I’m at the grand canyon. The plan is simple. I’m going to hike south to the end of the trail, then back to the visitors center by bus, then to the north end of the trail, and back again by bus.
I started the day off a little late – I arrived at the canyon around 11. I parked at the marketplace and picked up some postcards. This was a bad idea in retrospect; the postcards were fine, but the point was to be near the post office, and I think I’ll write the letters tonight and mail them tomorrow.
I then walked over to the visitors center, and Mather point. There, I met a nice old Scottish Mormon lady named Renee. She told me about visiting people she’d been on mission trips with, forty years ago.
Having started my journey right, I got to hiking. I headed down the rim trail, walking slowly and taking in the sights. I got all the way to the south kaibab trailhead, then followed Google’s stupid directions and walked to yaki point. From there, I took the bus back to the visitors center.
Walking the rim trail is beautiful. Little can compare. The grand canyon doesn’t win any gold medals. There are other canyons that are longer, deeper, wider. This one, however, is grand. There’s something in the layers, in the coloration, in the way the land curves. Is it the most awe inspiring sight. It’s graceful yet hard, gentle and firm. The small glimpse of the Colorado River you see from the rim hints at the incredible power of time and water to wash away everything.
