It's January. The bleakest of the bleak Winter months. What
could cheer us up? Sleeping outside maybe?
Lauren: You want to go camping on Friday?
Me: Won't it be a little cold?
Lauren: Yes. That's why we're going to Arizona. Grand Canyon
to be more specific.
Me: Arizona? Have you ever been there before?
Lauren: No.
Me: Kay sure.
 |
| This was the group. And what a group it was. |
It's Friday. 4 o'clock. We plan to drive 8 hours and arrive
by midnight. We pack the car. Five freshmen. All with wads of cash in our hands
to stuff in Lauren's wallet because she was our designated keeper of the cash
(FORESHADOWING OF DISASTER RIGHT HERE).
4:15: Grocery shopping.
Everyone: How much food do you think we'll need?
Everyone else: A few pop tarts I think? Crackers and a loaf
of bread?
Everyone: Yeah.
4:30: We intend to fill up the car with gas. We realize the
wallet with our wads of cash in it is missing.
FRANTIC PACKING AND UNPACKING OF THE CAR WHILE SEARCHING
VARIOUS STREET GUTTERS.
5:30: We decide to leave anyway--minus $200. But full of optimism that we can make it work. We return to
the gas station. Car is full. We're on the road.
FACEBOOK MESSAGE ON LAUREN'S PHONE!
"Hey, I found your wallet. I'm at the SFH if you want
it."
REJOICING
LIKE UNTO THE RETURN OF A PRODIGAL CHILD.
Road trip officially commences as we exit Provo by way of
the I-15 freeway after picking up the wallet. Driving. More driving. Everyone
gains a new appreciation for the game 20 questions. Julia braids Lauren's hair into cornrows.
We all feel like closer friends after sharing the experience of seeing Lauren
look so ridiculous.
Unholy hour of the night o'clock: I get my first sight of the
natural wonder that is the Grand Canyon. My exhausted mind tries grasping at
words that I had never needed to use before to describe a thing so massive and
breathtaking.
Arriving at a campground we put forth our best effort to
find a perfect spot to sleep. This consists of sluggishly opening the car doors
and falling out of the vehicle onto the ground.
Everyone: This spot seems good.
Everyone else: Yeah. It doesn't even feel like it is a pile
of gravel or anything.
Next four hours: I am so cold I question all life
decisions that have lead me to this moment, and I begin contemplating what life
will be like without most of my toes.
MORNING COMES AT LAST AND WITH IT, WARMTH, AS WELL AS HOPE
OF A LIFE WITH ALL TEN TOES.
We hear footsteps approaching our tent.
Park Ranger: You can't have your tent right here. This is a
parking spot.
Us: Where can we put our tent?
Park Ranger: Literally anywhere else would be fine. Just not
this pile of rocks that we have designated for cars.
Obediently we move our tent.
Then breakfast on strawberry pop
tarts.
Everyone: Do you think we didn't plan well, food wise?
Everyone else: *changes the subject* Let's go for a quick
jaunt around this place. We can bring this single bag of wheat thins and be back in
time for lunch.
Everyone: Yeah.
We walk for hours down into the pinkish red walls that get
taller and taller as we walk further and further. We pass lots of hikers with
backpacks much bigger than ours.
Other hikers: You guys bring flashlights?
Us: No...We think we'll be done with the hike before lunch.
More hikers: You guys sleeping at the bottom?
Us: No...we think we'll be out of here by lunch.
We descend quicker and quicker until we reach a plateau. I run along the flat ground laughing at the
magnificence of the rocks around me. I'm running and then I stop. My laughter
stops. My breath stops. The plateau has fallen away. I see a river far below me. My four travelling
companions come up behind me and together we marvel. The canyon marvels back at
us. It joins us in our silent wondering that beauty exists and we were alive to experience it.
Long before wanting to, we begin our climb out of the
canyon. Two members of our group are capable of running mile times that were
believed to be impossible during my great-grandparents lifetime. They begin
running up the canyon, while the rest of us breath so loud we cause minor
seismic waves.
Us: Can we...gasp...take a...gasp... break now?
Jon and Trevor(the athletically inclined members of our
group): Oh yes, of course! We can stop now! Right after we round the next three
bends.
Us: *gasping dying breath sounds*
Due to divine providence, we survive the break neck pace we climbed
out of the canyon at. All fibers of my clothing are dripping with salty sweat.
Our only thought now is of food. Steak. And lots of it. We're going to a steak
house.
Lauren, in her rush to fill her stomach with large amounts
of cow meat, forgets about speedometers, and we have a nice chat with a police
officer who reminds us to drive 40 mph slower than we were driving. He reminds
us of this with a hefty fine from the state of Arizona.
Post chat with the less than forgiving policeman: We eat to
full capacity and pay a similar amount. The conversation turns to our strong
distaste of the idea of spending another night in the cold. We consider our
options.
1. Sleep in the bathroom
2. Drive to Las Vegas because #yolo
3. Split the cost of a hotel in a tiny town that is debatably "real"
All options are explored, but Option 3 is most promising.
Jon: *talking on phone* Do you have room for five people. I mean...What is the most amount of people
you have room for tonight.
Muffled voice of hotel receptionist: Four.
Jon: Oh yes, that's how many we have.
We are again on the road. After GPS technology fails to warn
of us several closed roads we realize, whether or not this hotel we are headed for actually exists, we will never know because reaching it is not a possibility for tonight.
Again: options are considered.
1. Pitch our tent somewhere in the unknown wilderness that
we are driving through.
2. Return to Provo. ETA 5 or 6 AM
We decide to make the drive back to the
land of the beardless and caffeine deprived. I am in the back for the rest of
the drive, drifting in and out of sleep.
When the car finally stops, I say
goodbye to my friends. First Trevor and Jon. Then Julia and Lauren. I crawl
into bed with the Arizona dirt still matted in my hair. I fall asleep to
the sweet smell of the sweat I had earned.
