Better than a Picture
By: Melissa Libbey
As I walk up the path the trees begin
to part and the peaks on the canyon start to form. Right in front of my eyes
the canyon takes shape. I jog ahead and grab onto the rail in front of me. I
take a deep breath and release it slowly. I can’t help it but an “oh my god”
escapes my lips. There is a slight breeze and my loose blonde hair floats back
behind me as I gaze out into the distance. My dad and brother catch up and they
grab the railing on either side of me. We all take a minute to let the canyon
sink in and my dad is the first one to speak, “wow.” I turn to him and although
I know it is cliché, I say, “It is absolutely breath-taking.” We follow the
rail up to Mather point.
The heat of Nevada hits you as soon
as you emerge from any air-conditioned building. You become emerged in the
thick heaviness of the heat. Once you get used to the burning in your dry eyes
and the heavy breath in your lungs you begin to appreciate Nevada’s beauty. I
walk towards our rented white Dodge Avenger and I slide into the passenger
seat. I have my book, a pillow, and a bottle of water, I feel good to go. I
turn to look at my brother in the back seat; he is sprawled across both seats
with a pillow and his phone. It is practically his new appendage; I never see
it missing from his hand. Everything bores him, only his phone keeps him
occupied. My dad starts the car with a wide grin on his face. It is contagious,
so I smile back at him. He turns up the classic rock station that he found on
the radio and pulls onto the interstate. The mountains in Nevada are like
nothing I have ever seen. Dried up old rock formed over years of time and ware.
The mountains are beautiful but the rest of the landscape is so bare. Sand,
dirt, and road cover the miles that are stretched out in front of us. I make a
note to myself to appreciate grass more when I get home. I turn to my dad and
ask him how long it will take to get to the Grand Canyon. He mapped it out on a
map he bought from home. I love that he is still old fashioned and relies on
certain things that technology has replaced. He tells me that it should take
between 4 to 5 hours to get there.
The drive is long, about an hour in I
am bored and I ask my dad to tell me a story from his childhood. I tend to do
this very often; I love hearing tales from when he was young. “It was a
different time,” he always says. He clears his throat to start up a tale and I
recline the seat some more to get relaxed. He starts to explain the closets in
our house and how they were arranged when he was young. I grew up and live in
the same house that my dad grew up in. There is so much family history that
lives within those walls. My dad continues to tell his story.
“Your grandmother’s closet was in my
room when I was young. Early one morning she was getting ready to volunteer at
the hospital when she realized that her hospital shoes were in her closet, in
my room. So she goes to open the door but it is locked. So she knocks.” I begin
to giggle because I have heard this story about a thousand times but I won’t
stop him because I love to hear the joy in his voice when he tells his tales.
“The knocking wakes me up and I
realize that it is my mother and I panic. Your mother is in the bed next to me.
We had just started dating and my mother did not know that she had slept over.
I call through the door and ask my mom what she needed. She kept saying she
needed her shoes.”
My brother begins to interject, “dad,
we’ve heard this one already.” My dad apologizes and leaves it at that. I
explain that I don’t mind hearing it again, but the moment has passed. I look
back again at my brother who takes up the whole backseat with his 6 foot 1
lengthy frame. He is scrolling through his phone, so engrossed in whatever is
on the screen. Twitter, Tinder, and Tumblr, that’s all he seems to care about
these days. The boy has made meeting girls on Tinder a hobby.
I am starting school as soon as we
get back from vacation. I recently decided to get my masters degree in English.
I have always wanted to be a writer and I am hoping today’s experience is
something I can one day write about. My brother burps loudly and it wakes me
from the thinking. I shake my head and wonder when he will ever grow up.
The sun is still low in the sky and I
feel as if we have the whole day ahead of us. My eyes start to feel heavy and I
force to keep them open. I promised to be a good co-pilot to my dad, just in
case he needed the GPS on my phone. I always try to help him out in every way I
can. But he really doesn’t need me, not like I need him. He head starts to
droop to the side and I snap it back.
My dad turns and says “Miss, why
don’t you take a nap. I know long car rides aren’t your thing.” I nod, because
he is right. I hate car rides. Not only do I get motion sickness but also I am
an active person. I hate sitting in one spot for hours. That’s probably why I
hate my desk job. I let my eyelids feel heavy and I get comfortable in my seat.
I let sleep take over me.
