Road Trip: The Grand Canyon and Glen Canyon

This post is the first part of a two month road trip I took around The States.

September 2017

I got the family discount, even though I wasn’t exactly family. Ross and I had known each other since we were ten, having moved to Big Bear the same year, and given each other shit for our entire acquaintance…so in a way we were absolutely family.

I hadn’t been to the Grand Canyon since I was three and didn’t have the keenest memory of the experience. In fact, I remembered absolutely nothing other than a story mum told about how I nearly gave her a heart attack by climbing up the barrier at a viewpoint.

It was different than I had imagined. I always pictured a gaping mouth in a dry red desert, but as I neared the outskirts of the national park, I was surrounded by evergreens and deer crossing signs. Despite having the day off, Ross came in to work to be my guide and pilot.  

As it was my first time in a helicopter, I didn’t quite know what to expect. It was a lot choppier than I imagined, like a boat in a turbid sea, and a small part of me wished that I had taken motion sickness meds.

Over the pine forest we traveled, and though I felt like a caterpillar inching along, according to Ross we were zooming. Then quite suddenly the land dropped away to reveal The Grand Canyon.

Words pale in comparison to the vastness that is The Grand Canyon. Pencil lines marked the trails descending to the depths of the chasm, where the Colorado river flowed like a streak of blue-green paint on an auburn canvas. On the northern rim grassy fields and spotted trees marked the end of one painting and the beginning of another. It was a place that made you accept the insignificance of your own being and a realize the world’s greatest wonders built themselves.

A prerecorded audio tour pointed out different rock formations, like the “Sinking Ship.” I wondered how long it had taken for Ross to grow sick of the endless loop. Turns out his headphones had a different connection and he listened to whatever music he fancied while his passengers were educated.  

Back on solid ground, we ordered a couple beers and watched the sunset from the rim, before meeting a few of his coworkers for pizza. Through the course of the meal Ross and Justin told us about a kayaking trip they had planned and how all the others had backed out.

I could see the idea form before it was said; Ross asked Justin if someone could hop on last minute. Justin confirmed it was no big deal and three seconds later I accepted an invitation to join them. Why not, I had an few extra days before I was meant to be in Phoenix.

The sun was still asleep when we drove away from the forest and through the barren desert. I slept most of the way, while the guys listened to music and chatted. After a quick pit stop, we collected our kayak rentals and met up with the boat that would ferry us upriver to the Glen Canyon Dam.

I have a confession; I may have almost died on day two of my USA road trip. The minute we landed at the head of the river we started taking shots of Fireball whiskey. Too many of those combined with an extended swim in frigid water, may have resulted in a hypothermic coma.

Fast forward a few hours and several miles downstream to find me asleep in my kayak, parked in the semi-shade. Ross and Justin had been diligent caretakers, making sure I didn’t die; and having expelled the entirety of my stomach I wasn’t in the worst shape.

Once the others noticed I had rejoined the living, Justin offered to show me a collection of petroglyphs on the canyon walls. As he helped me out of the kayak, I received a huge round of applause from the friends he and Ross had made. They all knew my name and were overjoyed to see me awake and moving. To be honest, I would have been content napping in the kayak a bit longer, despite the cool petroglyphs.

It wasn’t much farther down stream to our camp at Horseshoe bend. Our arrival was heralded by a sudden downpour of cold rain. I was still a bit queasy, and since none of us had felt the need to bring a tent, I hid in the outhouse as buckets fell from the sky. The boys took refuge for a bit, before giving in to the weather and going off to explore the valley. In hindsight the movement would have done me a lot of good, and my one regret of the trip was that I didn’t buck up and follow them.

As the clouds cleared we gathered round to prepare dinner, accepting the inevitable fact that the ground was damp, and our sleeping bags would be wet. I managed to choke down a few spoonfuls of rehydrated food before passing the leftovers to Ross; my stomach remained precarious, and I didn’t want to overdo it.

The stars were brilliant in the unpolluted skies. Whenever I woke with a sleeping limb or a stitch in my spine, I couldn’t resist the urge to remain awake and gaze upon them. Occasionally, Ross or Justin woke at the same time and we would whisper praises about the Milky Way and her wondrous beauty.

By breakfast some of my hunger had returned and I was able to eat a full portion. There was a lot of river left between us and the car and the currents proved less helpful than the previous day. I wasn’t the fastest of kayakers, and often discovered myself far behind the other two. I didn’t mind, it was peaceful, and I felt less pressure to paddle harder when left to my own devices.

Upon rounding a bend, I discovered they had stopped to watch a herd of wild horses, grazing on the edge of the river. From there we were in the homeward stretch, to my great relief as blisters were pushing their way to the surface on both my hands.

After nearly dying, followed by a damp night’s sleep, I had no trouble passing out for most of the return journey. The boys invited me to be a guest at a huge staff party that night…free food and beer, what more could a girl want? The venue was inside a hanger bay filled with planes from different eras. I ate enough to feed three people, but no one cared as there was plenty to go around. Then after a quick turn about the room and a few words of greeting, we left.

I woke before the sun, having said farewell to Ross the night prior; it was a long drive to Phoenix, and I planned to take my time through Sedona. In reality, I stopped occasionally for pictures, but there was no space in my schedule to be a true tourist.