After nearly a week spent in Arizona, the end of my vacation looming not far into the future, I finally had the chance to experience the state for the beautiful place it is.
Our destination today was Sedona. My dad and I got up early again to run before the heat of the day hit. After the workout, we enjoyed coffees and breakfast as a family, and then we headed out to embark upon our adventure.
Sedona is over two hours away from where Bev and Gus live, so the drive was a tad long and hot. Jake and I passed the time by playing a version of the alphabet game, which managed to entertain us for the majority of the ride.
“Don’t miss out on the scenery,” Bev called out jokingly. The barren red landscape changed minimally over the course of the trip.
However, as we got closer to Sedona, our surroundings did become more appealing. Large rock formations grew from the ground and stretched up towards the sky. We gained over 4,000 feet in elevation during our drive.
The temperature in Sedona was 10 degrees cooler than it was in Sun City. When I first learned this, I thought it would provide a great relief after days 100-plus degree weather. However, upon arrival, I realized that 10 degrees does not feel all that different when the temperature is still over 90 degrees.
All of us in Coyote Canyon – from left to right: Dad, Jake, me, Bev, Gus, and Mom
We ate a quick lunch and then walked to Pink Adventure Tours. Bev had signed us up for a Coyote Canyons Pink Jeep Tour, one of the moderate (which means not too bumpy) canyon drives. After receiving our bubblegum pink wristbands, we walked to the parking lot where there were multiple bright pink jeeps lined up beside one another. Our tour guide, Ryan, has been working for Pink Jeep Tours for 12 years, since the economic crash in 2008. He grew up in California, where he had worked in carpentry. When he lost his job, his parents suggested he turn his hobbies of Jeep driving and dirt bike-riding into a career, so he moved to Arizona and got the job he has now. The unfortunate thing, he said, was that, after spending so many of his days driving through the canyons, his hobbies no longer felt like fun past times. He just sold his last dirt bike a few weeks ago.
Ryan was a fantastic tour guide. He gave us the perfect blend of information and humor to make the tour fun and educational. It was a bumpy ride – the jeep tires, which were over half my height, climbed over boulders and down treacherous rocky trails, throwing us against our tightened seat belts. There were quite a few times that I held my breath, expecting the vehicle to tip, but Ryan was an expert driver who kept us safe.
As we rode, we admired the layers of red, white and brown on the canyon walls, formed over hundreds of years of different environments. Ryan stopped the jeep near an old, log cabin built by Earl Van Deren for him and his new bride in the 1890s. Walking up to that house, sweat pouring down my face, I could not imagine how anyone survived that long ago without air conditioning.
The Van Deren cabin
The jeep tour lasted two hours, but it felt much shorter. The good news is that, while it was fascinating and the views were beautiful, I don’t think any of us wanted the tour to last much longer. By the end, our pants were soaked with sweat as if we had been swimming, and we were all tired and thirsty from the heat.
We stopped at the gift shop for some souvenirs and then headed to Old Town Cottonwood, a small town not far from Sedona. The main street was quaint and alluring, but most of the shops were closed due to the novel coronavirus. Instead of walking the street, we went to Colt Grill, where we bought drinks to cool off. Bev and I each ordered a glass of wine, Gus and Dad ordered local beers, and Mom ordered a prickly pear margarita, one of the house specials.
Just before purchasing, a kind man seated at the bar announced that he would pay for our drinks. This was exceedingly generous considering how many of us there were. We thanked him profusely, but he shrugged us off. He told us he hated the racial tensions happening in the country right now, and he wanted to show us that there were no ill feelings between any of us.
Now, with our heads light on our shoulders from such a pleasant interaction (and the alcohol in our systems), we headed to where we wanted to eat. Rock Springs Cafe, which happens to be the oldest, independently owned restaurant still serving customers in Arizona, was one of very few buildings situated on a small exit off the highway. It consisted of a Mom and Pop-style store, a saloon, and the cafe, which was where the restaurant dining was located. The cuisine was homestyle comfort food, which, of course, wasn’t fancy, but it was delicious and filling after a long day. Our waitress was as sweet as the pies she served us. We ordered a rhubarb strawberry pie and a Jack Daniels pecan pie to bring home and enjoy with ice cream.
