Now that I’ve dropped a bit of knowledge on you, I’ll get
into yesterday’s leg of the trip. Our one goal of the day was to see the Grand
Canyon and spend a little time taking in the beauty of one of the world’s most
visited natural sites. On the way there, we started seeing sheep and alpaca
farms. In one area, a sheep dog and a sheep pup herded a flock across the road,
and we had to stop and let them pass. On another farm, we saw a flock, with one
smaller sheep hauling around a little plastic sled. Mom was also in rare form.
Instead of explaining, I’ll give you all a few sound bites:
--On hearing a commercial
for a service that allows people to adopt stray cats (my cat happens to be
housed in Mom’s chicken coop, which is a large, insulated and weather resistant
cat mansion, until they return home and can find her a more permanent home): “Sissy,
catch that number.”
--On our government’s
relocation of the American Indian tribes: “It’s a shame they just moved them all
down here, like ‘here, ya’ll can have all this land…won’t nothing grow on it
though.’”
--When looking for a
place to eat lunch: “There’s a “swoosh-schwan” [Szechuan] place, but I don’t
know how I feel about Chinese in Arizona.”
--On the children
running around near the edges and railings at the Little Colorado River Gorge: “I
don’t think I’d want to bring little kids here. I started to tell Sissy to stay
in the car.”
Speaking of the Little Colorado River Gorge, we pulled over
at a scenic overlook to see the gorge, before getting to the Grand Canyon. This
overlook puts you right at the edge of the gorge and there is quite a fright
factor in peering over the side. It literally takes your breath away—call it an
adrenaline rush or vertigo.
There is a wonderful passage in “The Unbearable Lightness of
Being,” in which Milan Kundera speaks of vertigo. He says, “Vertigo is
something other than fear of falling. It is the voice of the emptiness below us
which tempts and lures us, it is the desire to fall, against which, terrified,
we defend ourselves.” He speaks in the context of ascending—having a higher
goal—but I think it applies to the physical manifestation of looking over the
edge. It’s something akin to staring down the barrel of a gun and having
control over the trigger. We, as humans, have a fascination with death. It is
something we all have in common, the one thing we cannot escape, and yet we try
to beat it in our feeble quests for immortality—our attempts to live on in our
work or accomplishments. When it is staring you in the eye, right at your feet,
in the form of a thousand-foot drop to the bed of a muddy brown river, it will
either scare the shit out of you or give you a bit of a rush, as you wag your
finger, Dikembe Mutombo style, at it.
As you would expect, there are places along the rim of the
Grand Canyon that will give you this feeling as well. However, what you
experience at this great wonder is something different. Upon approaching the
rim and catching your first glimpse, you’ll start to blink. Your eyes struggle
to gauge the grand depths and distances. It’s almost as if your brain needs to be
convinced at the sublimity you’re experiencing. You feel as it you can extend
your arm and your fingers will feel that it is only a painting you’ve seen. Of
course, it’s not a painting, and a painting (photograph or this description)
could never do it justice.
The view isn’t the only sight to see at the Grand Canyon,
though it is, by far, the most impressive. There is also a mule barn (on the
South Rim) and a village. Mom loved the mules, and Merle snapped a couple of
good pics of her cheesing beside their pen. We also saw a ton of elk in the
park, and one had decided that the median was the spot for the best grass.
After our Grand Canyon excursion, we set out West again, and
stopped in Williams, AZ for dinner. This little town turned out to be one of my
favorite stops on the trip. It seemed like the whole town was an ode to Route
66 and old Americana, with a gas station museum, dinners and honky-tonk bars,
and shops with Route 66 memorabilia. We ate at a barbecue joint that featured a
local musician playing some great oldies and a few original songs, and then we
hit the shops for some souvenir hunting and visited the gas station museum. We
ended our day in Seligman, AZ, where we stayed at the Deluxe Inn Motel, another
tribute to Route 66.
Day 5 was the most enjoyable for us all. The sightseeing was
phenomenal, and taking in the local culture was a lot of fun. Tomorrow, I’ll
recap the last leg of our journey from my new home in Chula Vista.
No comments:
Post a Comment