First was driving east after college to Philadelphia. Then west, helping Marc move to the LA area for a plane ticket back. Third with Mme Awesome when we moved to the Bay Area. All of them on I 40, all never stopping at Petrified Forest National Park. Sometimes so dark only the tantalizing signs were visible. Even yesterday, the facts are we drove by again, as we stayed on the west side.

This morning we left for that which has not been seen. Quick stop to refuel, during which I heard something which sounded like the tank was overflowing. Not good. Turns out the gentleman on the other side of the pump didn’t want to walk inside to urinate. What an efficient use of time!

Last night we’d decided to walk Devil’s Playground Loop. The drive was on dirt roads conspiciously needing maintenance, and, upon “arrival,” there was no trail or trailhead to be found. Plenty of stunning petrified wood and vistas though.

A stunning vista.

We did roam a bit, had a wonderful picnic, and then drove around the park, stopping often to walk around.

For instance…

Hello!

We agreed over dinner the park was like Death Valley: you walk. Meaning we were at the trailhead and the route had no reliable and repetitive physical markers.