This was the last scenic pull off we visited on the Hermit Road at the South Rim of the Grand Canyon.
Don’t get too excited, the saga isn’t over yet.
This particular spot was stunning.
The grandeur…
The colors…
The hermits.
But it was cooooold.
So cold.
And though there were captivating things to read about rocks…
I took my last picture… and jumped into the warm car.
But wait.
Could it be?
Had I really found it…?
The official site of Hermit reunions!
Who knew.
Creepy meme aside, I meant this abyss.
South Rim, Grand Canyon.
Was it deeper than any of the other chasms we saw that day?
I don’t know.
When you’ve seen one giant gaping hole….
I have to admit, as grand (and impressive, and majestic, and awe inspiring, and wondrous) as it was… and it really was! After an entire day ducking in and out of scenic vistas and taking pictures of holes and rocks in the frigid wind, my mind’s eye was looking elsewhere.
Trees?
Sure…
Placards about ravens?
Why not.
Obligatory cell phone panoramic?
Check.
Husband walking?
Yeah, I only have 11,786 of those.
Short video clip?
Sorry, that too.
Because Hell, when it feels like 4 below and you can no longer feel your feet? Sometimes rocks are just…
Rocks.
Well, yes.
There is that.
Did I mention the Grand Canyon was cold that day?
Well, it was.
And hour after hour we were jumping in the car… not nearly long enough to warm up…. and then jumping out of the car to explore the next site.
When we hit Hopi Point?
I sat in the car for a while and conversed with an elk while I got some circulation back in my fingers.
Not the greatest conversationalists, elk.
But to be fair, this one had his (her?) mouth full, so I might have missed key parts of the witty repartee..
After a while I ventured out…
And was struck speechless by the sheer grandeur.
Alright, I wasn’t speechless.
But there was no one around and the elk wasn’t listening… so cut me some slack.
This section of the canyon was majestic.
If you’re into wide open, vast chasms of rock that could swallow you whole.
It wasn’t pretty, per se….
But raw, stark beauty is striking in its own right.
Powell Point Memorial.
At the end of Powell Point.
Named for a guy named Powell.
Who says my posts aren’t educational?
Well…okay.
But they do have pretty pictures.
Walking out to the end of Powell Point was a frigid experience….
The wind was frigid, snapping my hair into my face like a whip. It felt like it was 4 below.
And I could no longer feel my nose.
Whew.
Red… but still there.
I scurried around, taking pictures.
Thinking, yeah… if it was 50 degrees warmer I’d sit a spell.
But the husband was happily climbing around.
Exploring every last square inch.
And that’s the thing about the Grand Canyon….
There are lots of inches to discover.
Including this fuzzy elk butt that was pointing at the car window when I got in.
Damn.
I love nature.
Next stop at the Grand Canyon was Powell Point, where we were greeted by a miniature snowman…
And a terrifying sign.
Most dangerous creature in the canyon?
Who knew…
Powell Point is like a small park.
With spectacular views.
Which apparently the elk like as well….
As evidenced by their footprints…
And their…
Well, just watch where you walk.
Powell Point is aptly named as it juts out into the canyon like a point.
And even there…
The husband couldn’t escape the machines that plague his every waking hour at work.
Don’t tempt him Heston.
Really…. don’t.
Because there’s more to see in the Grand Canyon than just rocks…
There are elk.
We were driving down the road, and there they were.
Happily munching away.
And not paying us a bit of attention.
So close I could have reached out and touched one.
But they tend to frown on that…
So I just happily took pictures.
Sometimes of myself.
Elk are impressive, if somewhat goofy creatures.
Though hard to take seriously when they have that giant target on their butts.
Roads and fences don’t stand in their way…
So neither did we.
But come on….
Those big fluffy butts are really begging for a pat.
I could have happily spent all day watching them…
But there were more rocks up ahead.
Do you ever have those silly arguments with your significant other? (You know the ones… they’re always wrong, but don’t want to admit it.)
When we left Mather’s Point at the South Rim of the Grand Canyon I wanted to turn right and explore various points on the rim trail. He wanted to turn left and drive 20 miles to the watchtower, then 20 miles back to explore the rest and then repeat the first 20 miles because we’d be exiting that way. This made no sense, but he did it anyway because he was driving.
A mile or so down the road?
Even the weather knew I was right.
We turned around.
If you’ve never been to the South Rim of the Grand Canyon (Go! What are you waiting for?) it’s set up something like this – long main road with lots of pullouts for scenic views. Some are large with parking lots, monuments and information placards… some just small vacant outcrops.
We hit them all…. and the husband was like a kid in a candy store.
Awed.
The experience makes you feel small, insignificant.
And that’s not always a bad thing…
At Maricopa Point we read some history…
Climbed a lot of stairs.
Admired the view.
Not bad.
Not bad at all…
Read some more history…
And I answered…
When the husband asked if I wanted to go down and join those hikers on the trail.
See those little specks?
Hikers.
Hell, with his habit of always wanting to go the wrong way?
We’d never find our way back out.
