[at-l] Grand Canyon Trip Report - Part 1

[Debbie_Smith@Millipore.com]

Hi guys,

Last week I spent a fantastic week hiking in the Grand Canyon with Bristlecone.
I had never even see the Canyon before, let alone hiked in the West so it was a
great experience for me.  I decided not to keep a regular journal on this hike,
but to leave the memories living in my mind.  While I was out there I just wrote
down some basic impressions I had, so I wanted to post them.  And now that I'm
back I thought I'd make an attempt at a trip report too.  It's for 8 days so
it's a bit long so I'll send it in 3 parts.  Mostly it's just feelings.


FIRST IMPRESSIONS

Red rock, blue sky, green river.  The colors assault my eyes.  The vastness
cannot be explained, for that would imply we could harness it with mere words
and place it neatly on paper.  The emptiness sucks the soul from my body until I
too, am empty; a vessel, waiting.  And the rock, which appears lifeless, is
merely a shield which hides myriad life from the undiscerning eye, and yet
discloses all to those who truly look.  The wind carries the voice of the
Canyon.  It is all around me.  Soon it will be in me.


NIGHT COMES

A light breeze stirs and the cottonwood leaves shimmer and dance.  The river
rushes noisily by, too hurried to do anything but chatter as it plunges on.  A
mule brays in the background.  A deer pushes through the brush near camp,
searching for tender young shoots.  Night comes and people huddle together,
feeling safe and warm and strong in their numbers - knowing in reality they are
small and powerless in this place; knowing they are here through sufferance of
the spirits but not really welcome.  Most of them do not belong - they are
merely tolerated; except those few who make peace and become part of the weave
of this incredible fabric.  A raven caws - is he scolding?  Or merely asking
what we're doing, we silly people, in his place?  "Nevermind" he says.  He
watches and waits as the night creeps in on cat's paws, hushing voices, stilling
movement.  When the Raven leaves I see nothing; I hear only the sound of the
wind in his feathers.


THE ROCK

The landscape is new to my eyes and causes ancient rustlings in my soul.  Yes,
there are the vistas, the rivers, the plants.  But more than that- everywhere
there is the Rock.  It is a living, breathing being.  It looms over me, casts
it's shadow to cool me - or chill me depending on it's mood.  It is red and
yellow and golden.  It is tall and powerful.  At times it leans toward me,
towering over me.  Other times it stands stark and still, proud in it's
heritage.  Yes the Rock is everywhere.  It fills my sight and my mind and my
dreams.  It whispers in my ears as I sleep and tells me of the ancient things it
knows.  It tells of the ocean that once flowed here; of the sea creatures that
touched it's surface.  It tells of the river that cut it and of the wind that
scars it.  It tells of a time when man did not exist, but it was there as it is
now, old even then.  And I know it will be here when we have gone; centuries
after we have left this Earth completely, the Rock will remain.


CASTLES

Who has built these castles here?  I walk near them, hushed in their shadows.
Standing below them I feel small and insignificant.  Their huge walls stand in
the sun like monoliths.  Yes, I am small.  Man has tried so hard to build things
like these castles but our best work still pales next to Mother Nature's.  I
wish to capture the presence I feel here, to share overwhelming strength, and
power and wonder that creeps in from these castles of rock.  But I know I cannot
capture these things with words or pictures.  Nevertheless, these things enter
me and become a part of me.

Who has built these castles here?  And who will live in them?  Spirits?  Yes.
Nomads?  Maybe.  Things I cannot see, but know are there.  They are here.  Who
will live in these castles?  I wish it could be me, for I know somehow that I
could be happy here.

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I'll send the 'real' trip report in 2 parts.

Twilight


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