UTAH - Canyonlands Motel

Just as the dark of night had set in, I'd arrived at the Canyonlands Motel in Mexican Hat, Utah. This is a place that I had jotted down in my travel journal (on recommendation from another rider) as a cheap and clean place to bed down for the night. Absolutely nothing fancy, but for $40.00 cash, it would be convenient and efficient. Earlier in the day, I had taken measures to ensure (since it was Easter) that someone would be around to welcome me: While having Easter dinner at Burger King in New Mexico, a phone call was placed to let the owner know that if all went as planned I would arrive around nightfall.

The empty gravel parking lot, quickly made it obvious, that my worry of the spartan motel being booked up, was not at all warranted. And the solitary Navajo woman who owned the place had no plans of going anywhere or closing the office. The ST and I had the place to ourselves.



The owner's name is Juanita. She is a 60-year old Navajo Indian; she is originally from Bluff, Utah - which is just down the road. She grew up with the native Navajo tongue as her first language, which her slight accent clearly gave away.

She was different from the majority of the Native Americans that I've come across. Instead of a somber and downtrodden demeanor, she was thin, energetic and projected a strong sense of positivity. I pointed this out to her, which then, in-turn, prompted a heart-to-heart discussion.

She acknowledged the defeated and emotionless spirit of so many of her nation. Even replicating this with an exaggerated expression of depression: Slouched, head hung, and a frown.

She explained how her own father never had anything good to say. Either to her, or her siblings. He was an alcoholic. Her sisters were oppressed and not very happy. This deeply saddened her inside. She said that her sisters had been molested or raped by their step-father. Now that they are adults, over the years, she has tried to elevate their spirit and talk about deeply-rooted issues from their past - in order to face and overcome the demons - instead of turning to drugs, or alcohol, or self-deception - but they have no interest or lack the motivation (strength) in doing so. That is hard for her to accept.

Despite all of this, she refuses to succumb to a negative mind-set. She focused on introspection and a healthier lifestyle; she became cautious of what she ate and began exercising regularly. She refuses the victim mentality.

During the course of the conversation, I'd shared some similar struggles of my own life's journey. We agreed that truth, total awareness, and wisdom are things to continually pursue - until the last breath is taken.

In lighter discussion, she was curious about where I'd ridden, and where I was heading. When I mentioned that I was excited about the opportunity of riding through Monument Valley the very next day, she pointed out that her motel sign, at the edge of the road, had the classic Monument Valley scene on it, and that the specific location was "Gump Hill" - which is the place that Forest Gump had ended his monumental run. Interesting. I'd watched the movie so many years ago and remember when he spontaneously decided to quit running, but never paid attention to the location, being so absorbed by the man's psyche.