Monument Valley is first and foremost a sacred place for the Navajo people– its Navajo name is: Tsé Biiʼ Ndzisgaii, meaning “Valley of the Rocks.” It is also a site that has been subject of some of the most famous historical photos of the American Southwest, and has played backdrop for Western films over the years. Even ‘Forrest Gump’ filmed there.
Thus, Monument Valley feels like a contradiction at times– both sacred and commercial, it at-once hosts native people coming to practice sacred rites, and hosts tourists who come to capture that perfect Instagram photo (typically without leaving the balcony of the visitor’s center).
That contradiction is on display immediately, as driving into the valley, the ‘Forrest Gump’ vista is one of the first photo opportunities– the silhouettes of the massive sandstone buttes stretch across the valley, a horizon the highway picturesquely points to.
While it’s a cheesy spot to take a picture (for you movie buffs, this is apparently where Forrest decides to stop running)– but this introduction to the valley can’t help but set your attention on the otherworldly presence of the stones that will dominate your imagination for days.
I arrived in evening, and sought out a campsite that was far from the hustle and bustle. Though Monument Valley is remote enough to require a dedicated drive from anywhere, there are some hyper-commercialized aspects close to it (old-school motels, KOA RV sites, souvenir stands galore, etc).
The Sleeping Bear campground was just as its name implied– sleepy. Navajo-owned (always a good idea to look for Navajo-owned and operated businesses in this area), this cash-only campground was casual and chill. Each night around 8 or 9 PM, they came around to collect fees– with only 1-2 other campers, it was stone quiet, which was fitting for such a wild place.
Plus, the campsite was just beautiful– unpaved, un-messed with, and offered plenty to behold.
Waking up to this view as the sun moved across the red rocks was a silent thrill. I made breakfast each morning and watched the sun rise, first illuminating the rocks– then causing the bright-orange glow that created an optical illusion that could easily lead a viewer to believe the heat and energy sprung magically from within the rocks themselves.
THIS glow is what Monument Valley is famous for– and what other grand sites featuring iron-oxide-rich red rocks across the world– such as Uluru in Australia– are also renowned for. If you can’t get to Australia to see its famous ‘red centre’– having been to both, I’d say this was a very close cousin.
And as amazing as this view was, we were still outside of the actual Monument Valley area.
Monument Valley is not part of the National Park system– it’s Navajo land, and is managed entirely by the tribe. Thereby, your national park pass will not work here, so you’ll need to pay a nominal fee to enter each day. The entry fee gives you access to a 17-mile loop on a dirt road that snakes around some of the biggest features of the park– notably, it does NOT take you close to many of the most sacred rocks.
For good reason. They are sacred to the tribes. (That said, if you are willing to set out on foot, you can take a 4-mile walk on a park-sanctioned hiking trail that gets you much closer to these epic rocks in a way that does not . But more on that later).
Entering the park just after dawn is key– and while that requires a rather insane wake-up time, it’s worth it– the park’s rocks are very sensitive to the light in the sky– and the color will be most spectacular in early morning and later evening, when the sun is low in the sky.
Honestly, the sun’s position matters so much to the photogenic nature of the area, that I often exited the park area between the hours of about 10:30 AM and 5:30 PM, and returned at sunset. Not only is that timeframe generally the hottest (and my god, this area gets hot)– but the light flattens on the formations, and they fade to a duller brown in mid-day.
Mac and I threw the van into 4×4 mode, and descended into the valley. The size and scale of the rocks was astonishing– despite seeing photographs of this place my whole life, I was still underprepared for the way the rocks dwarfed me AND the van.
(Poor Mac often had to provide “scale” for photos I was taking– and you’ll see by his facial expression in most, that he’s not particularly happy with that role that I assigned him). Another handy way to get a sense of the wide scale is to find a tree in the frame– note how the rocks make the trees look like mere, tiny shrubs!
