On the road: A trip through the desert

Ashes. That’s what could have been in the box held by the mysteriously quiet stranger I recently sat next to on an airplane. 

The suggestion was made by my mother after reading last week’s feature. (In the paper of course. In the world of writing, you can’t afford to offer a family discount.) That could explain it all: the man’s solemn attitude, his lack of interest in what was happening around him and the focused stewardship of the parcel. Possibly he was on a mission to fulfill the last wishes of the dearly departed, traveling to the American desert to spread the remains in a sacred or beloved place. 

There are few places as interesting and awe inspiring as the desert. It’s no wonder that the Native Americans held such places in high regard. With its steep mountains and barren valleys, the terrain has almost magical effects on the body, though it could just be the elevation changes messing with the oxygen levels in the brain.  

Enduring the heat and seeing the various cactus and scrub plants that thrive in a place that looks like another planet, especially coming from an area where everything is green, is a great reminder of the grit of America’s early people and the first explorers who staked out a living in a place where few people could. It’s also a good reminder of how easy we have it now. I’ll cross the desert in a rented car over a covered wagon any day. 

It was a dance convention for my daughter that made us modern-day pioneers headed west for adventure, but no stop in Arizona is complete without visiting the Grand Canyon. So after enduring an early morning flight, fueled by caffeine and those little cookies that Delta hands out, I loaded my family into a metal prairie schooner and made the near-four hour trek north to the Grand Canyon National Park. We stopped for the night in the town of Williams at a motel on historic Route 66. I had seen the canyon before, but the rest of my crew had not, and I wanted them rested and refreshed to see the spectacle. 

One of the seven wonders of the natural world, the Grand Canyon is a sight to behold, and it’s hard to find the words to describe it. You must see it to believe it. Imagine God himself jabbed his finger in the earth and dug a hole along the surface, leaving something behind that is both fearsome and beautiful. 

Now imagine traveling such a great distance to see something so majestic and your family being completely dysfunctional the whole time. The kids bickered, my wife, with a fear of heights, was worried the entire time that one of us was, despite complying with all warnings to stay away from unguarded canyon edges, going to fall to our demise, and I made things no better, well, by not doing anything to make things better. 

Those pioneers had it so easy. 

I tried to steal away for a moment of solitude and serenity, which was ruined by other tourists crawling out to the canyon’s dangerous jagged edge for the perfect photo for their social media.       

We left the park hot and tired. It was not quite the experience I had hoped for, but I wouldn’t do it with anyone else. I understand the dance convention will be back in Phoenix in a couple of years, so we’ll try again then. 

The Grand Canyon will always be there, but I only have a little time to spend with my family.