The Edge of the World
Our first days on the road, just north of Sedona
And we’re off! We left Taylor’s mom Terry’s house on Thursday morning and drove straight up to Sedona, a magical place where we’ve spent some precious time and hiked some breathtaking routes before. Since it’s not too far from Terry’s home in Scottsdale — a spot we try to visit at least once a year — we decided not to spend much time in Sedona proper, but drove 20 minutes north to Slide Rock State Park.
Taylor had been here as a young child, but it was my first time, and we had a blast jumping into the icy creek and trying out the natural rock slides for ourselves. While we watched little kids bobbing joyfully down the slides, we learned quickly that for adults (and maybe because the water was lower than usual…yes, let’s blame it on that) the experience was less of a slide and more of an ungraceful butt-scoot. Nonetheless, the red rocks + icy water + stunning vistas made for the perfect first excursion of our road trip.
From Slide Rock, we drove another 20 minutes north out of the canyon, then turned on to a dusty forest service road. This was our first real opportunity to off-road, and we were both a little giddy to try it out. As soon as we turned onto the dirt road, we pulled over to air down our tires and turned the truck into four wheel drive.
We followed the service road through towering pines and wide prairies used for cattle grazing, carefully navigating rutted out spots and giant rocks, knowing that it eventually led to a spot known as The Edge of the World. This area of the Coconino National Forest allows for dispersed camping (i.e., no amenities, just permission to camp anywhere within 300 feet of a service road). After bumping along for about an hour, we finally saw a few other trucks and trailers and glimpsed a view of the rim.
We found a spot that looked fairly level (which is important with the tent on top of the truck) and set up camp. It was such a stunning campsite that we ended up staying for three nights, cooking meals as we watched the sunset, watching tiny lizards scuttle through camp, and reading in a hammock slung between the pines.
On Saturday, we decided to walk down the service road just to check it out, and we ran into another camper who mentioned that there was a fire observation tower and excellent lookout point about a mile further down the road.
As we approached the observation tower, we met the ranger stationed on-site: a 38-year veteran of the national forest service who spends 5 1/2 months of the year posted in the observation tower. She told us a little bit about her gig and gave us recommendations of where to find the best views a little further down the trail. Even then, we had no idea the incredible vistas that were in store for us.
We pulled out our camp chairs and sat a while, taking in the views, spying Slide Rock State Park far in the canyon below, and watching turkey vultures swoop gracefully on the air currents.
We also stumbled across the tiniest, chunkiest little lizard, which we later learned was a greater short-horned lizard — one of the only reptiles that gives live birth, also is capable of shooting blood from its eyes to discourage predators. Eek! Thankfully it did neither of these things while we were present, and I even got to pet its little belly.
We returned to camp in awe, very grateful to have found this dispersed camping site and to have stumbled on the unexpected hike and views. Knowing that this would be our last night at the spot before heading north, we made a cairn in remembrance of our dads at a secluded lookout point near camp, sprinkled a bit of both of their ashes into the cool night air, shared a sip of bourbon, and talked about how much they would have loved this trip.
We miss them so much and have been thinking about them a lot lately as we make our trip plans, gather our gear, and decide how we want to spend this precious life together. I think we would be doing them both proud.
I'm so happy you both are doing this trip and honoring your dads in this way. What a beautiful way to honor them. May their memories bring you comfort and strength.