I left the interstate freeway system far behind me at Phoenix and was travelling on minor roads across the vast Navajo reservation. The reservation covers nearly 24,00 square miles which is roughly the same size as Wales in the UK. The Navajo, unlike the majority of the North American Indians, did not completely loose their homeland to the White Man. After a bitterly fought war followed by a forced march into exile, during which many died, they were eventually allowed home. Now the population of this biggest of all the Indian reservations was actually increasing. The terrain I rode through was mostly desert. I stopped for petrol and a coffee and a hamburger at a small group of building which contained a service station and a restaurant. The restaurant was run by two Navajo women and three small children were running about. As I ate, a pretty Indian girl came in. She had long back hair cascading down to the middle of her back and wore a tight fitting buckskin dress, She crossed to the jukebox and played a Fleetwood Mac record and suddenly the mood seemed sadly out of place. I left the restaurant and rode down a side rode which read 'Navajo National Monument'. I reached the visitor centre and was told by the friendly young Navajo in his green 'Ranger' Uniform that I was welcome to camp there free of charge if I wished. I thanked him but declined as it was still not quite yet noon and there were many more miles I wished to cover that day. At the back of the centre was a footpath which led to the 'Monument'. I walked for about a quarter of a mile on a path of concrete laid down on hard rock pass small fur trees. Eventually, I arrived at the rim of a steep canyon. The walls were sheer orange- brown stained rock. At first I did not see anything. Then I let my eyes follow the far canyon wall to a small hollow near the bottom. There I saw the ruins of small orange-stained adobe buildings blending into the rock. These were the cliff dwellings of the Anasazi Civilisation, built seven centuries ago. The name Anasazi is from a Navajo word meaning "the ancient ones". They established small pueblo-like towns and cities in north-eastern Arizona. The civilisation was predominantly based on agriculture and reached its peak in the 11th, 12th and 13th centuries. Then by AD 1300 they abandoned their homes for reasons which have not been satisfactorily explained. Some moved towards the Rio Grande, others south to the territory now occupied by the Hopi Indians, who by carrying on their own ancient traditions, offer a contemporary insight into past Pueblo life. The ancestors of the Navajo and Apache migrated down from the north west of Canada much later and the Navajo began to occupy the canyon area in about 1700. The language and culture of the Navajo is very much different from that of the other Indian tribes of the US, such as the Sioux, Comanche etc., and is more related to that of the natives of north west Canada. The Navajo were a warlike people. However, they used the canyons as strongholds and also developed an agricultural form of life learnt from the pueblos and Spanish. They did not build houses but lived in "hogans", leaving the Anasazi buildings unoccupied and unmolested. I left the visitor centre and rode back to the main road to continue my journey north-east. The countryside gradually became more rugged. After some miles I turned north onto 'R.163' towards Utah, and just over the border between Arizona and Utah lay the tower-like rocks of Monument Valley. This landmark may be familiar to many people as it has been used as a backdrop to many western movies, principally of the Jon Wayne films, "Stagecoach" and "The Searchers". I stopped at the visitor centre and viewed the scene. It was late afternoon and the sun began sinking. There was a campsite at the centre but the ground looked stony and more suited to the American style trailers than my small tent so I resolved to ride on and find a motel. I rode back into Arizona to 'R.160' and followed it further east. The sky was very over cast so there was no brilliant sunset. As the sky grew darker the towering rocks slid passed me like ghostly castles. It quickly became pitch dark and got very cold. I followed the road towards the "Four Corners". This being the only point in the USA where four states meet. The states being, Arizona, Utah, Colorado and New Mexico. I stopped at a fast-food restaurant for a bite to eat. Outside and old Indian was sat on the pavement, leaning against the wall. He admire the bike. Afterwards when I came out, he tried to persuade me to give him a lift to Farmington. I politely refused saying that with all my luggage there was no more room on the bike. Also I was slightly unsure about him as I had heard that alcoholism was rife amongst the Navajo. All the same it did not prevent me from leaving without a feeling of guilt. I rode on to Farmington and booked into a cheap motel. The next day I rode back through Shiprock and saw the massive ship-like rock from which the town takes its name. Then I rode due south on 'R.666'. I had hoped at some point to visit the Canyon de Chelly (pronounced "shay"). However. I became engulfed in a violent thunder storm which appeared to be coming from the mountains I wished to visit. I was force to don my water-proof oversuit and it became difficult to hold the bike upright in the fierce wind. Thus I continued due south and booked straight into another hotel. The next day there was no sign of the past storm and the sky was a clear blue. I booked my room for another night and then backtracked a few miles of my previous days journey. I decided to risk braving the mountains which were deep in the heart of Navajo land.