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.
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