The decision to
take a family trip to Las Vegas was made months ago. My brother was finally
turning twenty-one this year and I would be turning twenty-four this fall. As a
child my dad didn’t take many family trips, he always did his best to give us
the experiences he never had. My dad had never been to Sin City and wanted to
experience what Vegas had to offer. My brother and I were more than happy to
accompany him. We planned the trip for the first week in September, after the
craziness of summer. The plan was to spend one week in Las Vegas. We wanted to
relax by the pool, walk the strip at night, and see a few shows. After the
plane tickets were bought and the hotel room was booked my dad broke out the
map. He realized that the Grand Canyon was a day trip away from Las Vegas. He
wrote it into the itinerary. From the beginning my brother wasn’t thrilled.
Over time I got used to the idea and days before the trip I was even excited for
the long car ride to one of the oldest landmarks our country has. Half way
through our trip we got up early and packed the car for a day in Arizona.
When I wake up I can feel the
temperature difference in the car. We have the AC on, but the sun is higher in
the sky and the heat is thicker. I was awoken by the debate my dad and brother
are having. My brother wants to know if we will make it back to the hotel in
time to watch the Thursday night game. Today is the season opener for football
and the Packers are facing the Seahawks, we all know that it will be a
momentous game.
“Erik, I don’t think we will make it
back in time, but I will try.”
“How long do we have to stay at the
Grand Canyon for dad? Can we stay for an hour and maybe see the second half of
the game?” Although I am a girl, I do love football and I get excited for every
new football season but that comment made my blood boil.
I whipped my head around and I said,
“We are going to stay as long as dad wants. The trip to the Grand Canyon is for
him, so we will leave when he is ready.” My brother went back to his phone and
muttered under his breath but I didn’t want to keep arguing. I decided to look
out the window at the mountains. We passed a sign that said Grand Canyon
National Park 25 Miles. A smile spread across my face because the worst was
over. We listened to the radio in silence for the rest of the drive.
The Grand Canyon National Park
entrance is blocked off by Park Rangers in tollbooths. My dad pays the fee and
asks the female ranger for directions to the closest rim of the canyon. She
seems friendly. As she hands my dad a map and explains the route I can tell
that she genuinely loves her job and I wonder what made her want to work at the
country’s largest landmark. We pull through the tollbooth and drive towards the
visitor’s center. I see green leafy trees for the first time in days. I roll
down my window and feel the cool breeze. The temperature is cooler here. I look
down at my black shorts and tank top and regret my outfit choice. We drive for
about 15 minutes when we see signs for the visitor’s center. My dad makes a
left at a fork in the road and drives until he sees a large parking lot. We all
can’t wait to step out and stretch our legs. I jump out of the car; the cool
air makes my hair stand on end and my arms fill with Goosebumps. I assumed the
temperature in Arizona would be the same as Nevada but I was wrong. The sun was
strong so I told myself that as long as I stay in the sun I won’t be as cold.
We walked to the visitor center to use the restrooms. After my father asked for
directions yet again we began to walk to the south rim of the Grand Canyon. We
begin walking up a concrete path. My brother makes a comment about the amount
of foreign languages he has been hearing and I turn to him and say, “The Grand
Canyon is a huge natural wonder that people from all over the world want to
experience. Maybe now you can see what a big deal this is and why we drove 5
hours to be here.” My brother keeps quiet and glances down at his phone. I walk
ahead of my family to find a sign that says Mather Point ahead.
Mather point is a piece of the canyon
that ventures out farther than other parts of the rim. You walk along the rock
so it is as if you are standing in the canyon. We walk to the edge and stand
behind the railing. My dad takes out his camera and snaps a dozen pictures. For
the first time I look at the formations in the rock. The sun was
bright that day and it couldn’t be more perfect. The shadows that were cast
along the canyon only added to its beauty. First off, describing the canyon as
massive is an understatement. The depth of this natural wonder is almost too
much for the perception of the human eye. I almost couldn’t tell where the
canyon ended and the sky began.
Years and years of erosion and
natural elements shaped what is the canyon today. The ancient rock was shaped
by the constant flow of the Colorado River. The layers in the rock are
beautiful. If you have ever seen a sunset then you will understand what the
rock in Grand Canyon looks like. The tips of the peaks are a light
gray, almost white, bleached by the sun. The next layer is an orange that fades
to a deep red. The color of the rock so vibrant that it doesn’t look real.
Towards the bottom of the canyon the rock begins to look normal again as it
takes on its classic brown color. Hints of red and orange are everywhere within
the canyon, but most of the rock has the same color pattern. If you look close
enough you can see that there are trees growing out of the rock. In the desert
in Arizona trees are growing out of rock. I finally realize that I am now
fascinated.
