 As we headed toward Monument Valley, we began to feel like we were approaching a sort of destiny, as if we were on a mission and we were about to discover the reason for it. It was a great day for driving, and so far a great day in general. As the scenery changed yet again, we began to see some of the stone towers scattered throughout the landscape. They looked completely out of place rising up from the sagebrush plains and Indian ghettos, but at the same time they were ultimately confident of their majesty and their dominance over everything else in sight.
We passed another stateline, this time into Utah, but we were only there for a few miles when the road turned back into Arizona. We stopped at a trading post on the entrance road to Monument Valley. As soon as we got out of the car, our feet were buried in fine red dust with the consistency of talcum powder. Jason found a bracelet he liked but was running low on funds. The junkie type in charge of the stall wouldn't bargain so we left it... Jason wondered if the dude would consider a trade but we didn't pursue it.
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 On into Monument Valley. It was about 4:30 pm when we got there. There were signs reading "Caution Rough Road" and "4-Wheel Drive Jeep Tours Available". We were wondering what we'd gotten into: this was a definite change from the nice national park roads we'd become used to. But the monuments stood beckoning to us, like lonesome gods in the distance, keeping watch over their valley, so we took the plunge.
Feels like a dream... got me hypnotized 
The monuments were amazing: how was it possible for perfect right and left hand shapes to form by themselves? Hundreds of feet tall and in perfect proportions, all of the formations felt magical and it was easy to see why this was the Valley of the Gods.
The road was something else... It wasn't simply a dirt road, it was a motocross. There were ruts, ridges, rocks and drops. The parts of it that were dirt were that same fine red powder. At times it felt like the car had lost all contact with solid ground and it felt more like driving a boat. That was ok -- Barbara had undergone another metamorphosis: now the Fire Goddess had become Road Warrior. We drove along, stopping and starting to view the pieces, trying to interpret their names, and checking out cars ahead of us to figure out the best way to navigate the road at each particular point. But it was late, and there weren't too many other cars there and most of them were trucks or jeeps.
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