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! |
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.



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