Postby The Dirt » Sun Jul 12, 2015 12:51 am
The plane descent into Vegas sucked. They called it 'turbulence' though the weather was beautiful, and the plane was pitching and rising, rolling left and right 20 degrees, shaking and yawing, and several people had to avail themselves of their barf bags. It was unpleasant in the extreme, and I wouldn't have thought a jet that large could be thrown around like that without breaking a wing or throwing an engine, and it seemed that pilot was revving and throttling down for all he was worth, to compensate. I'm taking a f*cking bus home.
The drive north from Vegas was stunning. Having only lived in NJ and PA, and only traveling up and down the east coast, I was completely unprepared for the sheer size and magnitude and desolation of this part of the American west. But for the short scrubby brush, the only thing I have seen, to compare, is Mars, as seen through any of he rovers, rock and sand and gully and hill and scree. Up Rt. 15, the road went through a narrow canyon, as yet unknown to me by name, so steep and sheer and magnificent that we were all dumbstruck. I had absolutely no frame of reference in my 66 years that might have prepared me for this, hence my theft of the quote by Samuel Morse, because I had no words that sufficed, in my vocabulary, and I'm rarely at a loss for words.
And then today, we spent the entire day in Zion Canyon, which thoroughly and utterly dwarfed the first one. I was stunned anew. Cut through a plateau by the Virgin River, it had thousand foot walls of layered sedimentary rock laid down by some prehistoric ocean that even God would have to stop to remember, rock seemingly from the very basements of time and Earth itself, surely prior to any gleam in God's eye to consider putting Life on his planet. It puts mankind's greatest cathedrals and prideful buildings and monuments to utter shame and embarassment, and it took no imagination whatsoever to grok why Native Americans called this Holy Ground. Pictures are wholly inadequate, which stopped me not at all from taking hundreds. Never in my entire life have I felt so pitifully small and insignificant. Call me a rube, but I spent the entirety of the day awestruck, this canyon so huge and impossibly beautiful that to look up at its walls left me feeling dizzy, disoriented.
Tomorrow, Bryce Canyon, and hoodoos, and another day of vertigo.
Wouldn't miss it for the world.