When we finally did arrive back at the house, Gus pointed out that we had been on our adventure for 11 hours, which explained the drawn looks on our reddened faces. The pie, however, brightened our spirits immediately. We sat at the table, laughing, talking and, once again, savoring the beauty of finally being able to spend time with one another.
Drinking at Colt Grill – from left to right: Bev, Gus, Mom, me, Jake, and Dad
This trip has been almost entirely about visiting family, which I could not be happier about. After about a decade since I have seen my relatives, it has been a true blessing to be reunited with them once again. Today, however, it was fun to experience Arizona for the amazing place that it is, to eat at a restaurant that only the locals know, and to travel a little out of our comfort zones to have a new experience we will never forget.
Even on relaxing vacations, it can’t hurt to have just a little taste of adventure sprinkled in.
The sunshine filtered through the car windows, gentle caressing my eyes open. I sat in my sleeping bag in the car at the same time Joseph sat in his hammock outside. We looked at each other, smiled, and then simultaneously began to pack our belongings.
We packed up the car and drove to a nearby gas station to get ready for the day. It was the nicest gas station restroom I have ever been in, with flowers and artwork to look at while I went to the bathroom.
We drove next to the auto shop just before it opened. While we waited for the car to be fixed, we decided to walk around town. There wasn’t much to look at or shops to visit; it definitely was not a tourist destination, but we had fun anyway. We turned off the road when we saw greenery, assuming it would lead us to a park. Instead, we found ourselves in a sculpture garden behind a church. The path led us in a circle around the garden. The statues adorning the path told the story of Jesus’ death. At the end, three wooden crosses sat on top of pile of boulders, and in front of this, three rocks had been used to form the empty tomb.
While walking, Joseph and I began to talk about the validity of Christianity, what we believe and what others we know believe. Is the Bible truth, or just stories designed to teach morals? The Bible was inspired by God but written by man, so how do we know what was truly ordained by God and what were the musings of man?
“Even if I can’t prove the Bible is true, I know the change that has happened inside me,” Joseph said. “Do you think any other religion has that kind of transformation?” I thought about this for a second. So often, Joseph and I have spiritual conversations like this, where we attempt to tackle concepts far too complex for the human brain to ever comprehend. Despite the fact that we will never truly know the answers our questions, we still enjoy sharing our thoughts and coming to places of respect and understanding for each other’s beliefs.
Personally, I believe there is validity in other world religions. The idea of Christianity is that Jesus is the only way to be saved, and that is the thought I have always grown up with. But I don’t want to place human limits on my greater-than-human God. The idea that God would send some of his beloved children to hell, especially those who never have the chance to get to know Jesus, is something I have always wrestled with. Deep inside me, I know there must be much more to this story of creation, the universe, and God’s relationship with us than I will ever know. And that’s okay, because my only responsibility is to love others as best I can, not to solve the existential questions of life.
“Every religion and deeply held belief creates transformation inside us,” I said to answer Joseph’s question. “It’s not just Christianity. I mean, we want answers to existential questions, so anything that fills that hole, we cling to. That’s how cults happen. We can become so attached to an idea that we’re willing to go through terrible things and endure mental trauma. It’s the whole ‘drink the kool aid’ situation where people are willing to take their own lives because of how much they believe something and because they think it will give them salvation. But, I think the difference of Christianity is that it requires nothing of you. A lot of religions and beliefs have stipulations and rules about how to reach salvation, but in Christianity, it’s already been done for you. You don’t need to do anything. And that makes a difference, because if you’re required to love others, it’s not really love. Love has to be a choice. But in Christianity, because God loves you so much, you want to love others, and I think that is what is so transformational.”
