The lack of humidity in the air is a nice respite, I thought to myself, but I don’t know if I could deal with this overwhelmingly bleak landscape day after day.
I was peering out the window of my Hampton Inn hotel room, watching cars zoom along on the nearby highway as I sipped from a plastic cup of refreshing Jose Cuervo margarita on ice. I was in Mesa, Arizona on a Friday evening, watching the sun set behind the mountains on the horizon across the desert in the distance.
I was a little jet-lagged and the Chinese dinner I had at a nearby buffet-style restaurant, along with the drink, was making me even sleepier. But I was hyped-up by the fact that I was in a career which featured business traveling. Ever since the ABM “pilgrimage” to New York when at DM, I had decided that I really enjoyed the opportunity to get out of the “same-old, same-old” routine and get paid to fly free to various locations. It was a perk I took full advantage of.
For this jaunt, my stay here would be for a whole week as I introduced the management training program I had developed to the crew in our company’s Mesa call center. I’d be conducting a few refresher courses with the reps as well, but the focus was to train the supervisors.
So I was excited not only because I knew that Earl and J.T. were thoroughly impressed with my work on this project and convinced the V.P. of Marketing to send me on this trip (as a precursor to an eventual promotion), but also because I would have the whole weekend to basically play tourist.
I was going through a bunch of brochures from the lobby of the hotel trying to decide how to spend my time for the next two days. It didn’t take me long. Even though it would mean a 4 hour drive, I absolutely, positively could not pass up this chance to visit the Grand Canyon.
After the combo of fatigue and finishing the 4-pack of margaritas the night before, I was a little hung-over, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me. I popped a couple of ibuprophen, downed them with the bitter coffee brewed with the in-room coffee maker, and made my way downstairs to my rented Mercury Sable.
The drive was interesting; I had never really been to a desert before and it was fascinating, especially when contrasted to my familiar lush-green Florida environment. The real drama came as I entered the mountains. Not since my occasional northern New England trips had I seen anything but flat or just slightly undulating terrain. And here, the mountains were quite big. The feeling of your ear drums popping, other than due to air pressure in a plane, is eerie. Within the span of just a couple of hours I had climbed thousands of feet.
By the time I reached Flagstaff, the surroundings had thoroughly transformed. Here, it looked more like a ski town in New Hampshire than in a state one equates with desert sands and cacti.
As I made my way towards the parking lot after entering the park gates I peered around, hoping to see the canyon, but all I saw were trees. Were it not for the signage, one would be hard pressed to distinguish they were so close to one of the world’s most ancient and vast natural ravines.
But after I parked in the lot and walked to the rim, I saw its grandeur laid out before me. It was breathtaking.
I had arrived midday and the sun was high in the sky. It was a beautiful cloudless day. The temperature here was a bit cooler than back in the Phoenix area, being much higher in elevation.
There were tours available but I decided to self-direct my experience. After spending time at the main viewing spots of the South Rim, being ever so careful to not get too close to the edge (I was surprised to see that the fencing was minimal and would not prevent a determined person from throwing themselves over the edge. In many spots, there was absolutely no fence at all. Yikes.) I made my way to some of the other interesting spots on the map.
First were the ruins of an Anasazi-culture settlement and the nearby tiny museum housing some artifacts. Very cool.
Next was a stone tower built right on the edge of the canyon, offering dramatic 360-degree views. Nice, but yet another thing that made my acrophobic palms sweat. Looking far off on one of the ridges, I could just barely make out a row of people and mules making their way down one of the insanely steep trails. I got dizzy and nauseous just thinking about it! Never would I ever do that!
As the afternoon wound down towards sunset, I went back to one of the main scenic lookouts. There were benches there and I sat, watching the multiple layers of red, orange and brown rock strata glow in the waning sunlight.
I had a sort of epiphany, not in the religious sense, but in a pure spiritual sense. The spirit of wonder and awe at the marvels of life.
I also could not help but think, this being just one month after the horrors of September 11th, that I was indeed living in troubled times. But, like the great canyon stretched out before me, shining like a beacon in the amber-hued light, this country and her people would endure.
