ARIZONA - The Grand Canyon

"Leave it as it is," implored Teddy Roosevelt during a 1903 visit to the canyon. "You cannot improve upon it. The ages have been at work on it, and man can only mar it."



The last and only time (before this time) I'd been to the Grand Canyon was around 1984. That time, it was a brief stop at the North Rim, as our dysfunctional group (Dad, Carolyn, her two young kids (Erica and Chuckie), and myself) were crossing the country to the "Greater Los Angeles" area of California.

Dad's girlfriend had just purchased a full-size two-tone Dodge window van with "Sundance" emblazoned across the side of it - and was intent on chauffeuring us all to the west coast. So we could be dysfunctional there too, I suppose. She had my full attention as she was boasting about the journey we were about to embark upon - as if it were a pilgrimage to Mecca - that absolutely had to be experienced by everyone at some point in their life. She was right, of course. That would be her second extended journey west.

When my dad took her to see the van, and saw "Sundance" scripted along the back of it, he quickly agreed - to the van, and the pilgrimage.

You see, he had bought my Mom an Arabian Stallion years ago, which she still owned at that time (and until her death), and they had named him "Sundance".

- Sundance and Dad .... having a playful dance.



So, in Dad's perpetual state of drug and alcohol induced delirium, he saw it as an absolute omen. He marveled at the fate.

I'd already dropped out (9th grade) of school. Dad and I were not supposed to (legally) even see each other after the ugly divorce was finalized between him and my mother. He was a dangerous man, and definately not fit to be a responsible parent. Essentially, we were on the run, so it was perfect, or so I thought in my youthful ignorance. Those days we were completely "Off The Grid". No address, no phones, intermittent jobs for Dad, no school, no computers - no way to be reached. As dysfunctional as we were, compared to today's smothering world, it was absolute freedom, and while often a daily struggle, a sense of naturalness and liberation was felt. Life was real and raw. So there was that.

Let me tell you, life was never boring traveling in that caravan. I'll give you a for instance: Along the way, while stopping in the "Twin Cities" of Minneapolis-Saint Paul, Dad snuck off and found a watering hole, without telling anyone. The streets and sidewalks were bustling with activity so it took his girlfriend a couple of hours to find him, as her kids and I sat in the van patiently waiting. Man, she was stressed and simmering with indignation. He was always pulling antics such as this. She finally found him in a nearby bar, throwing (her) money around while convincing all of the patrons that he was running for mayor. She said, "He had them all worked up; he was enthusiastically going on about making changes for the better and doing things for the common people". He was incredibly charasmatic and fearless. This coupled with his all too often heightened euphoric state made him very dangerous - and a pain in the ass to deal with.

This time, some thirty-three years later, I'd visit the South Rim, by motorcycle, solo, and on my own terms. Perfect. The day after Easter. With fantastic weather.

As I followed the road in - the landscape off to my right started to change drastically.



Shortly after entering the park I came across the Desert View visitor center and Watchtower. I'd spend the most time here.



The 70-foot tower was something unique and creates an illusion of age; when in reality, it is a concrete and steel reinforced superstructure with an applied veneer of native stone creating the desired effect of a structure rising from the canyon.



The tower was built in 1932 and combines the finest examples of Indian designs and masonry found in the southwest. Ancient towers serving as models for the Desert View Watch Tower were probably used by their builders for protection and storage of food. There are also indications that stone towers were used by aboriginal priests for making astronomical observations.







Back on the road, I would stop along most of the scenic turn-outs for quick glimpses and photographs, but I wouldn't linger too long. To be honest, as much as I love these epic locations and long to experience them, the crowds kind of kill it for me. The essence seems lost. The depth that is contained within remoteness and solitude, void of too many people, speaks to me the strongest. I'd really just as well be traversing the desert. Later in the year on a subsequent trip to the Northwest, the crowds were so thick in Yellowstone National Park, that I completely bailed from there and instead (of continuing with what was beginning to feel like a superficial or hollow experience) headed for Beartooth Highway. Up there I was instantly transformed - from irritated to inspired.

- A grand view of the Grand Canyon.

1. 

Thanks to the 6,000-foot elevation difference between the Colorado River and the North Rim, the canyon boasts five of North America's seven "life zones" - more than any other national park.

In latitudinal terms, it's the equivalent of walking from the deserts of Northern Mexico to the boreal regions of Canada, all in the span of little more than a vertical mile. 



Along one stretch of the central Grand Canyon, the deepest part of the inner gorge is composed of rock formed some 1.7 billion years ago.

Before heading south on Route 64, this large Elk was found lingering near the shoulder of the road, while munching on dry grass.