“This is a pretty radical idea, but, what if we are all already saved, and we are just supposed to spread the message of peace and loving yourself,” Joseph asked. “Because, that’s what Christianity does. It shows you that you are loved and you don’t have to do anything to achieve that. You already have it. What if Jesus did the work to save all of us, whether we know him or not? But life is better if you do know him because then you have that message of rest and love in your life. And that’s all anyone wants – to be loved and accepted as they are and to be told they don’t have to try so hard.”
One of the first things that made me sure that Joseph was the person I was going to marry was that our beliefs were so similar. We both define ourselves as more spiritual than religious, which, on our third date, Joseph gave the perfect definition for: Religion is how much you know about God; spirituality is how much you know God. We both were raised Christian, but we like to explore the possibilities of other beliefs, because without knowing what other thoughts exist, how can you know what you truly believe? But what I love most about what Joseph believes is that his priority, like mine, is just loving other people and accepting them as they are. And the way we both know how to do that best is to accept and remember God’s love for us. We do that in tradition of Christianity because that’s what we know, but when other people have other ways of knowing God, we embrace that, too. As deep as our conversations may go, we always come back to that: To be loved and to love others is why we are here and what we are meant to do in this life.
We continued our walk, and we found a sign about a yard sale. Since we still had not heard from the auto shop, we went to check it out and found a great deal on a French press. Our morning coffee is about to get so much better.
Since it had been nearly two hours at this point, we headed back to the auto shop to see how things were going. Unfortunately, we found out that the shop did not have the right size break pads, so they had to get them from somewhere else. It was another hour before the car was ready, during which we waited in the shop, zoning out on our phones.
We still hadn’t eaten a real breakfast, so we ate some cereal at the car and then stopped by a Dunkin’ for coffee because, as Joseph said, “We deserve it after that wait.” At the early hour of noon, we finally got started on our driving for the day.
Our first stop was the Colorado National Monument. Both of us are growing tired of seeing canyons (we both enjoy the mountains more), but I’m glad we decided to go to the monument. Instead of just standing above looking down, there were different levels to the canyon, so there were points where we could gaze up at the red rock and actually admire all the details that we would normally miss. We picnicked at one of the scenic points, and then drove through the rest of the monument, stopping along the way to take pictures and admire the scenery. One of my favorite points was when we were able to see where water normally flows through the canyon because it was the only spot where green trees were growing. They wound alongside the snake-like path where the water sometimes flows, soaking up the nutrients from the ground. As I stepped closer to the edge to admire this, I looked down, and my stomach dropped. It was a straight fall down hundreds of feet into the canyon.
“If you fell, you would for sure die,” I told Joseph, who was just behind me.
“Yeah, please don’t say that,” Joseph said, grabbing onto the back of my shirt and pulling me away from the edge as if he had me on a leash. “Let’s back up a bit.”
After the monument, we drove to Aspen. It was stunning how fast the scenery changed. From red and brown rock, the landscape faded in almost an instant to tall, pine-covered mountains and clear, blue lakes. Both of us were excited for our first true hike in the mountains, something we had been looking forward to for all of this trip. We wound so far into the trees on the way to Maroon Bells, the signals were lost on our phones, but we enjoyed the moment just to be present in the beauty surrounding us.
We arrived at the entrance to the park, where the woman asked us if we had a reservation. We did not. Because of COVID-19, everyone needed a reservation to enter the park. The woman directed us to a website we could try to find a slot of time on, but when we finally drove to where we had service again to check, we found that all the slots were taken until ten o’clock tonight, which was much too late to hike.
“I thought you checked on all the places to see if we needed reservations,” Joseph said, confused.
“I did,” I said. “This was one of the places you added last minute, after I checked all the parks.”
“Yeah, and I asked you to check on the park to make sure we could get in,” Joseph said.
“You did,” I asked. “I thought you were going to that.”
