I
leave Madame Tussauds-like ambiance of the Visitor Center deeply perturbed.
Confused.
In a state of disbelief.
Confused.
In a state of disbelief.
The
slithery grip of the gospel of comfort and convenience follows after me and squeezes tight around my
neck.
On the
right, the parking lot where our car and escape from this hell is dancing in
the fiery haze.
The Parking Lot call is always the call of ease. Forget
Grand Canyon. Forget adventure and glory and gut.
The
small wooden sign - Mather Point - on the left, points unambiguously in the direction of...
uncertainty?!?
In this moment, for me, it's a no-brainer. There is
one choice left, and one alone.
I must
go and
find out for myself.
No shiny
brochures. No Photoshop enhanced photos. No overdone marketing hearsay. No
knowledge 'experts' regurgitating what they pecked out of books and
manuals.
Not even
an IMAX movie inside a state-of-the-art air-conditioned theater will suffice now.
I can't
put it off anymore.
True or false, live or die, I must
meet the Grand Canyon face to face.
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