My Most Memorable Trip

It was spectacular scene! As the chopper came up to the Grand Canyon, I could see the Grand Canyon in its full glory. Someone was saying something to me but I didn’t hear them. The steep sides were standing majestic as they were carved out by the river. It was amazing to think that some Native Americans had lived here years before. If anyone had questioned me some hours before; I would have retorted that I wasn’t entirely comfortable about living in caves and hunting for food. But, looking at the Canyon now, I could understand why the Native Americans would choose it as a place of residence. In fact, I was just about ready to abandon all by reservations and dive headstrong into living at the Grand Canyon for eternity.

My brother, Nick, and I had decided to start with the aerial trip around the canyon. The chopper soon landed at a spot near the bottom of the Colorado River. We weren’t the only ones there. The sides of the canyon were epic. Rocks had been carved out with stories of years of formation and reformation. The chopper took off leaving Nick and I to hike around the sides of the canyon. We made our way through the rocks and stones staying close to the river and using it as a compass to guide. There were so many rocks around and in the river. I picked up small rocks with unique shape for souvenirs as we kept walking.

After an hour of hiking, we grew tired and decided to stop for a break and have a bite or eat. We each had our own snacks, so we settled on a rock to eat. Suddenly, I felt something wet fall on me. Then another and another, it was raining! We got up and started rushing back. Crack! “What was that?” I asked. “I don’t know,” Nick answered. We put it out of our minds and kept running. Crack! “Did you hear…?” Crack! Crack! There was nothing to explain the sounds around us. Then we looked up, there was a mass of rocks coming down. Boulders were coming loose and joining in the flow. We had to run! No, we had to get out of the way! We ran away from the river. I had to get out of the way of the falling rocks and the water rushing down. The rain kept on pouring into the Canyon and we were getting cold. Then I remembered how the Native Americans had survived. “We are supposed to find a cave we cover or shelter, as we wait for the rain to stop,” I said. Nick nodded in agreement and after a brief search, we found one.

It was warm inside, not at all what I had expected. The walls had a rich texture that spoke volumes. The rocks felt smoother and more welcoming. The sound of the rain was muffled to sounding like a soothing rhythm. We decided to wait for the rain to subside before we went back to the parking site. We had found a sanctuary. We felt safe. I don’t know how long we were in there for. Crack! We heard again. We got up, scared, thinking that the cave was collapsing. Crack! We heard again, but this time it was not as loud as it was before. There were stones! Small stones were being thrown into the cave. We approached the entrance carefully and found another hiker out there throwing stones. The rain had subsided. He led us back to the other hikers. We may have been on the brink of disaster but one thing was for sure, this was the most memorable trip I had ever had!