"I've been to Colorado where the mountains touch the sky...." 333 miles

"So waddya think of Blair?" said the thick set guy with the faded teeshirt and baseball cap, occupying the corner seat at the bar. (Thinks: "he looks like he is perhaps a Republican...."). Back to Doug in a moment.

Set off from Cortez and I realised that I had crossed a timezone so was now only 7 hours behind the UK. Drove up into the San Juan Mountains - part of the Rockies. The scenery changed from hot and dry to lush green with spruce pine, waterfalls, rivers and snow capped peaks. A DJ called "Cheeky Monkey" on KOTO in Telluride had a caller on asking for volunteers to help remove a fallen tree from a creek, "It could be kinda fun". In Montrose some hours later, another DJ (I think he may have been on KPAW: The Bear), was talking about "the big chili cook off" this weekend; away from the major cities you make your own entertainment.

A few hours later I was down the other side in the heat of Canon City sitting in a bar with one other customer.....Doug.

"Tony Blair?...well erm....fudgety fudge fudge fudge...erm good and er not so good....fudgety....(Don't mention the war)...erm WMD (damn too late you fool)....45 minutes erm not sure about the erm intelligence...fudge fudge....however Saddam Hussein didn't seem like he was a very nice man....erm fudgety"

Doug: "That French guy was a bad man too!"


Me: (Brain: Skkreeeeee... halt!.) You honestly can't believe that Jaques Chirac was as bad as Saddam Hussein just because he disagreed with the US??? Think of it this way you two are very similar: No one tells the Americans what to do...the French do what they like as well. On this occasion you disagreed. The French were on your side against us in the War of Independence!! "


Not sure Doug was entirely convinced, but he did buy me a drink which was kind of him.

Staggered, several hours later, back to my room and at 06:30 all hell broke loose. A spectacularly loud noise rent the air and made the walls shake. I had failed to spot a sign on the back of the door which read "A railroad runs the entire length of Canon City...the law says the train must sound its whistle at every road crossing...we can do nothing about it and we apologise for any inconvenience. I had heard that lonesome whistle blow!

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"Along the Navajo trail..." 366 miles

Double whammy! this is turning into a proper America trip. Set off about 9am and drove up to the south rim of the Grand Canyon.

Impressive, but somehow having seen so many photos and with all the amazing scenery I have seen so far on this trip, it didn't overwhelm me as I expected it to.

Headed for Monument Valley; the one "must see" on this trip. To get there I drove through the arid Navajo Indian reservation with its lay bys filled with stalls selling genuine pottery and jewellery. I had promised a friend I would get her a necklace.

At a Grand Canyon official gift shop amongst the dream catchers and the like I spotted a sign: "All our products American made" The the rack I was looking at had a small sign which read: "Indian American products not made by Indian Americans"!

That is why I turned into a lay by which had the sign "Nice Indians". They were selling arrows, mind you. The young woman who sold me the item said she had made it herself although she was a bit hazy as to what it was made from. Seeing the grinding poverty I felt better about buying it from her rather than the park gift shop. National parks are not free: Yosemite and Sequoia cost me $20 a piece. Grand Canyon, secure in its reputation, asks you to stump up $25.

Still only about 11.30 so I decided I would go for Monument Valley today as well. This to me was worth the price of the ticket alone. Something I had seen in Westerns ever since I was a child. I was a rider on the range. Only downside was they had just tarred the road so when I stepped out to take a photo the feet got stuck.

Then at a nearby petrol station one of the many native American hustlers tried to sell me a moccasin....ONE? Maybe be I had strayed into Hopi territory. Navajo, Blackfeet, Hopi....maybe I should Sioux. (Sorry I was on a tribal roll there).

I wanted to get from Arizona to Colorado even though the route strayed into Utah and Mormon territory. Not a lot of "down drinking at the bar" thereabouts. Headed up through Mexican Hat which boasted a number of motels with bars attached. I have learned to distrust neon signs. Everyone loves their neon, so what you think is a bar turns out to be an estate agent, a church or maybe a nail clinic.

Ute mountain took me to Cortez and a few drinks and another burrito this time in "Blondie's Pub and Grub" - a biker bar with lots of Hulk Hogan lookalikes on Harleys. Although it does have a website if you want to go find it. The nice woman who served me was anything but blonde...she may not have been the owner.

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