I have never felt so small in my entire life.

After staying in Buffalo Bill's Plywood Castle just outside Tulsa the night before, we decided that following the advice of the gas-station guy at midnight in Flagstaff was our best bet for roadside accommodations, part deux.*

"Excuse me, Sir... Is there lodging available right outside the national park? We'd like to get a few good hours of sleep and see the canyon at sunrise."

"Oh sure. Just take 89 north. Where 89 meets 64, yeah, I think there are some places there."

Well Mr. Gas-Station-Guy, what you failed to mention was that those motels you spoke of are in fact located where 180 meets 64...

ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE CANYON.

Upon the realization that the lodging options at 89 and 64 were nonexistent, our two choices were to either go back to Flagstaff or venture into the park to see what we would find. I would probably chalk our decision up to at least number 17 on my list of top 20 greatest decisions ever made.

Ummm soooo, you need a reality check? You need to reevaluate your priorities? You need something to kick your butt? One caliginous abyss coming right up! I advise a drive around the canyon's perimeter in the middle of the night. Holy. Moly.

Standing up there with the wind and the darkness, you just feel you need to grab hold of something. You could be 15 feet away from the edge, but the stillness and visual proximity of such an awe-striking site provokes an oddly calm fear. I assume that fear is the catalyst for the humbling, defenseless aura that suddenly envelops the microscopic being that you are, but who knows? I could be wrong.

To continue, we emerge from the park, almost having had a 12-foot-tall buck plow through us (ok, I'm exaggerating, but it was HUGE), to find the promised land of parkside lodges. We briefly rejoice with hoorays and hurrahs until we think about onnnne wee little detail.

Oh hey, Shasta and Alli, it's LABOR DAY WEEKEND. Haaahaaaaaa. They say two brains are better than one and if that's the case, I hate to think of... ok, I just don't want to think about it.

Having found, literally, the last room within 100 miles, we rested up, only to wander back into the park a few hours later. We missed sunrise this time, but one day, when I go hiking/riding through the canyon, I will see it every single day of that (pending) adventure.

And don't get me wrong, the canyon is unbelievable in the daylight too, but having your first views of it in dim moonlight is terrifyingly bewitching and incredibly thought-provoking.

So tiny, we are. So, so tiny.


You've built a dam to hold this stream;
And you'll break your back to pan this gold.
A 24-carat mind, so what did you think you'd find?
Don't trade it for shining things that will clip wings in your soul.

There is beauty everywhere,
But you've got to get out of your own way.
Allow yourself the comfort of others
And relish in the secret sweetness
That is unique to every day.



*None of this road trip was planned out whatsoever per the norm, other than a) we knew we were driving west b) we had to get there in 3 days or less and c) I was bringing Halloween Moose Munch as my primary form of sustenance.