I'd only been to Arizona one time previously, going east-west across the state following the old path of Route 66. Today, it was now time to leave Phoenix and head north towards the tourist town of Sedona.

We weren't very far outside Phoenix before I was moved to taking pictures of the roadside scenery; where it was even remarkable enough for Clarkson to pass his phone over for a few record pictures as well.

Continuing to climb upwards into the arid hills, I laughed at those initial pictures as we approached Sedona and gorgeous hills closed in on the mountain village. We got out of the car to buy postcards and gifts from the tourist shops, finding something to do to further appreciate this setting.

I know a few people who've come to Sedona and spent the greater part of a vacation just in this town. Admittedly, it felt like a disservice to simply stay here for 30 minutes, but we also didn't have the time or plans to hike any of the surrounding spectacular trail network.

Then again I don't know about us hiking here, because while stopping at the Bell Rock parking lot, Clarkson wasn't going anywhere off of the parking lot. It might've been a long hike with terror at each rustling shrub, haha.

Leaving Sedona, I started to crunch the numbers in regards to how far we were away from the Grand Canyon. Eventually it became clear that if we kept up our pace we should arrive right around sunset.

Sure enough, I had to laugh at how I've now visited the Grand Canyon twice at sunset. It was again incredible.

Without accommodations booked for tonight, we passed the 7 Mile Lodge that I laughed at because of Detroit connections, but I insisted we go east and find another motel, since one in Grand Canyon Village must be pricey.

This was a total mistake. Heading east brought us to parts of the Grand Canyon I'd never seen before, but it was a long hour's drive in near darkness with no settlements. Finally reaching a T-intersection at Arizona Highway 89, there didn't look to be much heading south until Flagstaff. Not wanting to backtrack to that extent, I had high hopes for the town of Cameron, but found their sprawling motel all booked up.

Thirty minutes north was Tuba City, a town I'd heard of before, but all three of their hotels were booked solid. The one proprietor told me we'd have to go 70 miles north to Page at this hour, which wasn't welcome news for two weary travellers.

Listening to podcasts to stay awake, we made it to Page where we finally had some WiFi to look around at the motel options. Sadly, the old school motel was shuttered for the night or they weren't answering their front door. Exhausted, we turned around out of downtown Page towards some chain motel, which was also booked solid, but the guy had done the legwork to find out the last rooms available in town. Apparently the sights around here have become so popular because of Instagram and Snapchat that they've built three brand new, multi-story chain hotels just in the past year and there were plans for two more in 2018.

Regardless of how interesting this was, we were both tired and more interested in which hotel had rooms available. As you can imagine, of course it was the fancy chain with its suites, not single bed, budget rooms.

So Clarkson & I stayed in the most expensive hotel room either of us had ever paid for...for all of 10 hours total. If you go to Page, I recommend you book ahead or just plan on not spending the night.

By the way, the 7 Mile Lodge? It isn't expensive and all the reviews talk of its value.

Waking up and casually grabbing breakfast at Jack In The Box, our luck was about to change as we set off to visit Antelope Canyon.

It's right in Page that you line up for the tours and strolling over there, we weren't really thinking about why everyone was here in Page, but we clearly we should have been. The parking lot was a sea of vehicles with people huddled underneath tent structures and gathering their belongings. We hurriedly parked and confusedly found out we were supposed to buy a ticket, where then the Navajo tribe members had a little discussion and determined that they could squeeze us into the 10am trip. How fortuitous! As we walked away, I felt bad for the group behind us who learned they had to wait for 1pm. Boy would that have derailed our day.

We were soon whisked away by our guide to his waiting pick-up truck, one of nine trucks in a convoy each carrying 14 people. Two people could sit up front with our guide, and while one of the other tourists was a bit of a kook, our tour guide - seen in the black shirt above - was a cool, no nonsense guy that also manipulated the convoy to get the perfect spot in line. He explained that this now meant we'd be heading through the main chamber just as the midday rays shined down through the narrow, slot canyon. Nice.

