the rock. We were both out there a few earlier trying to grab a selfie from over our heads so I could show you how narrow the rock is that she’s standing on, but that didn’t work out.

Had to stop and teach Caroline about Fredonia, not this one in Arizona, as much as the fictional Freedonia referred to by the Marx Brothers in their 1933 movie titled Duck Soup. My introduction begins with the song “Hail Hail Freedonia,” followed by a bunch of mumbling to the tune that rings in my head nearly 30 years after I first saw this movie.

Well, this was unexpected to find in the state of Utah and begs the question, “Just who are the hos that make these pies, and are they Mormon?” Should you think you, too, would like to try some Ho-Made Pies, you’ll find them in Mount Carmel Junction, where the road turns off to Zion National Park.

We made it another 160 miles past this to Torrey, Utah, to spend the night at Austin’s Chuckwagon Motel.