“Crossed the line around the changes of the summer,
Reaching out to call the color of the sky
Passed around a moment clothed in mornings faster than we see
Getting over all the time I had to worry,
Leaving all the changes far from far behind
We relieve the tension only to find out the master’s name
Close to the edge, down by the river
Down at the end, round by the corner
Seasons will pass you by,
Now that it’s all over and done,
Called to the seed, right to the sun
Now that you find, now that you’re whole
Seasons will pass you by.”
~ Anderson and Howe
My friend Rising Buffalo came to visit me at our perfect spot in Tusayan, AZ, just below GCNP. He said he’d driven through the forest recently to try to find a good spot to recommend to a friend who was coming to camp and he’d recommended this exact forest road to them. We had a nice visit, and he invited me to come to his house the following day. He works for the government, is part of the Arapaho tribe, but represents Native Americans in general as a sort of Liaison between the local tribes that border the Grand Canyon and the government/park. He has a very nice 3-bedroom house within Grand Canyon Village. I took a shower at his place and then I took him out to lunch at an outdoor restaurant also in the village. After that, he took me on the VIP tour of the canyon, coming to gated roads marked “Employees only” and punching in his government code to gain access for us. There was thunder in the distance, and the wind was blowing, but it was still a beautiful view.
After hiking a bit, we were both worn out. Rising Buffalo returned home for a nap, and Cosmo and I retreated to the van. The skies opened up and it poured. I was happy to be parked on asphalt for a change.
Cosmo and I explored on our own the next few days. Our outings were limited by the intermittent thunderstorms that occurred daily. We still had fun.
More people came into the campground on Monday and Tuesday. A “squatter” pulled in across from me Tuesday night. I’m fairly certain she snuck in around 10:00 and left before 6:00 hoping the park rangers wouldn’t catch her. I checked the park map and that spot was “available” meaning no one paid for it that night. She was in a new GMC sub-compact and had all sorts of camping accessories like expensive window covers that slip over the open door allowing you to either cover completely, or use them as dark screens to allow air flow. She was in and out of the car several times throughout the night, each time hitting her “clicker” to cause the headlights to flash and the horn to honk twice each time. She’d hit the clicker when she got back in, locking all the doors and setting the alarm. It still amazes/appalls me that someone thinks they are at risk for a break-in when they are IN their car at a campground. At one point she set off the alarm and it took several minutes for her to shut it off. Maybe she couldn’t find the clicker? She was a pain in the ass and I was glad to see her taillights just prior to sunrise.
We had another visitor one morning.
I think it was a female elk. No horns. Quite big and completely oblivious of me sticking my head out the van door to take her picture. She was about 6 feet from me and never even looked up.
And the final night, I went out to move my solar panels and happened to look up. Of course this gave me an ear-to-ear grin.
Wednesday I woke up early. I was ready to move back into the forest. I had my coffee and checked e-mail and then packed up. I drove to “guest services” and found that I could top off my freshwater tank. The water had been turned off due to drought but was back on when I got there. I spent $5 and got a long hot shower and then went to the grocery store in Grand Canyon Village. Everything was at least triple what I pay at the Flagstaff Walmart, so I got only the essentials I would need to stay in the forest through Labor Day. When I arrived on Forest Road 302 in Kaibab National Forest, I found my previous spot open and was so relieved to pull into the wide open space. The sun was shining and I had high hopes of getting my solar batteries back to 100%.
Lessons From The Road: I was shocked to find an open spot available in one of the campgrounds within Grand Canyon National Park. In fact, I had my choice of a LOT of empty campsites. When I was here 4 years ago, at the tail end of Covid, there were no spots available, and they were totally booked up 6 months in advance. Rising Buffalo told me that tourism is way down this year and hardly any people are visiting from other countries. Even on a weekend night, I was astonished to find about 2/3 of the sites empty (which of course was more than fine by me.)