We walk off of Mather’s point and
continue on the trail around the rim. My brother finds a spot in the railing
where he can squeeze through. My father follows him. I make them turn around
and give me their gadgets just in case. They follow along the rock and down a
hill. The wall juts out like a point and they walk along it. Father and son
reach the end of the point and sit along the edge. I am cringing with anxiety
but I am enjoying the bonding moment they are having. I take a couple of
pictures on my phone and they start to walk back. They explain how cool the
canyon looked from that angle. They know my fear of heights prevented me to
join them and they don’t press me on it.
We realize that there isn’t much more
to see and my dad decides its time to walk back to the car. I stop them and ask
if we can take a family photo. I tend to be the nostalgic one in my family. I
think this is because I am the only female force in our household. They humor
me and come back to the railing. I find a nice couple that speak English and
agree to take our photo. My dad gives his camera to the woman and I stand in
the middle. I always try to be in the middle of the picture because when I look
back at it I like knowing that I have two strong men to hold me up in life.
I view the picture to make sure it
saved on my dad’s digital camera. The sun is bright, the canyon glows behind us
and my brother isn’t smiling. Well at least he took the picture with us. I
can’t expect too much more from him.
The woman asks me where we are from
and I exclaim, “New Jersey.”
“Oh, east coast. Us too, we are from
Florida.” I smile and nod. They must be in their fifties. Him with the camera
strap around his neck and red polo shirt, her in a purple windbreaker and
bright turquoise fanny pack. They seem nice enough and we talk about our
traveling and where we are staying. I can tell my brother is getting antsy so I
say good-bye and we are on our way back to the car.
I roll my window down and breath in
the mountain air. I pull my seatbelt on and recline in my seat. My dad starts
to drive toward the exit. He pulls out the map and turns around.
“Dad where are we going, the exit is
that way,” my brother whines. My dad doesn’t answer but keeps on driving. I
eventually see a sign that says “This way to the Navajo observation tower.” My
brother sighs in the back seat but I keep quiet. We reach another parking lot
and my dad parks.
As we get out of the car he says, “we
may only get to do this once, lets get the full experience.” I agreed with him
so I walked ahead to what looked like a tower in the distance.
There is a sign that states that the
tower is a replica of a tower that the Navajo Indians built to observe the
area. After reading the sign I walked in to the tower. We have to walk through
a gift shop to the back of the tower. A spiral staircase takes us to the upper
levels with observation windows. My brother rushes past me up the stairs. His
athleticism always bothered me. I constantly had an injury growing up. I follow
them both up the stairs. I am breathless by the time I reached the top level. I
see my dad placing a quarter into one of the coin-operated binoculars.
He looks through it and says “hey
guys, I can see the Colorado River!” My brother and I fight to look through it.
We were all curious where the river was in the canyon because from the rim you
can’t see far enough down to see the water. After giving my brother a turn I
look through the eyepiece to see the famous green water that shaped the canyon
to be what it is. My brother eagerly runs to each window to see what view he
can see. For the first time today I see what could be the makings of a smile.
We all walk over to the same window.
My dad looks over at my brother and
says, “cool?”
Erik looks back at him and says with
a smirk, “cool.” My brother explains that he got some great pictures for
Instagram and I understand that is his subtle way of saying that what we saw
today was pretty amazing. I tell him that there is no way to get the true perspective
of the canyon with a picture, he agrees.
We walk out of the tower, after
buying T-shirts of course, and we walk back to the car. I hug my dad and thank
him for taking us here.
“I’m happy we all got to see it
together honey.” I look up at my dad and in that moment I can see that this has made his list of the amazing things he has done in his life. Between seeing the Eiffel Tower, driving the Pacific Coast Highway, and taking pictures of the golden gate bridge that seeing the Grand Canyon might make the top of the list. At 59 years old he has done so much, but I can tell
that this experience meant a lot to him. A tear rolls down my face and I am
grateful for my sunglasses. We reach the car and I climb in to the passenger
seat. My brother takes his spot on the entire back seat and my dad starts the
car. He turns the radio up and pulls out of our parking spot. As we pull out of
the parking lot and drive towards the interstate I look out the window. I begin
to think about how I wouldn’t want to experience this with anyone else but my
family. Then I realize that although we all had different feelings about this
trip in the end we all know that it was worth it.
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