“No, I asked you to do it,” Joseph repeated.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you,” I said. “I really thought you had checked it.”
“It’s okay,” Joseph said, but I could tell he was disappointed. We both were. “I should have checked in with you,” Joseph continued, but I couldn’t help but feel mad at myself. We started our drive back, silent and upset, when Joseph spotted a different trail head. He proposed doing a different hike, so we parked close by and approached the trail. When Joseph looked it up on his phone, we discovered it was a seven-mile round-trip hike – a bit ambitious for five o’clock in the afternoon. But fueled by our disappointment about the last hike, we packed our bag with snacks and started the trail.
Near the beginning, we met up with some locals, who informed us that the trail was not the one we originally thought it was. It was a much shorter hike, but still with some nice views of the lake. Now doubly disappointed about our two failed hikes, we were pretty quiet while walking. It seemed Joseph was blaming himself just as much as I was, because after minutes of hiking in silence, he asked if I was upset with him.
“No, I just…we’ve been to a lot of canyons, and we have a lot more planned for this trip, and I am kind of over canyons,” I said.
“Well, Tyler, you want to know something funny,” Joseph asked. “I am kind of over canyons, too. I want to be in the mountains. So, why don’t we just change our plan a bit?”
The idea of changing the plan mid-trip was pretty anxiety inducing for me, but after some more talk, we decided to just add in some time at the mountains in Frisco and Boulder, two places we were already planning on stopping, and then possibly doing some more activities around Denver. We have an extra day planned into our trip because we couldn’t get reservations for Rocky Mountain National Park, a place we had planned on visiting, so we have the time to add in some extra activities at our planned stops.
After talking more, we also came to the conclusion that it was probably best that we hadn’t known about the reservations at Maroon Bells. If we had, we probably would have missed our time slot because of our car appointment this morning. And if we had decided to not make reservations, we would have missed the beautiful view we experienced on our drive in.
On our way out, we discovered another blessing in disguise caused by missing both hikes in Aspen: our next stop was Independence Pass, which was the scariest road either of us had ever driven on. We were both relieved to be traveling it before the sun went down.
At the beginning of the pass, we took a quick detour to visit the grottos, which were more than worth it. The park featured three attractions: the ice caves, the grottos, and the cascades. At the beginning of the trail, we reached the ice caves, which are exactly what they sound like. We climbed down the rocks to the caves to find blocks of ice as big as boulders dripping into a small stream. Joseph climbed up the ice, his feet slipping and sliding, to get a better view. The cave was cool and quiet, so randomly placed in the middle of the woods, a little winter wonderland hidden away from the summer heat just above.
We accidentally took the wrong trail, so we hit the cascades next. The water pounding down the rocks could be heard far before we actually saw the waterfalls. We sat on the rocks above and gazed down at the powerful water, observing with interest how something so gentle and life-giving could also be so strong and dangerous.
We nearly missed the grottos. We stumbled upon them on the way back. What appeared first to be a pile of rocks blocking our path were actually the entrance into the tunnels formed by fallen boulders haphazardly piled on top of one another. We climbed slowly and carefully over the rocks, hoping we had not taken a wrong turn as the path became more treacherous with every step. To our relief, after about ten minutes of hiking, the rocks dwindled away and the dirt path replaced them once again.
The sun was setting in the distance, so we hurried back to our car and continued our drive along Independence Pass. We drove slowly, letting cars with more experienced Colorado drivers pass us whenever we could. Looking over the cliff edge just inches from our car tires was enough to make my heart rate spike. I cringed as Joseph hugged the tight curves of the road that took us up and down the intimidating mountain path.
The view, however, was incredible. I couldn’t help but look out my window to admire the snow-capped mountains resting beneath the half moon. We were so high in the air that we were looking down on puffy, blue clouds floating beneath the peaks.
