Sedona Diary

Vortexing

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To celebrate a decennial birthday in the family, we decided to take a trip. Phoenix topped the list of places to go, with reasonable airfare.

But then, looking around for things to do, I learned Phoenix is sprawling humongous and it’s hot. Sure it’s a dry heat, but in full sun, it’s blistering. Fortunately, a good friend suggested Sedona, a place I’d heard of, but knew little about.

Only two hours out of Phoenix, it promised to be cooler, so I booked the trip, without knowing much else.

Booked and Packed

Look up things to do in Sedona and vortices rank high. What is a vortex? In West Texas, it’s a dust devil. Out in the Gulf of Mexico, it’s a waterspout. In Sedona, the vortices are, depending on who you ask, or what book in a coffee shop you browse waiting on an order, sources of renewal, energy, strength, inspiration, peace. Apparently, they’re not dust devils or waterspouts. Before we go any further, you must know we flew into Phoenix’s Skyharbor Airport. This is relevant b/c the airport touts itself as America’s Friendliest Airport. Since the train is automated and TSA is all business, hard to say why it’s the friendliest. But it was the first among embellishments.

Trigger warning out of the way, driving north out of Phoenix, it’s clear you’re in the desert as the rolling country is studded with sparse brush and cut by ravines, with dry creeks beds at the bottom. Saguaro stud the slopes, the local stand in for trees. Descending into the Verde Valley, a ribbon of green follows the path of the river. On to more brush covered slopes, absent the saguaro.

Then, the first glimpse of why people come to Sedona, as a stunning break in scenery, a colorful sheer cliff face, peaked from afar. It called to us, “Come see.”

And we did, entering the Sedona area, a place marked by buttes, mesas, pinnacles, all faced with vertical expanses of red rock striated by millions of years of layers. It’s drained by the small, meandering Oak Creek, an unpretentious thing.

Phoenix spreads out at something like 25 miles by 30, not counting Mesa. In contrast, the Sedona red rocks area is tiny, only about 10 by 10, and with far lesser numbers of people. Stand on high ground and you can see the entire area. In other words, fewer places to prospect for a vortex.

Sedona town spreads among uptown, down the creek and to the west, all of which have a view of the red rock faces. We stayed away from the shops selling crystals, even though those might have been the logical place to start.

We lucked out, as the woman who took our money to park on top of the mesa gave map-like advice, free of charge. “Head down the trail for six-tenths of a mile, where there’s a lookout over the valley. If you want to visit a vortex, go on along the loop trail another mile.”

So we did. The first part of the trail was rocky, forcing our attention down to watch our step for much of the way. We paused frequently to enjoy the view of Sedona West down below. We reached the intersection of trails and climbed to the lookout, a small bald expanse of red rock with an outsized view of Sedona downstream, not that we noticed, because we couldn’t take our eyes off the rocks in the background. We were beginning to get the vortex thing.

Bluest of blues against red ochres

We compared Vnotes with a couple from California. Like us, they knew little of actual locations, had heard all of Sedona was a vortex, yet were confused by seemingly conflicting info that certain places contained the Vs.

My sister and I had hiked to a rock bridge earlier, a formation well worth the trip. We found a line of people several dozen long, all waiting for a turn to go on top of the bridge for the iconic arms/legs-spread-wide-Instagram-look. Call me a critic, but surprisingly, no one did a yoga-like bridge pose on top of the bridge. Anyhow, lots of peeps, no Vs.

No Vortex, but a Large Hole

Which was a shame, because on the hike up to the bridge, some hikers could have used a V, weighed down by anxieties heavy enough to voice them on the trail in earshot of strangers. Not just any strangers, but a writer who takes notes.

Back to the loop trail, descending from the lookout, we encountered another hiker accompanied by a dog. She packed heavy enough for an overnight trip on a trail that looped only a few miles. Her long-haired dog hugged the speckled shade of a mesquite, lapping water from a bowl as if it hadn’t drunk in some time. It found its V in the bowl.

Continuing on, I wondered if the vortex was clockwise or counterclockwise. I guessed counter, solely because tropical storms, vortices of an extra large nature, so spin.

We came upon two hikers in the general area of where the parking lot guide had mentioned. When asked if they’d found the V, they swooned and said, “Yes,” spreading their arms out and up. With no sign of a V, they headed off the narrow trail up the slope.

Further along the trail, sure enough, I felt something. It was the culmination of the time with family, the drive in, the experience so far, the hike to the bridge, the hike from the parking lot. It was a stirred concoction of Wow, Joy, Bliss, This-Place-is-Stinkin’-Gorgeous-and-I’m-Lucky-to-Enjoy-It.

I suppose one can gain from a Sedona V by sitting still. That seems to me to be more of a hole. I took it for a spin.

(May have to click “Play” twice to start the video.)

All the Best,

Geoff

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