August 28,2020
Went from Page towards the north rim of the Grand Canyon. The high desert road leading to Jacob Lake (where there is no lake) was twisty and full of dust I gladly swallowed. Vermillion cliffs were sparse of vermillion but I could see some. In retrospect it was spectacular. I expect a variation of that landscape will return to me in my dreams. Looking forward to having my brain reimagine it.
A twisty road took me higher to a plateau which lead to a pine forest and finally Jacob Lake. I camped there ($30) and ate the Special burger ($13) which sadly proved to be mediocre. I don’t really give a shit about the grand canyon. A moto guy I met that day persuaded me to go to the canyon despite my misgivings. In the fullness of time I couldn’t argue against it. It’s big. And of any place, the north rim might be the best place to view the canyon from above. The road had a limited selection of trees, both deciduous and conifer but it was chill.
When I got there I sat on a bench overlooking the canyon, drinking more and more water when I heard someone say "Nice Guzzi." I wasn’t feeling especially sociable but I looked up and saw an elderly man with a face full of character. We struck up a convo and he was actually worth talking to. I think he felt the opposite about me after 10 minutes. I mentioned camping in John Day, Oregon and he went on about working there as a young man and mused about how he misses the northwest. Moving to the mexico/arizona border sucks according to him. The heat never lets up, plus rattlers are bothering his dog all the time. We discussed Monument Valley. I brought up many great films shot there. He found our talk tiresome and left. I left moments later.
What the fuck was I thinking? The Grand Canyon is the Grand Fucking Canyon. How could I think of skipping out on the Canyon? Sometimes I wonder, where are my priorities? 
No comments:
Post a Comment