The first time I saw the Grand Canyon was on a road trip with my Grandma and Grandpa.  That trip was the reason, the only reason, I found the Chevy Chase movie “Vacation” funny years later.  We did that.  We drove up, parked and walked to the edge.  My Grandpa said something like “big”, “beautiful”.  We agreed, got back into the motor-home and continued on.  It was not until many years later that I went back and fully appreciated this natural wonder of the state of Arizona.

Statistics state that this how most people see the Canyon, more than five million a year, from their cars or just looking over the ledge of the South Rim.  First time I ventured down was in the middle of a snow storm.  We had rooms not at one of the best hotels in Phoenix, but in some cabins not far from the edge.  We spent most of the day throwing snowballs at the fir trees, trying to knock off the snow from the branches.

I was restless, it had been a couple of hours of this, and it had been many years since that first sight with Grandpa, and I wanted to go in.  As night was setting in, we decided to have a good meal at the lodge, sleep and head to Canyon in the morning.  I bought a wool hat when I woke up.  Not the best idea as I’m allergic to wool, but it was cold and I did not know what else to do.  We started down the very small path.

What was extremely terrifying was that the fog was thick, and it was difficult to see.  Anything.  I remember my tennis shoes crunching the snow, I didn’t have boots, I was from Phoenix, and I remember literally hugging the side of South Rim as we tried to make our way down.  Needless to say, we didn’t get very far, but we had gotten in.  The following summer we went back and made it to the campgrounds on the bottom of the Canyon, and it was worth waiting for.