As Cosmo and I explored, I took stock of the people who did come to camp at the Grand Canyon. There were a few in rental campers. They stand out because the class C campers are emblazoned with “Cruise America” and have been wrapped with colorful scenes of U.S. tourist attractions. The rental vans are painted with bright orange logos that say “Travellers Autobarn — Camper Van Rentals.” (Their spelling, not mine). Both groups can be annoying as hell, as they’ve watched too many YouTube videos about “van life” and they have a very unrealistic sense of what camping in a van/Class C is really about. Often newbies to camping and RV lifestyles, they are mostly unaware of the most basic camping etiquette, but I tend to give them a pass, because they are trying. I’ve talked to some. Many are with a family and trying to figure out a less expensive way of seeing the country rather than paying for motel rooms and eating every meal at a diner. Others are young couples, giving “The van life” a test drive to see if it is right for them. I’m not sure they are getting a realistic experience of life on the road if they are staying with other tourists at paid campgrounds every step of the way. On Monday, I met a couple from Germany who were a breath of fresh air. They were camping and hiking and backpacking through the southwest and they put out one of the nicest vibes I’ve experienced in weeks. They were absolutely a bright spot in my stay there.
There were many people camping at GCNP with high-end (Mercedes Sprinter) vans, upgraded for van life. I rarely interact with them. They usually have all the prerequisite Patagonia, REI and North Face clothing and camping gear. I find them to be a parody of who they think they are. Definitely FauxMads. To each his or her own, but I generally avoid them. Not my tribe.
There are also a smattering of families on vacation. Across from me was a family of 5 (A young couple, 3 kids, all pre-teens, and a dog). Their giant Ford truck and their tiny rPod pull-behind trailer had Kansas plates. They had 5 bikes strapped to the pick-up and in the morning, they all took off on a trail. Normally, I’d be interested in saying hi, and finding out their back story. Unfortunately, under the current regime, I don’t feel especially safe making friends outside the forest or the desert BLM land, and even there, I’m cautious. I’m ashamed to admit it, but a Kansas license plate throws up a red flag for me. I’ve come to believe that it’s not just that a large portion of the population has different political beliefs than I do, but that a huge part of the population is just outright nasty. Their inner monsters have been unleashed, and they actually relish the suffering of others. They claim they want to get rid of “the worst of the worst” when it comes to immigrants, but the reality is that they want to punish anyone who doesn’t look or think like they do. It’s not about deporting criminals; it about torturing brown people (for now—we’ll see who is next). It’s not about sending people back to their country of origin if they commit crimes, it’s about shipping innocent people off to a gulag in Uganda to terrorize Americans and keep everyone in step. I don’t talk politics (or religion) on the road, unless I truly get to know someone, but I can’t help seeing the hatred when I venture out of my forest hideaway. Having a political bumper sticker is one thing; Flying a “Trump 2028” flag the size of a bedsheet is something completely different. I feel the same way when I see that as I would if I saw someone flying a giant flag with a swastika on it. How has that become normalized? How has it become acceptable for military troops to occupy American cities to enforce lies? Perhaps I’ve lived under a rock (or at least rock-adjacent) for too long. When I come into The Empire, I’m truly afraid and use extreme caution when interacting with people. Unless I get a returned smile, I just avert my eyes, don’t speak, and keep walking.
I can’t end on such a sad note. I did have several discussions with Rising Buffalo about the Native world view. Our conversations were often interrupted by being distracted with beautiful scenery, or a waiter asking if we needed anything else, but the Cliff Notes of the conversations are that his world view is much more wholistic. It not only considers all people as part of humanity, and of the earth, but it also takes into account time. In talking to him about the world, he seems to assess not only where we are, but where we have come from. It’s apt that I’m next to a river that carved a deep crevice in the surface of the earth over thousands of years, a day at a time. A fire rages on the other side of the canyon, as fires have for millions of years. And eventually the forest grows back. The earth renews.
That’s all I got.
Love you like a dog
See you down the road,
Scott