Saturday June 22. We just passed a huge dead cow on the side of the road. I am nauseous and sad. I guess that's what all those yellow signs with cows on them were warning us about.
We slept in the car last night for the first and hopefully last time on this trip. We were so tired after our day at the Grand Canyon that we drove to the campground just some five miles south of the park and couldn't muster the energy to build the tent, nor did we want to leave the warmth of the car--the temperature had dropped about thirty degrees since the sun went down and the wind picked up. I'm almost surprised that we haven't slept in the car until now. We've been pretty fortunate to find as many free campgrounds as we have, and we were lucky to even find spaces at the two campgrounds that we paid for in Grand Teton and Yellowstone since we were there on a weekend in June. So far we've only stayed two nights at hotels, hence the big lapses in time between blog updates, but we're trying to be as thrifty as possible so the money we have will last us till we get to California and land jobs. I think we've done well so far.
The Grand Canyon was, in a word, grand. To see it in pictures is one thing; to stand at the edge and look out at miles of steep cliffs and open space carved out of stone over millions of years is another. It was breathtaking. Literally. Several times when I walked to the edge and looked down, I had to remind myself to breathe. And such was the case whenever Colin walked out on a rock (he's more daring than I am, especially when it merits a good photo op) and left me behind struggling to hold my phone still long enough to snap a picture.
Some people elect to hike into the canyon and then back up, but it's a strenuous hike that's typically done over a two-day span, which we weren't prepared for. Also, it was very hot, and I don't know how I would have carried all the water I'd need to stay hydrated. Instead, we hiked a good part of the rim trail, which afforded us lots of incredible panoramas.
The rim trail could only be accessed via a free trolley that ran every 15 minutes until sunset and then twice more over a one-hour span afterwards. We thought we'd be back at the car and on our way to the campsite before sunset, but we underestimated the amount of time it would take to do the hike with ample stops for vista gazing and picture taking. This wasn't necessarily a bad thing since the sunset was beautiful beyond words and a once-in-a-lifetime experience, although regrettably one we were unable to capture with our iPhones' limited camera capabilities, but it meant that we were stuck with the hoards of people also waiting to take the trolley back after watching the sunset. We hoped we could avoid fighting for a seat on the next trolley if we walked to the nearest stop a mile away and caught the following (next-to-last) trolley. It seemed like a good idea considering that there were way more people waiting than could possibly fit on the next car, so we started walking briskly, but soon it was dark and the wind was blowing and I was really regretting not having brought a sweatshirt with me. We got to the next stop and no one was there: we must have just missed the trolley. All I could think about was how warm it must be sandwiched between strangers in that overpacked car.
Colin and I huddled together and he pulled me closer with every gust of wind. I looked at my phone and only twelve minutes had gone by. We'd be waiting for at least another ten or fifteen. We started to worry that we were waiting in the wrong place since there was still no sign of anyone else and this would be the last trolley going back to the main area--anyone who missed it would be stuck walking back or waiting till sunrise for the first trolley of the morning. We debated whether we should walk the two-or-so miles back to the car. I didn't think I could stand the cold unless we were running, but even after all the hiking we'd done that day, it seemed like a better idea than standing there and freezing.
Just then we saw a flash of light down the road. No, it wasn't the trolley; it was the glow of a phone screen. Someone else was out there! We walked over to find a German couple who told us in broken English that they, too, were waiting for the trolley. I tried to explain that the stop was behind us (where Colin and I had been waiting the whole time) but they didn't seem to understand. For some reason, I felt better waiting with them, even if we weren't waiting at the stop. (They also happened to be standing right in the road where the trolley would be forced to stop for them or run them over.) Without Colin's big warm arms wrapped around me, it was a lot cooler. I ran in place. I jumped in the air. I sprinted in circles around Colin. The Germans laughed.
I looked at my phone again. We had been waiting for a half hour. Either these trolleys weren't on schedule or we were screwed. Just as Colin and I were about to call it a day and hoof it back to the car, we saw lights in the distance. We all froze and stared--could it be? It was too big to be another glowing cell phone or a flashlight. Was it a mirage?
No, it was the trolley! The Germans cheered. We all cheered. I jumped up and down, waving my arms like a madwoman. The trolley stopped, and I greeted the humorless, grouchy-looking driver with the biggest grin I have in my arsenal. Never have I ever been so happy to see a bus full of funny-smelling strangers. And guess what else? There were plenty of seats.
Happy Independence Day!
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