The road is absolutely a dirt road– no paving within the actual 17-mile loop, so you will have to have a high-clearance or 4-wheel drive vehicle to proceed. Loads of tourists took paid rides in trucks and Jeeps from the visitors center, but let me assure you, this is something you will want to self-pace.
The very tallest monoliths reach up to 1,000 feet above the valley floor– creating drama at every turn. While craning your neck looking upward, don’t forget to peer down– the most beautiful desert flowers can spring from the dirt in unexpected ways.
The road was largely flat, but had some deeper tire treads in areas from mud that solidified after drivers went over the road in the rain. And while it was pretty dry in June, I can imagine that in the rainy months, you would want to be super-careful about getting stuck, and potentially bring some treads to help you get un-stuck just in case.
One thing I didn’t expect to see? A couple of stray dogs… um… enjoying the scenery together, at one of the most beautiful scenic overlooks within the park. (Just goes to show you that it’s not all gorgeous views when living in a van– LOL).
The three biggest monoliths are the most sacred ones– they also tend to bear tourist-ready names for visitors– the one pictured below is often called “The East Mitten”. Still others around the park have names such as “the Totem Pole” or “3 Sisters” to help you locate them on the map as points of interest.
But as I mentioned earlier, most of these views are distant– so there’s only one way to see these rocks from close-up on the valley floor: hiking.
The roughly-4-mile hike I chose was The Wildcat Trail– as it was one of the only ways to see the “Left Mitten” rock formation more closely, and actually beats a path around it– so you can view it from each angle, which was spectacular. The hike itself was fairly easy but was incredibly exposed– there was not a lick of shade on the loop, so plan accordingly.
The “Left Mitten” (no, not Katy Perry’s ‘Left Shark’) was far more featured than it appeared from a distance, with nooks and crooks that made each towering piece of the sandstone feel like it had its own personality. The sun struck each at such a varied angle as the clouds passed, the Mitten seemed ever-changing and vibrant: the way the clouds dotted the sky on this day made the light playful.
While the hike was not strenuous, there was a section to climb through deep sand that FELT quite steep, even though it was not technically so. The sand, combined with the heat and lack of cover several miles in, sapped energy quickly. Other than that, this was a flat and easy loop hike– which made it all the more astonishing that I ran into only 2-4 fellow hikers, while the visitor center parking lot contained hundreds and hundreds of cars (!!!).
The visitors center contained a small exhibit on the Navajo Code Talkers that you shouldn’t miss– celebrating the Dine (De-NAY) people for their contributions to the effort during World War 2. As the sign below stated, the Navajo code was the only code in military history never to be broken by enemy combatants– a truly amazing fact.
The artifacts in the museum– which included archival photographs, and personal testimonies– were wonderful reminders of the ‘try anything’ approach the military employed at this late stage in the Pacific war. The original idea was welcomed out of desperation, and 29 recruits were brought in for a test– and, finding the code successful, other platoons were then recruited and called to serve.
The Code Talkers exhibit was slim, but worthy of attention and solemn reflection, perhaps while you wait for the famed ‘postcard’ view from the visitors center to turn bright red at sunset.
Mac was sleepy after our hike, and as we waited for the sun to drop further in the sky– he posed like the Very Majestic Boy that he was (on portrait mode). Tired but content, he studied the horizon.
The below two pictures show the change that comes over the rocks as the sun set from that ‘postcard’ ridge– the surreal change did seem to emerge from within the rock, radiating outward. The bright-orange glow came gradually, reddened, and then became a softening purple at deeper dusk.
Of course, the ‘postcard’ view area was crowded, but if you find the area too busy– walk to the left about 500 to 1,000 feet. A short way from the ‘balcony’ lookout wall, not many steps required to get some silence and serenity, tucked away from the selfies.
My time at Monument Valley was quiet, magical, and serene, thanks to my hidden-gem campsite, my decision to hike, as well as choosing to drive the scenic drive ONLY during the early morning or evening hours. This remote, but well-visited area is a marvel to witness– and it can offer peace, if one is willing to work just a little for it.
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