Antelope Canyon is a slot canyon created by rainwater and flash flooding wearing down the Navajo Sandstone here. It's located on Navajo land and with the formation of a tribal park here in 1997, you now have to have a native tour guide to visit.

There are online commenters who post nostalgically about quiet visits to this place in the 80s and 90s, while nowadays it may be one of the worst examples of internet-affected life. With 18 tours selling out every day, tourism is booming here and the Navajo try to whisk as many people as possible through this canyon. Forming a single-file line, our guide and all the other guides stop their groups at each notable feature, pointing out the classic pictures to take and even helping tourists with individual camera settings.

Some European guy on our tour knew absolutely nothing about his point & shoot camera, and by the fourth time asking our tour guide for help with settings, was firmly told, "listen, I've shown you four times already, I have to lead this tour. I can't just attend to you." I was greatly amused at how much this annoyed Clarkson. And then there was also an Asian guy who'd say "oh, wow, oooooh" to everything the guide was telling us; again irritating Clarkson, much to my delight.

I didn't need a hand with my camera settings, but I could have used a tripod. Although after already paying $40USD each for this tour, we weren't going to pay even more for the photographer's version that allowed such devices.

Afterwards, Clarkson told me how excited he was to see my pictures in 2 years, but I was mostly taking casual shots that showed the number of people. I didn't have the right gear or skills, and instead spent most of my time laughing at the hilarious experience. In addition, I'm going to try much harder to take a great picture of something rarely documented, like an old convenience store in remote Newfoundland, than some place where 2500 people take 200 pictures daily.

So, there you go Clarkson. Sorry these pictures aren't that remarkable.

As much as it sucks ass to walk single-file through a narrow canyon with people bumping and rushing you, Antelope Canyon is just about as beautiful as it appears in pictures. Of course it's not the empty, gorgeous light-entering magical space you see from pictures on the photography tours, but it's still worthwhile.

That being said, I'm such a fan of solitude and obscurity that I'd be tempted to research a different slot canyon if I found myself in this area again. I know the other canyons require hiking in and aren't as impressive, but it would be worth it for me.

Throughout the whole tour, our guide was working the clock because he knew exactly when "those light beams" come into the main chamber to create that one picture everyone takes and knows from Upper Antelope Canyon.

As much as I'm making fun of this whole charade, it was really special that our tour guide rushed us into this chamber, helped people with their camera settings & even encouraged people to move towards the front or towards the back. Of course he threw sand up in the air to make the light beams stand out more, which was funny as 15 people then rushed to snap their cell phones and point and shoots at the scene.

Afterwards, walking the 3 minute walk back to the truck, it was near the canyon entrance that a couple that was on our tour, who were taking plenty of their own corny pictures, asked Clarkson if he could take their picture. They then stood side by side and the girl suddenly grabbed her man's left arm, hoisted herself up on his thigh and they outstretched their non-connecting arms in a gymnastics pose like at the end of a performance. Coming back over, I asked Clarkson if we're using my thigh or his to take the same picture.

Leaving Antelope Canyon, we headed to the short trail for nearby Horseshoe Bend, which we almost skipped due to my newfound fear of walking in the heat of the American Southwest.

It was about 20 degrees cooler up here than in Phoenix though, and the bigger worry was the unrelenting sun on my pasty skin. As we passed three separate girls-in-floppy-hats-with-professional-photographers, we finally reached a peaceful cliff edge and found the short walk was more than worth it. Even with a couple hundred people out here, there was enough space to get away and enjoy this spectacular bend in the Colorado River.

I make fun of all these people dressed up and out here portraying a life for social media, but when I got home, the very next day I opened Snapchat and saw just how basic Clarkson & I really are - and shit, we didn't even ride horses AND we were too soft to camp out in the desert. Bah!

