 THE GRAND CANYON: 1 July – 11 July 1999
Overview:
Follows the author's initial apprehension as it turns into a realization of the wonders offered by the open road. From the cliff dwellings at Mesa Verde to the majestic rock gardens of Canyonlands, Zion and Capitol Reef National Parks, a wide road of discovery is revealed. The fulfillment of a dream to ride to the Grand Canyon serves only to awake a sleeping traveler. It is an acknowledgement of the cathedral-like simplicity of Monument Valley over the flashing glitz of Las Vegas, a reminiscence of American pasts on a ride along Route 66 and a disoriented stomp through Roswell's UFO museum. It is the beginning of a personal tradition.
Excerpt from The Grand Canyon:
July 6, 1999: This is it! The main reason for the trip. I'm up at 4:00 AM and heading out the door. It's cold on the road, especially in my thin jacket, and I take it slower than normal to cut down on the wind. The only things out here besides me are deer, and I stay on the center stripe and continue to scan the shoulders.
After an hour's ride I'm really cold so I stop and lean over next to the pipes to catch whatever heat they're willing to share.
There is just a hint of light in the sky as I park at the North Rim Lodge. Ahead is Bright Angel Point and sunrise. What a great name — Bright Angel Point. There are quite a few other people out for sunrise and I'm very aware of the noise my boots make as I walk the paved path to the point.
People look up as I approach and, seeing that I'm trying to be quiet, they smile and nod hello. Greetings are passed in whispers. It's like being in church. I reach the point only to find the morning sky overcast.
It doesn't appear that there will be a morning light show today but the entire canyon is spread out before me — what a sight! It looks just like the pictures, but like in the desert, the morning light shifts the shadows around and the scene constantly changes. There is a woman here with an infant and it begins to squall. It will not shut up. I can tell that some of the other people here are as disturbed as I am. Mother says something about baby not having its “binkie.” Mentally I fashion a “binkie” that is probably nothing like what Mommy has in mind. Mine is sharp and made of chrome. Mercifully, they leave. I depart the path and find a quiet rock under a tree overlooking the Canyon and sit in meditation for a long time. Other people come to this place, and finding it occupied, go elsewhere. There is a respect for privacy here.
The North Rim Lodge is a lodge in every sense of the word. It is a beautiful, rustic building of wood and stone with huge windows affording views of the canyon from every part of the dining room. There is also a terrace with hand-made wooden chairs where one can sit and gaze out over the canyon. The breakfast buffet costs $7.88 and it's good. It's the first actual breakfast I've had since I left. After breakfast I hit the gift shop. There is a CD playing a mixture of new age piano music and Indian chants that is quite mesmerizing. It's called We the People. I buy a copy. It's the perfect soundtrack for this place.
Out on the terrace I meet a biker from Farmington named Johnny — a really nice guy. He says he's taking a couple of days with a tour and hiking into the canyon and camping out. Would I like to go? I ask him how his CPR skills are because I'm sure my heart will attack me on the first long uphill climb. This altitude leaves me short of breath quite easily.
In the parking lot I find the ladies from Vancouver and another group of bikers from around Chicago. They've all arrived together and the rumble of pipes makes me smile. There are more bikes in this parking lot than RV's — everything appears just as it should be. There are two other main roads on the North Rim: Point Imperial and Cape Royal. Point Imperial is the highest point on the Grand Canyon (8803 ft.) and the views from it are stunning — but I prefer Cape Royal. It has a number of short hiking trails — short enough that even I don't get out of breath.
Some of the overlooks are on outcroppings of rock which give the impression of being suspended in space when I stand near the railings. The Grand Canyon, regardless of viewpoint, is just too big to fully register.
I finally take a seat beneath a tree near one of the overlooks and just stare across the vast expanse. Soon I'm joined by a guy from LA who's tired of chasing his family around as they snap pictures. He says he could spend all day in the very spot that he occupies now. I know just what he means, I've been in my one spot a while. I'm beginning to understand how people spend their entire life photographing and exploring this wonder. Life in this single moment is perfect. As I'm finally leaving I hear a rumble coming up the road — it's the guys from Chicago. The sound is outstanding, it echoes off everything!
Heading back toward Utah I notice the country I traveled through in pitch darkness this morning: seriously ugly desert. It is really hot with no relief.
At Freedonia, Arizona, I head out to Pipe Spring National Monument. It is an actual working cattle ranch, founded circa 1870. The 14-mile ride is as hot as I've been on this trip and I arrive drained of all energy.
The park service employees here are dressed in period costumes. I take the tour of the main building (called the fort). Inside the building is cool; 22-inch thick stone walls do this for you. I learn that frontier women gauged the temperature of their ovens by seeing how long they could hold their hands inside (3 seconds for high heat, 12 seconds, low heat). My outside exposure is peaking at about 3 seconds. The 20-mile ride back to the motel is torture and the shower is heaven. This motel has outstanding water pressure and I let it beat on my neck and shoulders for a long, long time. I'm too tired to go out to eat, and besides, it's starting to rain.
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