I hike along the beautiful red rock cliffs which could be any place on Mars except for the shallow stream bubbling over the red sandstone, laughing and gurgling.  No streams on Mars for millions of years.

     I am not hiking on Mars but Sedona, Arizona, and just across the creek there are maybe a hundred stacks of stones piled on top of each other like knee-high hiking cairns.  There are thousands of stones creating hundreds of knee-high piles.  I have stumbled upon another vortex.

     Sedona is proud of its proximity to the Lowell astronomical telescope which was built to observe the canals of Mars.  In 1927, Sedona became the first place to spot a spaceship, a genuine UFO hovering above these earthly skies.

     Another of my favorite hikes goes to Vultee Arch, a canyon named after an early aviation pioneer who crashed and died there.  Vultee Arch is a big red rock window in front of a giant sandstone cliff whose base is littered with hundreds of stone piles, thousands of rocks—another damn vortex.

     “It was hard growing up in Sedona,” Natalia said, “And still believe in organized religion.”  She tosses some of her long cascading curls away from her face, and over her shoulder.   “You have to remember,” she explains, “that I was alive for the Harmonic Convergence, when all the New Agers descended on Sedona like a plague of locusts.  Some of them had purchased expensive tickets for the spaceship that was supposed to emerge from inside Bell Rock.  Very expensive tickets.  I grew up seeing all sorts of cults come and go.  For instance there was one hippy cult living in the RV  Park and they used to go up to the junior high kids and offer to buy their blood.”

     “Why did they want to buy blood?” I ask.

     She replies, “Who knows?”

     I ask, “What did they do with the blood?”

     Natalia shudders.  “Who really wants to know?  The whole thing is kind of creepy.”  Then she shrugged.  “I spent my blood money on candy.”

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