It was quickly becoming another late night, so we settled on the first campsite we found. It was a bit crowded and the people just beside us were a tad noisy, but at this point, anywhere where we could set up our sleeping bags and eat a meal was good enough for us. While Joseph set up the tent, I made dinner. The weather had cooled considerably, so we ate inside the tent, huddled in our warmest jackets and sweatpants.
Despite the late hour and chilly weather, Joseph still insisted we take a quick walk to admire the stars. Looking up at the night sky, I was once again struck by just how vast and beautiful this universe is. The amount of detail in the night sky, and honestly everything we saw today, is actually boggling. I could have spent hours at any one of the places we visited today, observing every small feature of the landscape, and I still don’t think I would have noticed everything there is to see. We live in a truly beautiful world, in an incomprehensible magnificent universe.
There are so many questions I cannot answer about life, religion, God, creation, and honestly so many other things. I am normally someone who likes to know as many facts as I can. I fill my head with random information to share at any moment, like the fact that the stars above me tonight are made mostly of hydrogen and helium, or that the Rocky Mountains that stretch from Canada to New Mexico have their highest peak right here in Colorado. But I think my spirituality is the one area I am okay with not knowing everything because that is what faith is truly about. In order to believe something, you have to be willing accept the possibility that you could be wrong, and still jump in with both feet and not look back.
And as for my personal faith, there are two things I know for sure that give me all the comfort in the unknown that I need. First, I know my God is loving, because how could anyone create something so beautiful without doing so lovingly? And second, that my God is so much grander and more complicated than any human brain could ever comprehend. So, I know no matter what happens in my life, and after my life, no matter whether it makes sense to me or not, I know He has it worked out for good.
Yesterday was not the quintessential Colorado morning I was expecting, and I can’t say this morning was either. There is something strange about waking up in a tent in the middle of the woods, listening to the gentle mooing of cows. But the cool morning air and the mountains in the distance are a step in the right direction.
Joseph and I packed up our campsite and drove to Mesa Verde for an early morning hike. Unfortunately, most of the trails were closed because of COVID-19 or the fire hazard. We found one loop trail that was supposed to lead us around the canyons and give a spectacular view of the cave dwellings, but halfway through, we came up to a sign that prohibited us from going any farther. Disappointed, we turned around and walked back the way we came.
Despite this, the view was still astounding. From a distance, we looked out over the canyons to the homes carved into the rock. People are truly incredible. I can only imagine what it would have been like to build and live in those homes, with the risk of falling down the side of the canyon always a real possibility and living in a tight community where everyone worked together. As far as society has come since then, I can’t help but wonder if we have lost something.
When we returned to the car, we ate a quick breakfast and then headed to a nearby gas station. The tire pressure warning light in the car has been repeatedly appearing, despite Joseph filling the tires with air daily. When he checked the tire pressure today, the amount of air in the front left tire was alarmingly low.
“I just filled it last night,” Joseph said. “There must be a hole.”
So, in addition to the failing breaks, damaged rotors, and cracked windshield, we now have a hole in one of our tires. Because of the amount of driving we plan on doing tomorrow, we decided it best to get the tire, along with the breaks and rotors, fixed today. Luckily, our next stop was the main street in Telluride, so we planned to drop the car off in the town while we walked around.
While Joseph filled the tires with air to get us to our next destination, I went into the store to buy ice for our cooler. The bags of ice I saw in the freezer all looked a little too big, so I went to the cashier, a small woman with long brown hair and impeccable eyebrows, to ask if there were any other sizes available.
“No, just the eight pound bag,” she told me. “Do you have a small cooler?”
“Yeah, I just don’t think it will fit,” I said.
“Would you want half a bag,” she asked.
“Actually, yes, that would be great.”
“I have a small cooler and I do the same thing for me,” she said. “And I won’t charge you for it.”
“Oh, really,” I asked. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you.” The cashier shrugged it off.
