One and Done in Sedona

Friends in North Carolina suggested meeting up somewhere, with two criteria: the destination had to be both reachable via one flight and new to all of us. And that’s how we landed on Sedona, a two-hour drive north from Phoenix (with more roundabouts than you would think are possible).

We stayed at Enchantment Resort, where my first reaction was an eye roll at the speed limit. On the rare occasions I’ve seen one with a fraction, I’ve suspected that the goal is to make you notice it—and therefore be more likely to obey it.

Enchantment is about a 20-minute drive from downtown Sedona, tucked in a canyon to splendid effect. The setting is far and away the best thing about the place.

As a result, it’s a little wild. A herd of deer could often be seen wandering the grounds, and one night a couple of javelinas crossed the road in front of us.

Even more magical: hot air balloons on the horizon at dawn.

Arranged around a main lodge called the Clubhouse, the 218 guest rooms are generally (or maybe always) three to a casita. The numbering system is ass-backward: our casita was 9, but our room was 209, not 902. Someone must really despise four-digit room numbers.

Walking to and from the room was consistently delightful.

Our expectations were not super high, because the rate—with a fourth-night free offer—averaged $535 per night (including the $90 per day in fees and taxes). That’s a lot of money, but it doesn’t get you nearly as much in a hotel as it used to. While the Clubhouse was in decent shape, the rooms need updating. Is there a clearer sign than this that a renovation is overdue?

There were aspects to the hotel that we liked: turndown service, laundry facilities and water filling stations all over the property, and a market/café with friendly staff. But the check-in process is a mess (a pre-arrival email explaining the sitch would be a good idea); the Clubhouse has limited seating inside, for when the weather is cold (perhaps convert the huge private event space?); and the restaurants are OK at best, which stings when you’re far from town. Certainly, we didn’t get off on the right foot when we showed up at 6:41 p.m. for our 6:45 dinner reservation, only to be told to come back in four minutes. (“We’re seating on time this evening.”) We decided that Enchantment is probably too big to ever be exceptional, particularly with the fancier sister property across the way, a destination spa called Mii Amo, getting most of the attention these days.

But it was fine, and we weren’t in Sedona for the resort, or even the town. We were primarily there for the hiking, which was great. Take Devil’s Bridge, where you can walk out onto the stone span for a photo op.

“They’re so brave,” said the woman next to me about the three hikers below.

“I think it’s more a question of stupidity,” I replied, and then realized they were her friends.

As much as I loved Devil’s Bridge, the sheer number of hikers was overwhelming—State Street during a weekday is less busy. The trail to Subway Cave was better, and you can access it via the resort. (This is important because Sedona trailhead parking fills up early. The town runs a shuttle, if you’re into that kind of thing.) In the photo below, the ledge at right wraps around the cliff, leading to the ledge in the second photo.

As for the town of Sedona, it was developed late in the 20th century, and it doesn’t have the Old West core you find in many ski resorts. It comes off as a cross between a cruise ship port (fudge, crystals, art, etc.), and suburban sprawl (Chipotle, Cold Stone Creamery, Whole Foods, etc.). We ignored the New Age stuff for which the town is famous. As Stevie Wonder sang, “When you believe in things that you don’t understand, then you suffer”—unless, of course, you become secretary of the Department of Health and Human Services.

That said, I was pleased to see the Chapel of the Holy Cross in person—the streets around it were so choked with people that we turned around after snapping a photo—and a cute modification to a traffic sign.

And, on a whim, we poked into the “arts and shopping village” of Tlaquepaque, which proved fascinating. A successful Nevada businessman named Abe Miller fell in love with Sedona, decided to replicate a Mexican village there, and then went about it in a rather unorthodox way.

Bob McIntyre was an unconventional architect, purposely hiring only amateur artisans and self-trained plasterers, chosen for their heart and enthusiasm for the Tlaquepaque project. He worked right alongside them. No professional stonemasons were on the crew. Tremendous artistic freedom was given to the workers who “loved to be turned loose on a wall and watch it grow under their hands.” And if they weren’t happy with their day’s work, Abe allowed them to tear it down and start over. “Forget the plumb, use the thumb,” was a favorite saying on the construction site. […] Thick stucco walls accented with delicate wrought iron, stonework and patterned tiles clearly define space and movement within the village. The entire complex has a natural organic feel that gives one the impression that it has been around for a long, long time.

Built around massive, mature sycamores, the place is a fabulous folly, and it’s a treat to explore. (The architecture, that is. The businesses are souvenir schlock.) If only new development in Santa Barbara got the same treatment.

Miller’s vision was for “a village where artisans create in full view of visitors and live on-site as well.” I didn’t get the impression that’s what’s happening now.

Although I kind of wish I had taken this guy home.

