Does our Sun rise today on a devastated North Rim? It does. First time since 1937. I am holding the vision of how it was when we visited in 1995 to perceive an even better future.
Happiest day, beloved Joy Train Rider! I love you! Bless you! I pray you’re doing well.
I confess I was rattled yesterday when I learned that Grand Canyon North Rim has been devastated by fire. I still may be but I am applying the one important thing I have control over: Myself. The buildings, the foliage, many people’s livelihood and others’ sense of safety are affected. Some had to be evacuated from Phantom Ranch at the bottom of the canyon. I’m praying for the firefighters and everyone affected.
My Hero #7 (my husband Frank is #1) Will Pattiz shares the searing details here. I know he’s hurting, along with millions of people around the world who’ve visited or planned to visit and dream about an opportunity.
To make sure I don’t fall into a depressed condition, I remind myself that Nature heals if we let her. We can focus our attention on a vision for how the North Rim will have positively evolved next time we’re able to visit. We must make sure it remains in our public domain without “adjustment” in acreage or resources.
I’m so happy to take you back there to the scene of our most exciting, romantic and awe-inspiring experiences over decades exploring more than 190 units. Here we go:
It’s the perfect September day in1995 when we arrive at the North Rim. There’s a tinge of unease as we pass the Kaibab Forest Campground and see the sign that it’s full.
Frank continues driving to the Grand Canyon Visitor Center parking lot, and it’s teeming with crowds of people emptying from tour buses. People are driving around trying to find a parking spot.
If they’re full – which it appears they are – the closest we might expect to find a hotel is more than 50 miles down the mountain. Frank says he’s ready to leave now.
“Better to catch the light, love. I don’t want to do that drive in the night.”
“Say what?!” I countered. “We are at Grand Canyon! No way I’m leaving here tonight.”
We are on the return leg of our leisurely two-month trip around the country. We made NO reservations anywhere and found a hotel room or campground EVERYWHERE, including near Yellowstone and Olympic National Park. We hadn’t anticipated that lodging would be a problem. Duh!
So when I come out of the Visitor Center dangling the key, Frank says,
“I told you you’re a Obeah woman.”
We both laugh with relief. It isn’t the first time he’s called me that. (THAT was when I got our tickets from MIA to Honduras changed to Belize on Christmas Day at the airport.)
“Obeah is a term for African diasporic religious, spell-casting, and healing traditions . . .” explains AI.
As it’s part of Jamaican culture and I’m Jamerican, Frank likes to tease me about it. My persistence and optimism seem to make life flow smoothly.
In the Visitor Center people are standing five-deep in line to get a room or check in. I hear the clerks say several times, “Sorry, we’re full,” with a look of pained sincerity. Still I wait.
Now it’s my turn. The clerk excuses himself to take a phone call. When he comes back his eyes are literally bulging. No doubt he’d noticed me standing there all that time, as my complexion stands out in the crowd.
“You must be the luckiest person on Earth,” he begins. “A room just opened up.”