“The one thing you have to do, if you go to Sedona, is take a Pink Jeep tour,” a friend told us, so I looked it up.
“I don’t know,” I told Ric. “This looks pretty intimidating.”
“Well, it’s up to you.”
The Broken Arrow tour, Pink Adventure’s most popular excursion looked out of the question. “Off road trails over “rocky” terrain with climbs and descents,” the website reads.
The Ancient Ruins trip interested both of us, but it involved forty-five minutes of hiking. There was a Touch The Earth adventure, but the associated image also showed people walking. I called the company and explained that I use a walker and am limited in how far I can walk.
“You definitely won’t be able to do any of the walking tours,” I was advised. “So that leaves either The Broken Arrow or the Scenic tour, which doesn’t go off-road.”
“Isn’t the Broken Arrow a bit too rough?”
Even as I asked the question I knew we were not doing the scenic tour. We could do that in our own car.
“Sign us up!” I said. I can survive anything for just two hours, I told myself.
That’s how I found myself strapped into the back of a pink jeep.
“When do we go off-road?” a young boy across from me yelled.
“Right now!” said the driver, wrenching on the steering wheel and directing the jeep onto a dirt path and then coming to an abrupt stop before a large boulder. “What should I do now?” he egged on the youngster.
“Drive over it!” came the roar from all three boys on board.
Momentary panic hit me, as the vehicle’s tires gripped the rock and pulled us up onto the uneven path ahead.
“Can I get out here?” I asked, feebly attempting a joke. I seriously wondered if I’d bitten off more than I could handle. I had visions of Thunder Mountain at Disneyland and how sick I’d been afterwards. Where was my head signing up for this?
The ride was bumpy, and while we climbed or dipped, and a couple of times got tossed around, the views were spectacular. We stopped on level ground, and Ric and I hung back as the others explored on foot, taking advantage of the opportunity to take pictures.
“See that white line along the side of the mountain?” Our guide, Steve, pointed out on one stop. “That’s the path that mountain bikers use.”
“No way!” we all responded in unison. So he pulled out his phone and showed us a video. Google: white trail riding, Sedona. It’s a real thing.
Just to prove his point, a mountain biker passed us, headed downward.
I suddenly felt safer in our open jeep.
Our next stop was Chicken Rock, and while the rest of the passengers scrambled down the dip and posed atop the formation, Ric and I declared ourselves chickens.
Our guide was a font of information filling us in about how the mountains were formed, the plants and trees that grow there, local folklore, and other interesting facts.
Just as I was coming to believe that the ‘wild’ ride was more performance than risk, the jeep came to a stop atop one final, very steep decline. Perched precariously, Steve waited while we pulled out our phones. I managed a quick shot and then safely secured my phone in my pocket and held on for dear life. Screams and laughter followed our descent and then we were back on paved ground.
Returned to our hotel safely, and exhausted from the day, Ric and I headed in for the night, deciding to do dinner in the room. Despite our fatigue, we were both buzzing with the thrill of our adventure.
Thank you, Pink Jeep tours!