Despite being unimpressed with the town, we did eat pretty well: the service at the best-known restaurant, Elote Cafe, was excellent (and refreshing after the hotel); Indian Gardens proved a delightful spot for breakfast and lunch; and the pizza at Gerardo’s Pizzeria was good by any standard. My favorite meal was lunch at Tamaliza Cafe, a modest Mexican restaurant where the food is prepared with care.

On one of our days in Sedona, my husband and I booked a Westwind excursion to Monument Valley in Navajo Nation. I’ve always wanted to see Monument Valley, but it’s far from everywhere. We were told to arrive at the Sedona airport a half hour early, only to have to wait for a half hour. (Must the punctual pay for the sins of the tardy?) It gave me an opportunity to ponder the memo about “bomb threat procedures” posted inside.

The excursion has slots for nine people, but we were the only takers, which meant a smaller plane came up from Phoenix. We flew for an hour and fifteen minutes to Page, Arizona, for refueling—where the scenery was remarkable—and then another 40 minutes to Navajo Nation.

Watching the world from a few thousand feet up was mesmerizing—the geography is varied, to say the least—even if it did remind me of the Apple TV screensaver.

And I was tickled to see Meteor Crater from above, having enjoyed a visit there many years ago.

The manmade geography was no less interesting (albeit occasionally depressing).

We’d stare down, seeing no signs of life for minutes on end, and then suddenly a few vehicles and maybe a structure would appear in the middle of nowhere. Meth labs?

And here’s what Enchantment looks like from on high.

The airport at Monument Valley was too windy for us to land there, so instead, we flew to the town of Kayenta, also in Navajo Nation, where a bus met us for the 25-minute drive to Monument Valley. I loathe buses, but you could do worse.

The driver deposited us at the Stagecoach Restaurant, operated by the same company (Goulding’s) handling our land tour. I haven’t been in a true diner in a long while; it felt like time travel. Westwind had asked us to preorder beef or chicken Navajo tacos, and we chose one of each. The waitress, however, told us that she had never heard of a chicken option, and she proceeded to marvel over its existence (which may have involved a can of cream of chicken soup). I’m not a fan of fry bread, but the memory of the meal was priceless.

Monument Valley is just as I had pictured, based on countless old Westerns and other films. It’s jaw-droppingly beautiful, and I’m thrilled to have been able to visit it.

If you know me at all, you know that I’m unlikely to leave it at that. The land is iconic, but the experience is not what it might be. Monument Valley is managed by Navajo Nation, and it’s not a National Park; as a result, it’s all a cut below. The road is a mess, and there are souvenir stalls at every major viewpoint. When you’re on a tour like ours, you don’t get to savor the landscape on your own at all, and the guide was friendly but not especially knowledgeable about the park. It’s possible that we didn’t get to see as much as we might have if we’d flown into Monument Valley—not just from the air (where we definitely would’ve seen more), but also on land, since we had to spend an extra hour driving to and from Kayenta. For what it’s worth, our guide did come alive when we reentered Kayenta, explaining what various buildings are. It was a side of Navajo life most visitors to Monument Valley probably don’t see, but also a stark reminder of how much the U.S. has let the tribe down.

P.S. Just like in our last visit to Arizona, we stopped by Pizzeria Bianco on the way to Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport. (Love that name.) This time, we tried the location in downtown Phoenix, which has far more charm than the Scottsdale outpost the outpost outside Scottsdale and pizza that’s equally superb.

UPDATE 11/30: I turned off the comments because it’s time to move on. You’re welcome to email your thoughts to [email protected].

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Previous travel coverage:
••• A Proper Visit to Santa Monica
••• A Quickie in San Francisco
••• Dipping a Toe Into Southern Corsica
••• The Exquisite Luxury of Taking Paris for Granted
••• Santa Rosa Island in One Day
↓↓↓ Soaking Up History at Castle Hot Springs
••• Driving Through the Heart of Hokkaido
••• Tokyo Is a World Unto Itself
••• Paso Robles, Pinnacles National Park, and Beyond
••• A Review of the Inn at Mattei’s Tavern
••• Another Quickie in L.A.
••• Sitting Pretty at the One & Only Mandarina
••• The Mysteries of Istanbul
••• Palm Springs: Midweek at the Oasis
••• Exploring the Sea Caves of Santa Cruz Island
••• A Summer Swing Through the Northeast
••• Why Is Everyone Going to Portugal?
••• Patagonia Made Easy
••• A Quickie in L.A.
••• From Penthouse to Pavement in Mexico City
••• Do Greek Islands Live Up to the Fantasy?
••• Splendid Isolation at Utah’s Lodge at Blue Sky
••• Three Reasons to Visit Paso Robles Now
••• The Rebirth of the Cuyama Buckhorn

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