So I left Sedona, reluctantly extricating myself from the mysterious vortex, around 2 p.m., en route to the expected highlight of the trip: the mighty Grand Canyon. My anticipation was high, and my eyes were rewarded many times along the scenic drive of long, windy roads.
I've often thought that the anticipation of a journey is often as enjoyable as the journey itself, sometimes more so if my expectations are too high. My motorcoach arrived at Grand Canyon National Park around 5:30 p.m., and I got my first glimpses of this magnificent sight during the drive from the entrance to the heart of the south rim, the village containing my hotel. When the bus stopped, I got out and headed for a ledge where I carefully, fearfully snapped a few photos and gratefully accepted (in lieu of an ever-present Grand Canyon-accessory selfie stick) an offer from one of my tour mates to snap my photo in front of the astonishing south rim view.
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| Grand Canyon at last! |
I was careful not to get too close to anything beyond a barrier, resembling certain death, however. (I couldn't believe it, no matter how many times I saw people climb on the edges of ledges, dangling over the Grand Canyon, for their photos and personal meditations.) My acrophobia, which I've tried to conquer through skydiving and riding roller coasters, kicked in full force in the form of wobbly legs and diminished equilibrium. So I grabbed a few quick shots, in front of and behind my cellphone camera, and was ready for dinner at the hotel. Still struggling with this new time zone and feeling lethargic from the increased altitude, I was ready to retire to my room after dinner and, not surprisingly, awoke early the next morning ready to explore.
During the long, endless winter months leading up to this adventure, I'd fantasized about leisurely hikes through the Grand Canyon. On my first (and only) full day there, I was determined to make that fantasy reality. So I bundled up, left my hotel room early with a cup of in-room-brewed Keurig coffee (this was part of the fantasy), and strolled along a sidewalk in front of the hotel, leading to the village train depot, sloshing coffee all over, including myself. Suddenly, right in front of me, on the sidewalk, leisurely munching on a patch of foliage for breakfast, was an elk.
So, doing what any (good) tourist would do, I pulled out my cellphone camera and started taking photos of the elk. An elk was basically just like a deer, I thought, so if it saw me it would get spooked and run. I had a false sense of security that vanished in an instant when the elk turned, growled at me, and for one heart-stopping moment I believed it would charge me. Thankfully it didn't, and I hurried back to my hotel room before it changed its mind. (I've since learned just how stupid and dangerous my actions were, and now have a healthy, warranted fear of wildlife that I'll take with me on any future national park visits.)
The rest of my day was better, and closer to my initial Grand Canyon fantasy. I enjoyed a hearty spinach-and-chorizo-omelet breakfast and shuttled my way around the park, seeing the canyon from all of its south-rim angles. What I didn't realize, before visiting the park, is that it's so huge that it really is its own little village, with hotels, restaurants, shops, a grocery store, and a post office (where I mailed my postcards), and you need to ride the shuttles to see as much as you can.
The highlight of this day was a long walk along the rim trail, which was exactly as I'd imagined. Although the day was cold, the sun came out in the afternoon and the temperature rose to 65 degrees, just in time for my hike. It dropped into the 50s later in the day, so I stayed on the shuttles and viewed the sunset from their relative warmth rather than on foot, an ideal end to my Grand Canyon experience.
Obviously I enjoyed the visit (despite its imperfections) and was completely dazzled by the canyon itself, but to my surprise, I'd have to rank the Zion National Park, Utah, portion as my favorite of the entire trip. That, more than the Grand Canyon, is a place that I'd like to someday revisit.
I've returned from my nine-day Southwestern national park adventure with an exhausted, time-zone-altered, sunburned body; a cellphone camera bearing over 250 photos; increased understanding of Native American culture and life, past and present; a diminished bucket list; newfound confidence and renewed desire to explore the world; cherished memories; and many stories to share.
My trip began with a flight into Phoenix, AZ, where I was picked up by shuttle from the airport and delivered to a hotel featuring a suite as large as my apartment. I seriously thought there must have been some mistake at the front desk, but I wasn't about to correct it. I had a taste of the rock-star life (or what I imagine it to be like) as I lounged poolside, worked out in the fitness center, and later ordered room service (feeling like a real adult here). Life was good but destined to change. I met up with my escorted tour group that evening, and the following morning we were off on our trek to the Grand Canyon at 8 a.m.
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| Room service! |
Along the way, after hearing numerous jokes and intriguing stories about Sedona's famous vortexes (spiritual energy centers) from my tour director, I was ready for something otherworldly...after first indulging in some authentic Southwestern cuisine, of course (it was lunchtime). I hit up a Mexican restaurant with outdoor seating, speedy service, and good food in large portions (what more could you want?) as I took in my surroundings and plotted my next move.
Once fueled up, I walked back down the sidewalk in the direction of a crystal shop offering psychic readings. I was cautiously interested and drawn inside with a magnetic pull. I briefly browsed through the shop's amazing assortment of crystals (who knew there were so many colors, shapes, and sizes, one for every possible ailment or affliction?), decided the vibes were all good, and boldly walked to the counter to order a 20-minute psychic reading. Not more than two minutes later, I was escorted into a back room and seated across from my psychic, a stunningly beautiful woman with a warm, soothing presence and soft-spoken voice. She offered me a legal pad and pen to jot notes and allowed me to record the session on my phone, which I hadn't expected but later appreciated.
Getting started, she pulled out a deck of tarot cards and asked me to choose ten from the pile. My evangelical-Christian-indoctrinated spirit inwardly squirmed and offered up a silent prayer for God to please NOT strike me dead for what I was about to do. But as she spoke, I relaxed. I didn't know what to expect; in fact, I think I was probably more skeptical than anything else, expecting to be ripped off, but still open to the experience. What I found exceeded my hesitant expectations: this woman was good. I mean, she knew stuff, as in stuff that I hadn't told her. (I told her only my name and birthdate when asked. Nothing else.)
She informed me that solo adventures (without being told that's what I was on) would help me come into my own; it was important for me to harness and express my creativity (which I'm attempting to do here) and avoid complacency and comfortability in my life decisions; and spoke of this being a period of transition and new adventures for me: "Out with the old and in with the new." She was spot on with everything she said about my life and relationships, leading me to conclude that she's either clairvoyant or a really good, intuitive guesser. Either way, I was royally impressed.
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| Sedona's Bell Rock |
I left the shop, and Sedona itself, mind blown, encouraged, inspired, and later just as amazed as I was during the initial reading when I listened to my recording of the session, which told me that I hadn't been just caught up in that moment. I realize now that I've become skeptical of just about everything, including religion, relationships, motives, feelings, maybe for justifiable reasons. I think I've needed to believe in something, and I know I needed to know that I'm on a beneficial life path, one that will bring me personal and spiritual growth, now and in the future.
