Grand Experiences
Await us all when we are open to them
After reading Five Forms of Storytelling by Lyndsay Knowles, I thought about how many pictures I’ve taken over the years. At this moment I have 336 photos on my phone that I’ve taken since October 26. There’s one picture that I see often because it’s my screen saver. It’s a picture of the Grand Canyon that I took almost 5 years ago.
It was an unexpected change of plans that resulted in my trip to the Grand Canyon. A good friend and I were going to drive up to Hilton Head Island for a few days. Two weeks before the trip, her husband’s sciatic nerve acted up, so she couldn’t go. These plans were made months in advance and it was too late to try and round up someone else. While wallowing in my disappointment, it occurred to me that all was not lost.
Maybe I couldn’t go as planned, in the same way and with the same person — but I could still go somewhere.
I looked at my Delta frequent flyer miles and considered places I hadn’t been before. Although I looked forward to traveling, I didn’t want to be completely alone on my birthday. I thought about my friend Annette from my college days. We had recently reconnected and I remembered that she now lived some place out west where I had never been. I reached out to her and confirmed that she would be in town. I booked a trip to Scottsdale, Arizona.
Annette is one of those friends whom you can easily pick up where you last left off — even if it was many years ago. For my birthday, she (with husband and daughter in tow) picked me up from my hotel, gave me a bouquet of flowers and took me out to dinner. This was far more than I expected. I appreciated that she made the effort to make my birthday special. Reconnecting with old friends is a gift in itself.
Feeling adventurous, I signed up for a guided tour of the Grand Canyon the next day. The Grand Canyon is about 230 miles from Scottsdale. Of course, I had some reservations. The tour shuttle was a passenger van and the length of the tour would be 13 hours. I would be in a moving vehicle for a long time — with a group of people I didn’t know and a driver (the tour guide) whose job it was to talk the entire time. Then, I had to ask myself, When will you be this close to the Grand Canyon again?
The van picked me up at 6:30 am. Being the first on board, I eyed the empty van and passed by each row until reaching the last. I was to have this space to myself for the entire trip. The van stopped a few more times at hotels in the Scottsdale/Phoenix area until it was full. As each passenger boarded, brief introductions were made. Immediately in front of me was a newly engaged young couple from New Jersey. Everyone else was from outside of the country — England, Malaysia and Australia. It was early morning and there wasn’t much to see as the van moved along the open stretch of highway. For the longest time, I was content to watch and listen — the movement of my fellow travelers, their questions (to the delight of our guide) and the interplay of curious accents.
Not long after, the sun rose. I looked out the window and watched hot air balloons in the distance climb above the horizon. I was struck that a simple landscape could produce so much beauty — and the humor and hope of hot air balloons. I watched for as long as I could.
On the way to the Grand Canyon, we stopped in Sedona and enjoyed lunch. Having lived in Atlanta, I’ve seen the red clay of Georgia. But it was peculiar to be surrounded by this much red — red beneath my feet, red rocks stacked on red hills, even the buildings of the Sedona Center were red.
We left behind the red rocks of Sedona and within 2 hours drove through a lush valley of yellow wildflowers. The skies were a dreamy blue and dotted with a few white clouds.
We climbed 2,000 feet along a winding, 2-lane highway through Oak Creek Canyon. Oak Creek Canyon is considered to be the cousin of the Grand Canyon. A few times I closed my eyes instead of looking outside of the van as it maneuvered around the sharp turns. I felt queasy as I looked at the close proximity of the van to the guard rails unable to prevent us from dropping off the edge of the earth. At one point, the van slowed down and stopped. With these harrowing roads, what else could it be other than a horrible accident? Instead, a herd of deer were casually crossing the road — after all, we were in the Coconino National Forest.
We finally made it to the south rim of the Grand Canyon. The tour guide gave us two important pieces of information before we departed: the time to return to the van (as he didn’t want to leave us) and what to do if it looks like a storm (as he wouldn’t want us to be struck by lightning).
Later, as warned, dark clouds formed over the canyon with lightning strikes in the distance. A heavy rain came down and a steamy mist rose from the ground. People dotted along the canyon rim scurried away in search of shelter. With the words of the guide in my head and a fear of lightning, I had been in the gift shop for several minutes ahead of the storm. By the time the gift shop had filled up, I was engrossed in a book about deaths at the Grand Canyon.
There are not enough words to capture the wonder of the Grand Canyon. I took as many pictures as I could. Every view was a postcard. Upon our arrival it was a clear day with blue skies and fluffy white clouds. The fluffy clouds caste dark shadows upon the canyon. Elements farthest away looked muted and blended like a watercolor painting. Along the outlined ridges were tiny little specks of trees that reach over 100 feet into the sky. The chiseled ridges of the canyon look to be the work of a sculptor while the rock formations look to be stacked by a child at play. At the farthest depth of the canyon, I could make out the squiggly lines of a road. I walked along the canyon rim, unable to register the expanse of it all — to feel small in comparison to it; but then to feel grand having witnessed it.
We stayed at the Grand Canyon for a few hours before heading back to Scottsdale. The van was mostly quiet with the exception of our guide. There were many uneventful miles ahead of us, which we were resigned to. Amidst a lavender sky and dark clouds, a golden sun lowered itself to the earth.
I learned a lot from my trip to the Grand Canyon. It would have been easy for me to stay home when my original plans did not work out. I had to let go of my previous expectations and disappointment of a trip to the beach. Maybe when one thing doesn’t work out, it’s to make room for something else.
I had planned to travel with a friend, but traveling solo is also an option. Traveling by myself does not mean that I have to be alone. I can meet up with friends and family that live in other parts of the country. It’s also an opportunity to meet new people.
I had a strong desire to get away and to do something new — I was in search of adventure. Adventure keeps us youthful and breaks up the routine of life. It’s important to build adventure into our lives.
Grand experiences await us all when we are open to them.
