Grand Canyon Migration

It has been awhile since I've posted. The hecticitiness of opening night preparation kept me busy(By the way, the show runs until May 2) and the annual trip to the Grand Canyon over Easter break has also played a role in my negligence. But I have a moment...

Every year more or less, a friend of mine and I head out for a little camping trip to the canyon. We leave on Friday morning and head west, non-stop for about 36 hours. Driving in shifts we usually arrive on the south rim by dinner time on Saturday. This year we brought my 10-year old son along to share the torture...take him on his vision quest. Snow and cold on the Kaibab that night made the hot dogs taste better, but the sleeping more challenging.

Up in the morning we hiked the 5 miles down to Cottonwood Creek, set up camp and then explored the creek bed as far down as it goes before a drop off cuts us off. Unfortunately one can't get down to the Colorado River from this creek bed. Over the years we have done every rim to river trail, several more than once. Cottonwood, although it doesn't get to the river, is a very nice place to use as a base camp for day hikes.

The second day we hiked over to Hance Creek and then down the bed till the cut-off. We covered about 15 miles that day. The weather both days was perfect for hiking. Close to 70 degrees each day. I'm not even going to bother trying to describe this landscape. It defies description on a large scale. You can maybe do justice to bits and pieces of it, but the whole is incomprehensible.

The third day we took the Tonto west towards Grapevine to the point where you can see the river from the promontory. One of the best views of the river from above. After that we took the rest of the day off. I wandered back down Cottonwood looking for subtleties that I could grasp. I'm particularly fond of the little chutes and slides that appear in various places. Little treasures. Here are two interesting little magic places that one can wrap one's head around. That night freight train winds blew up Cottonwood all night long and by daytime the comfortable warmth of the previous three days was replaced by sleet and snow for the climb out. I am happy to report that my son did make it out alive and may actually look back upon the experience some day with fondness.

I really enjoyed this little place, this little moment. Trickling water, fluid rock, an elemental tango and for the time I was the only witness...me and these really cool little silver frogs.

While down inside I couldn't resist playing with all the raw material. To build anything seemed to me to be absurd in light of the setting. How does anything man made even warrant attention in the midst of such grandeur. If nothing else, being in the canyon puts your ego where it belongs.

So rather than build, I just did some arranging. I did two little pieces while in Cottonwood, kind of playing along with the Canyon gods. A bar of piccolo in an infinite cosmic fugue that maybe a few people will hear and smile at, a little gesture just to let them know that their work is appreciated. The first piece was just a line of light colored stone following the contours of some reddish slick rock, up a little crease in the wall and trickling to an end in pebbles.
Its amazing to me how this rock flows. When you run yours hands over it it feels like flowing water. I have a fundamentalist acquaintance who believes that the Earth is only 6000 some years old and I can't imagine anyone being able to maintain that belief standing in this place. Watching how water and air have shaped this landscape, it is absurd to believe that 6000 years could create this. This place goes way beyond the provincial idea of such small time spans. It reeks of age, of time, of the infinite and its fluidity can only really be understood in that context.
I did a second larger piece that afternoon closer to camp. A spiral out of reddish cobbles on a slick rock shelf. Jesse actually managed to contribute a bit before his patience ran out and he wandered off and began to practice his quarterstaff maneuvers with a dried yucca shaft.

It took a couple of hours and it sort of took its own form as it spiraled out. The rock face had something to say about things, but I liked the way it played out. I just wish there would have been better light for a photo. But by the time I got done it was dusk.

The last picture was taken from the Tonto trail above the campsite. The spiral is almost lost in the setting, but I liked the picture because it inadvertently included the small rock shelter on the opposite cliff. It all feels very stone age to me and it certainly puts things into perspective.

So, that's what I did on my vacation.