“Welcome to one of the seven natural wonders of the world. This is the Grand Canyon.”
And with that, the shuttle driver opened the vehicle’s doors to an incredible, uncapturable vastness. This was my second time at the Grand Canyon, but I don’t think you can ever truly get accustomed to the immense openness that pours itself from layers of red rock to a nearly cobalt sky, spanning for miles.
My local tour guides (my grandma and grandpa) brought my brother, dad, and I to the canyon — it was my brother and dad’s first time to the Grand Canyon, and seeing their reactions was the coolest part of the trip.
“I will remember this for the rest of my life,” my dad told me afterwards.
It’s not every day that you get to hear that, and it’s not every day that you get to experience one of the seven natural wonders of the world! We began our jaunt along the South Rim of the Canyon at the visitor’s center, where I got Future Ana into a bit of trouble.
Remember my 25 Things list? Well, as it turns out, there’s a lot more than just 25 things that I want to do, and I have somehow begun developing a list of things to accomplish before I turn 30, but after I complete my 25 Things list. One of the items I’ve jotted down is to visit the top national parks.
I discovered that just as there is a passport system for the Minnesota State Parks, there is also a passport system for the National Parks. Except instead of 75 parks, there are 400 — which somehow adds up to a grand total of 1,200 stamps.
I am now the proud, if not slightly apprehensive, owner of one of these passports, with one lone stamp incorrectly placed in the “Western” section of the book.
Why incorrectly? Because when I purchased the book and asked the gentleman at the Grand Canyon Visitor’s Center for the stamp, I also asked him where the stamp belonged.
“Anywhere,” he said. “It’s your book now, you can do what you want with it.”
“Alright,” I said, stamping the book in the first stamp space, which seemed logical at the time.
As it turns out, that space is allocated for one of the National Park’s annual commemorative park stamps, and not a cancellation stamp. While my inner Type A was inclined to head back to the Visitor’s Center and purchase a brand new book, I’ve decided to settle for covering the cancellation with the physical, sticker stamp, and to re-stamp my book when I return to the Canyon next. I have intentions to spend a few days camping in the Canyon, so I can hike to the bottom and visit various sites along the base of the canyon, such as the Kaibob Suspension Bridge and the Colorado River.
In the meantime, 1(ish) down, 1,199 to go. How encouraging.
We boarded a shuttle to take us around the South Rim, and I excitedly perused my new passport book (which is 112 pages long) along the drive, peeking up every now and then at the expansive canyon, which seemed to drop off just inches from the road in certain spots.
Our first stop was at Maricopa Point. From there, we could not only see across the canyon, but below us, we could see tiny hikers making their way up and down the switchbacks of the Bright Angel Trail. I was desperate to be one of them — another adventure for another time.
We continued along the Powell and Hopi points, where I experienced the familiar sense of High Place Phenomenon that always sets in as soon as I reach any point of elevation. Something inside of me is always wanting to take flight, and as such, at any form of heights, my mind can’t help but wonder what it would be like to fly, jump, or both (preferably with a bungee cable or a parachute attached). Studies on the phenomenon have shown that the instinctual leap of the mind is not some kind of Freudian Death Drive instinct, but more of the opposite – an urge to live, a fight-or-flight reaction to subconsciously detected danger.
Science. All I know is that I enjoy flying in planes and getting as close to the edge of heights as I possibly and safely can. Whether or not it’s a fight-or-flight reaction or a dash of recklessness is inconsequential, as long as I don’t get too close, right?
We hit Mohave Point, and decided to skip the next two stops in order to make it to Hermit’s Rest for sunset.
However, luck was not with us, or at least our shuttle bus driver wasn’t, as she declared that she would be leaving Hermit’s Rest for the last shuttle ride that night, exactly at sunset. This meant that we needed to stay at Pima Point if we wanted to experience the sunset, and wait for her to return from Hermit’s Rest to catch our last ride back to the Visitor’s Center. Otherwise, we would be walking back to our car along the dark edges of the canyon’s rim, along with the 26 mountain lions the park was currently tracking.
We opted to watch the sunset from Pima Point and take the shuttle back.
I was mildly disappointed, as I wanted to experience the sunset at Hermit’s Rest, like I had at our last visit to the canyon, but the sunset was still gorgeous at Pima Point.
Yellow faded to orange, and orange melted into purple clouds, with red and gold bleeding through in long rays of dimming sunlight.
Once the sun had disappeared below the outline of the canyon, we boarded the shuttle and returned to our hotel for the night, making sure we got enough sleep to drive to our next adventure the following morning: the red desert and monument valley in Sedona.
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