“Oh, it’s no problem,” she said. “The full bag is only four dollars, so there’s really no point in charging you. Just give me a minute.” She tended to other customers waiting in line, and then she went into the back room, grabbed a fresh bag, and shoveled ice into it from a machine. After thanking her again, I excitedly presented the gift to Joseph, and then we were on our way to our next destination.
It was almost a two hour drive to Telluride, but after sitting in the car for days, the trip flew by as if we were just driving down the block. We stopped a few minutes outside of the main town to drop off our car at Telluride Tire and Auto Service. The owner, Stuart, told Joseph that it would be about an hour, so instead of going into town, he recommended a scenic spot where we could eat lunch. Joseph and I packed some food, and we walked a short distance to a nearby baseball field adjacent to a clear, blue lake. We sat on one of the benches and gazed up at the snow-capped mountains just a few miles away.
When we arrived back at the auto shop, we enjoyed a cup of complimentary coffee while waiting to be seen. When Stuart was ready, he delivered both good and bad news: The leak in our tire was fixed, but our brakes were not capable of bringing us safely home. He himself did not have the parts to fix them, but he asked where we were headed and then personally called mechanics in that area for us to find out who had the parts and could work on our car first thing tomorrow morning.
I am not sure we would have had any luck had we not had Stuart’s help. He had personal relationships with the owners and managers of each of the places he called, so we were able to get an appointment with a trusted mechanic when the shop opened tomorrow. And once securing us with that appointment after nearly half an hour of calling other shops, he told us that he was not going to charge us for the tire plug, nor the hour of labor he put in to fix it. We were stunned by his generosity and thanked him profusely, but he shrugged us off just as the cashier did earlier today. He said that his shop fixes tires for free for people passing through all the time.
“I believe in karma,” he said. “Years ago, my wife was driving to Oregon, and her water pump broke in Idaho. A farmer pulled over on the side of the road and told her that his son had an auto shop. He took her there and fixed her pump for free. I have never forgotten that.”
We thanked Stuart again, and then we left to continue our drive into Telluride. We passed through the main town, searching for what we were most excited about: The gondola ride. We continued down the windy road until it ended, sure at this point that we were driving in the wrong direction. However, the mountains ahead kept us going. We parked and took a few minutes just to take in the beauty of the giants towering above us. A waterfall cascaded down the side of the rock, and beside it, just like in Disney and Pixar’s “Up,” was a house sitting on top of the mountain.
As we drove back toward Telluride’s main street, Joseph spotted the gondola cables stretching up the side of the mountain. We parked in Telluride, and while Joseph paid, I ran to save our spot in line, which stretched down the sidewalk from the entrance. Luckily, the line moved quickly, and soon we were in our own little compartment, floating into the sky, watching the shops and homes grow smaller beneath us. The gondola climbed through tall white trees and over trails that wound down the mountainside, where people were biking. At the top, Joseph and I stared at the mountains in awe. This was the Colorado we had been dreaming of seeing.
We exited the gondola at the mountain market, a small town that had the feel of an amusement park main square. Despite the fact that people actually did live on the ski resort, the way the buildings were designed to match and connect with one another made it almost seem like a facade. I kept waiting for the people in costume to come out dancing.
We dipped into a couple of shops, including one filled with animal photographs, paintings, and figurines created from of rope, wire and beads. An older woman with a foreign accent I couldn’t quite identify sat behind a desk at the front of the shop, books filled with photographs of African animals in front of her. She informed us that everything in the shop was created in South Africa, and all of the proceeds were used to help save the elephants and rhinos.
Elephants are my favorite animal, so obviously I couldn’t stop myself from supporting this cause. I selected a small, beaded, elephant figurine who was in mid-trumpet. The woman behind the desk informed us that she was from South Africa, and she worked with Peace Parks Foundation, an organization that fights to keep the animals in Africa safe. She works particularly with elephants and rhinos.