I was peering out the window of my Hampton Inn hotel room, watching cars zoom along on the nearby highway as I sipped from a plastic cup of refreshing Jose Cuervo margarita on ice. I was in Mesa, Arizona on a Friday evening, watching the sun set behind the mountains on the horizon across the desert in the distance.
I was a little jet-lagged and the Chinese dinner I had at a nearby buffet-style restaurant, along with the drink, was making me even sleepier. But I was hyped-up by the fact that I was in a career which featured business traveling. Ever since the ABM “pilgrimage” to New York when at DM, I had decided that I really enjoyed the opportunity to get out of the “same-old, same-old” routine and get paid to fly free to various locations. It was a perk I took full advantage of.
For this jaunt, my stay here would be for a whole week as I introduced the management training program I had developed to the crew in our company’s Mesa call center. I’d be conducting a few refresher courses with the reps as well, but the focus was to train the supervisors.
So I was excited not only because I knew that Earl and J.T. were thoroughly impressed with my work on this project and convinced the V.P. of Marketing to send me on this trip (as a precursor to an eventual promotion), but also because I would have the whole weekend to basically play tourist.
I was going through a bunch of brochures from the lobby of the hotel trying to decide how to spend my time for the next two days. It didn’t take me long. Even though it would mean a 4 hour drive, I absolutely, positively could not pass up this chance to visit the Grand Canyon.
After the combo of fatigue and finishing the 4-pack of margaritas the night before, I was a little hung-over, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me. I popped a couple of ibuprophen, downed them with the bitter coffee brewed with the in-room coffee maker, and made my way downstairs to my rented Mercury Sable.
The drive was interesting; I had never really been to a desert before and it was fascinating, especially when contrasted to my familiar lush-green Florida environment. The real drama came as I entered the mountains. Not since my occasional northern New England trips had I seen anything but flat or just slightly undulating terrain. And here, the mountains were quite big. The feeling of your ear drums popping, other than due to air pressure in a plane, is eerie. Within the span of just a couple of hours I had climbed thousands of feet.
By the time I reached Flagstaff, the surroundings had thoroughly transformed. Here, it looked more like a ski town in New Hampshire than in a state one equates with desert sands and cacti.
As I made my way towards the parking lot after entering the park gates I peered around, hoping to see the canyon, but all I saw were trees. Were it not for the signage, one would be hard pressed to distinguish they were so close to one of the world’s most ancient and vast natural ravines.
But after I parked in the lot and walked to the rim, I saw its grandeur laid out before me. It was breathtaking.
I had arrived midday and the sun was high in the sky. It was a beautiful cloudless day. The temperature here was a bit cooler than back in the Phoenix area, being much higher in elevation.
There were tours available but I decided to self-direct my experience. After spending time at the main viewing spots of the South Rim, being ever so careful to not get too close to the edge (I was surprised to see that the fencing was minimal and would not prevent a determined person from throwing themselves over the edge. In many spots, there was absolutely no fence at all. Yikes.) I made my way to some of the other interesting spots on the map.
First were the ruins of an Anasazi-culture settlement and the nearby tiny museum housing some artifacts. Very cool.
Next was a stone tower built right on the edge of the canyon, offering dramatic 360-degree views. Nice, but yet another thing that made my acrophobic palms sweat. Looking far off on one of the ridges, I could just barely make out a row of people and mules making their way down one of the insanely steep trails. I got dizzy and nauseous just thinking about it! Never would I ever do that!
As the afternoon wound down towards sunset, I went back to one of the main scenic lookouts. There were benches there and I sat, watching the multiple layers of red, orange and brown rock strata glow in the waning sunlight.
I had a sort of epiphany, not in the religious sense, but in a pure spiritual sense. The spirit of wonder and awe at the marvels of life.
I also could not help but think, this being just one month after the horrors of September 11th, that I was indeed living in troubled times. But, like the great canyon stretched out before me, shining like a beacon in the amber-hued light, this country and her people would endure.