Leaving Page, we had an hour's drive to Monument Valley and the end of Arizona for us. Along the way I spotted this old windmill, sandy hills and MSK graffiti. I had to stop.

Clarkson was having no part of going over and checking those old water troughs for snakes.

Monument Valley is a wide, sprawling expanse dotted with buttes, made famous by Forrest Gump and Easy Rider, but also often used as the stereotypical scenery of the American Southwest.

After leaving the nearby village of Kayenta with grocery store snacks and gasoline, we didn't realize how quickly the road would dip and provide that stereotypical view over Monument Valley. Thankfully there was another smaller dip ahead and the whole area was gorgeous overall, but I might've taken a picture back near Kayenta if I had known.

There were also pleasant views to the north, but the afternoon sun wasn't doing us any favours. I fantasized about what this area must look like at sunset, but we had to keep moving.

Speaking of moving and destinations, there's obviously a lot of varying routes between Phoenix and Denver. We didn't choose the Google Maps, interstate-laden route, but I also think some people might've picked the route through Utah with Bryce Canyon, Canyonlands and Zion National Park. The only thing is that I wanted to see more of Colorado and I'd already drove from Salt Lake City to Denver in the past; therefore we went with the Colorado cross-cutting route instead. We didn't have enough time for all of those Utah National Parks anyway.

From Monument Valley, we were relatively close to the four corners of Arizona, Utah, New Mexico & Colorado. I'd always wondered why so many people seem to stop at the four corners site, but we just happened to pass it by chance. It would seem that's how people end up at what should be just a geography nerd's attraction.

With the evening upon us and our highway cutting from Utah into Colorado, I looked at the GPS and suggested staying in the nearby town of Shiprock New Mexico, which would get Clarkson another new state on this trip. Heading 20 minutes south into The Land of Enchantment, Shiprock was a forlorn reservation town which seemed to only house fast food options and zero motels. It was an interesting place for Clarkson to check his previous notion of New Mexico, but it wasn't going to provide us anywhere to stay.

(There are people in Shiprock doing great things to make their community better. Obviously things can look rough in distant, bleak places when you have a couple of dudes not used to New Mexico's windswept landscapes. My friend Yaz later actually told me he quite liked Shiprock on his visit.)

After last night's fiasco of finding a motel in Arizona, we decided against backtracking further towards Farmington New Mexico and instead headed back into denser Colorado.

We wouldn't even need to go past the first county, as the seat of Montezuma County at Cortez had about 10 motels for its population of 9000. Clarkson had recently encountered bedbugs on some random trip and was now much more weary of older motels, but even as he lusted after the Days Inn and Best Western, I was able to convince him the Sand Canyon National 9 Inn was the way to go.

I don't like bedbugs either, but I'm not going to stop staying at awesome old motels. That's like giving up meat because of the occasional hard piece of cartilage, or giving up hiking on the Northern Peninsula because of the occasional polar bear.

Scouting out motels when we first arrived in town, I noticed the Cork N Bottle and knew where we needed to go for our liquor needs.

Turning the rickety lock to our motel room, we headed up the road and soon realized that the neon sign was even more awesome at night. Clarkson was smart enough to take video of this, while I always forget that you can take video instead of still pictures.

Things were surprisingly sleepy for a town of this size. For dinner we decided on some country pub that looked alright, but they had awful draft choices, were missing key food items, didn't pay attention to their TVs and lastly, hosted an awful open mic night of dudes trying to coo out country or grunt Metallica.

The two of us both wanted to wash the awful taste of that place out of our mouths, but by the time we left everything else in Cortez was closed or closing. Back at the motel room, it was the first place I'd ever encountered Netflix, which was a fun novelty for someone who'd never personally used such a thing.

Cortez redeemed itself in the morning at the El Grande Cafe, an unfussy breakfast spot that was solid. I had my omelette smothered in green chile and I was happy.

Following breakfast, it was time to head deeper into Colorado.

Continue to Part 5...