“Did you know that 57 percent of the world’s species are extinct, and that happened in just the last forty years,” she asked us. “We need young people like you to help. If you have the chance to put a signature on something, sign it. And if you can volunteer, do it. It’s not easy work, but once you go to Africa, you aren’t ever going to want to come back.”
The view of the mountain market from the gondola
She grabbed a documentary off a nearby stack of DVDs, peeled the price tag off of it, and handed it to me.
“This is for you to watch,” she said. “It’s not pretty, but it’s factual, and it’s important.” I promised her I would watch it, and Joseph and I left with moods slightly dampened but adventures still to have for the day. I will have to research more about Peace Parks later. I have always wanted to go to South Africa, but circumstance has kept me here in the United States. However, perhaps I can find other ways to help support this cause.
Joseph and I rode the gondola back to the main street of Telluride to explore those shops. We bought some Belgian chocolate to enjoy for dessert and another post card to commemorate our experience. Then we returned to our car to start the drive to Black Canyon.
By now, it was getting to late, but we were determined to do at least a short hike in the canyons before the sun set. Just twenty minutes away from our destination, we stopped at a Walmart to pick up a few essentials. As we stepped out of the car, I gazed out at the black clouds in the distance and inquired about the weather.
“I was thinking about that, too,” Joseph said. “But I checked the weather and it said it is supposed to be clear all night.” We went into the store to pick up food and super glue for the crack in the windshield. As we approached the checkout, Joseph received a text from his mom, asking about how the weather was and where we were located. We bought our supplies and then headed to the doors, where we stopped in shock. In the short time that we had been in the store, the world had gone dark and the trees were bent sideways from the power of the wind.
We hurried to the car, where we checked the weather on our phones again, but the app still said the it was supposed to be clear all night. We decided to head to Black Canyon to see if the weather blew over, and if not, we would head straight to the campsite.
By the time we arrived at the national park, the weather seemed to have calmed. The wind was still heavy, but the skies had cleared a bit. The air had cooled considerably, so we put on jackets and sweatpants and headed to the trail. But just as we started the trek into the canyons, the rain began to pour down on us. We ran back to the car, where we watched lightning streak down the sky in the distance.
Still not wanting to miss our chance to visit the canyon, we decided to wait again. In fifteen minutes, the weather had cleared, but now we were twenty minutes away from sunset. With the agreement to be careful but to move as quickly as possible, we grabbed our rain jackets and hurried back to the trail.
I am so glad we decided to go. The temperature had warmed again, so we ended up shedding our layers within the first half mile. And the view was incredible. I thought I had completely tired from seeing canyons, but I found this view more magnificent than when I visited the Grand Canyon last year. The canyons plunged deep into the earth, teeming with trees and wildlife. And just as we were finishing the trail, the sun dropped behind the trees and lit up the sky like fire. I have never seen a more incredible sunset in my life.
As always, the picture does not do it justice – the sunset was absolutely breathtaking in person
Our campsite was just a few minutes away, so we made it there just before dark. The road was a little rough, and there was not enough space to set up our tent, but it was too late to try another campsite. While I made salads for dinner, Joseph cleared out the back seat, and then we ate in the woods. Joseph hung his hammock between our car and the trees so he could sleep beneath the stars, but I wanted protection from the wind and mosquitos, so I slept in the car.
As I fell asleep, I thought back to all the incredible people we met today. From brief encounters with kind townspeople, to the cashier who gave us a free bag of ice, to the man who fixed our tire for free and helped us to stay on track with our journey, to the woman who has dedicated her life to saving endangered species, we experienced the true gift of kindness and generosity throughout our day. And our experience would not have been the same without it. It’s curious to me that, just this morning, I was pondering if society had lost something since the time when we lived in close quarters in cave dwellings to our comfortable homes today. Then it seemed that every interaction I had today was created to remind me that simply wasn’t true. The spirit of human cooperation and benevolence has not been lost. The challenge now is to be willing to focus on the goodness of people, and to challenge ourselves to extend that kindness to others as well.
