“PIFFLE!”
We’re currently enjoying the best hot chocolate of our lives at Macy’s Coffee in Flagstaff, AZ. And we definitely earned it.
We rolled into the Grandest of Canyons along with a series of thunderstorms. The foreboding clouds darkened our first sunset view of the canyon, but could not deter us. We tooled around the rim in our over-stuffed car and dutifully snapped the money shots they tell you about.
That night, after a dinner of chili in a bread bowl (fatal camping mistake #1), we attended a ranger program. It began with a lanky, 50-something ranger furiously coating his lips with chap stick and counting the change in his pockets while waiting for the dramatic orchestral music to conclude, and it ended with the same ranger throwing a Sponge Bob Square Pants hand puppet onto the stage and shouting “BOOM” into his microphone. Along the way, we learned about the geologic history of the Grand Canyon. Most importantly, we were empowered by Ranger Jim to scream “PIFFLE!” at anyone who claimed any other canyon in the universe was Grand.
We tucked away into our bed rolls soon after. Due to the threat of storms, we had stocked up on an emergency thermal blanket and a tarp, which proved very useful. Thunderstorms raged throughout the night, but we were warm and dry. Until 5:45 am, that is, when we were startled awake by a particularly close storm. Having learned that cars are safe places to ride out lighting strikes, we ran from our tent into our car, wearing only our long underwear, getting sopping wet in the process. Once in the car, we said “hey, why not watch the sun rise?” So we did. Turns out, it’s hard to watch the sun rise in the middle of a thunderstorm. And kind of scary, too. Especially when you’re standing at the edge of a gigantic precipice.
I don’t think Sarah nor I had seen this side of 6 am since, hell, I can’t remember. But our day was started and we were going to make the best of it. We breakfasted, hiked into the canyon, and ate pb&j sandwiches. Then we both took a nap in the car by the side of the road, only to wake up to a beautiful rainbow cascading into the canyon.
We took in another ranger show (by a gay ranger, let’s call him Steve, whom Sarah became quickly enamored of) that took us on a full moon walk along the rim past the burnt forest. Creepy and cool. We then drifted off to sleep, confident that our tent would keep us warm and dry, like it had during the thunderstorm.
That was silly.
Our tent has a bad habit of raining on the inside of the tent when it’s not raining outside. I think it has to do with the condensation from our body heat or something. Our thermal emergency blanket decided to take after our tent and rained as well. It was a rough night.
Lack of sleep didn’t deter us from taking an 8-mile hike along the rim today. We’re now thoroughly exhausted and ready for bed. Especially after our delicious hot chocolate at Macy’s. I will plug this chocolate until I die.
-Megan (with help from Sarah)
Tags: American Identity, Arizona, Flagstaff, Grand Canyon, Photography, Southwestern United States, Travel
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Glad to hear the stories of adventure in the Canyon,,, though wondering where you’ll sleep after you leave the car off in Tulsa… will the tent be a workable thing, or should I look around here to send another?
The photos are amazing, once again.
Remembering to make a mental note of Macys’ ho-cho if I ever get there,
Love you both,
Dad
You guys don’t live in SF anymore! It’s almost not even worth going home…..I’m so excited for you. If I come into a lot of money soon I will come visit you on your trip. Lots of love – A
What can be said about that photograph? WOW. Unbefuckinglievable. Your tenting tale reminded me — I once went camping in the Catskills with an ex. It was the infamous weekend of Woodstock 2, which we didn’t know about because we were big dorks, and if you remember the muddy photos of that concert you can get a sense of what Miriam and I looked like after attempting to camp in that torrential 2-day downpour. It took mom turning 70 and demanding my presence in Northern Maine to get me into a tent again . . . TEN YEARS LATER.
Dad,
Fear not about the tent, we’ll be staying mostly in hostels so we won’t have to brave the indoor rain of our “GoLite Den II.”
Aja,
I don’t think we should wait until you come into a lot of money. I think you should act as my backpack. Instead of bringing any clothes or supplies, I’ll simply give you a piggyback ride through central and south america.
Bethany,
I’m very glad that Grandma cajoled you into camping once again. I have very fond memories of that trip: leeches, bee stings, more than one hundred mosquito bites on one calf, and the best family anyone could hope for.
-Sarah