Three weeks in the West, part 16.1
We drove up to Flagstaff after our hike around Cathedral Rock. We bought some groceries and then washed lots of clothes at Loggermat Laundry. By the time we headed out, it was getting a bit dark and we had a bit of trouble finding a good place to camp. We eventually settled on a site not too far from the Arizona Snowbowl. The 3000-foot difference in elevation became quite obvious during the night, because it got capital-K cold. But we're adults, so we endured.
The next morning, June 10, we packed up and continued north to the Grand Canyon. We stopped in Grand Canyon Village after I spotted an Indian market on the side of the road. There was some excellent hoop dancing by a local performer, and I bought a new medicine bag for my crystals. After an hour or so, we moved along and arrived at the park soon afterward.
It was extremely crowded: the most congestion I'd ever seen on the South Rim. The new (to me) visitor complex was crawling with people, their cars and RVs parked bumper-to-bumper on both sides of the road. Of course, the last time I'd visited the canyon was by myself and at night, late in November of 1998. When I drove out to the canyon at that time, it was to scatter my father's ashes over the rim.
My father had died at the beginning of October in 1998. The last full day we spent together was in October 1997, when my parents and I went to the Grand Canyon before I began my job in Sedona. So I thought it would be fitting to bring his ashes there as a way to memorialize him.
In the years that have passed, I've seen photos that I'd swear were taken from the same spot upon which I stood that night. But since I don't recall the name of the viewpoint, I had to rely on memory to find the location. What with the crowds, the daylight and the almost fractal similarity in cliffside sculpting, this proved difficult. I scampered down one ledge that seemed right and searched for any remains of the candleholders I'd used nine years ago, but there was nothing. I just had to think about what had transpired in my life since that time, and reflect on the current of change.
And then we drove east to get away from the crowds.
1111px version
Photos from day 15 are here.
The second part of day 16 is here.
The next morning, June 10, we packed up and continued north to the Grand Canyon. We stopped in Grand Canyon Village after I spotted an Indian market on the side of the road. There was some excellent hoop dancing by a local performer, and I bought a new medicine bag for my crystals. After an hour or so, we moved along and arrived at the park soon afterward.
It was extremely crowded: the most congestion I'd ever seen on the South Rim. The new (to me) visitor complex was crawling with people, their cars and RVs parked bumper-to-bumper on both sides of the road. Of course, the last time I'd visited the canyon was by myself and at night, late in November of 1998. When I drove out to the canyon at that time, it was to scatter my father's ashes over the rim.
My father had died at the beginning of October in 1998. The last full day we spent together was in October 1997, when my parents and I went to the Grand Canyon before I began my job in Sedona. So I thought it would be fitting to bring his ashes there as a way to memorialize him.
In the years that have passed, I've seen photos that I'd swear were taken from the same spot upon which I stood that night. But since I don't recall the name of the viewpoint, I had to rely on memory to find the location. What with the crowds, the daylight and the almost fractal similarity in cliffside sculpting, this proved difficult. I scampered down one ledge that seemed right and searched for any remains of the candleholders I'd used nine years ago, but there was nothing. I just had to think about what had transpired in my life since that time, and reflect on the current of change.
And then we drove east to get away from the crowds.
1111px version
Photos from day 15 are here.
The second part of day 16 is here.
Three weeks in the West, part 16.1
mr damon, 05:22
1 Comments:
The crowds at Grand Canyon Village so discouraged my see-the-USA adventure I cut it short, feeling as though somewhere between LA and NYC this crowd was a harbinger of overpopulation doom and I just didn't want any more reminders. So I returned to Awestun, Tejas and watched it grow to top a million souls.
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