Canyons Big and Small

After venturing out of the side canyon of the Havasupai Indian Reservation, we headed to the national park and the main event of the canyon system so famous in this part of the world.

Ryan had never seen the Grand Canyon before, and there was concern that that would still be the case as we pulled up to the entrance booth of the national park. “Obstructed view due to cloud cover. No Refunds,” a poster on the ranger’s window said, making Ryan and me groan. And yet, when we reached the canyon edge, this is what we saw…

Ryan and I have always counted ourselves as lucky, you know, being as we met on another continent and all, but how lucky we got in the Southwest is worth a quick aside.

The hurricane that was raging in the middle of the Pacific a few weeks ago was creating huge, rain-laden storm systems that wound up drifting right over the region that Ryan and I anticipated the least amount of precipitation. We certainly expected to be soaked in the Northwest, which never actually happened, but storms in the deserts of the southwest were never something we thought could impede our plans there. Yet, before we started our descent into the Havasu canyon system, we were warned of potential flash flooding, which has the ability to leave tourists and Havasupai alike stranded in the canyon. We took our chances (perhaps stupidly), and sure enough, it wasn’t Havasu that flooded, it was Las Vegas, where we were the night before.

As we hiked out of Havasu canyon, rain was falling and a muddy stream had formed in what was the dry canyon a few days before. While a flood watch was in effect for the canyon, flash flooding on the hike out wasn’t as a great a concern, since the trail was wide enough to avoid significant flooding. Regardless, we learned that we had dodged another bullet. Apparently, when there’s enough rainfall, the side canyons can drain into the crystal waters of the Havasu canyon, turning the pristine paradise into a muddier version that certainly does not entice swimmers.

We were marveling at how lucky we were on that front, and even more so to get a clear view of the Grand Canyon, with blue skies and only a few clouds far in the horizon.

Our luck didn’t end there though. One of the activities of the trip I was very excited for was a photographic tour of the most photographed canyon in the world. Yup, even more so than the Grand Canyon. It’s a tiny, tiny slot canyon found in an equally sized town in the middle of Navajo Nation, just an inconspicuous crack in a stone wall. Yet, Antelope Canyon is one of the most beautiful canyons I have ever beheld.

It can be deadly though, because a wall of water in that canyon is completely and utterly unescapable. And of course, the first day they were letting tours back into the canyon after the storm threat had abated was the day Ryan and I showed up for our tour. Boy do we owe some Karma to someone.

Ryan and I took separate tours into the slot canyon (being as tours are required and only I could go on the photography tour with my fancy camera), but the tours provided almost as much entertainment as the canyon itself brought awe-inspiring beauty.

Ryan’s tour was being followed by a huge group of Asian individuals who spoke not a lick of English, and were trying to be acquainted with all the formations of the canyon via their English speaking guide. Keep note that this canyon at its widest is maybe three yards across, but typically ranges between one and two yards wide. The big tour group following Ryan could easily be heard jostling and bumping about the walls of the canyon, while their tour guide would point to some feature, then point to his guide book which showed George Washington, or a dancing bear, or some other photo that the feature in the canyon was supposed to look like. “Oooooo George Waaahhh-shiiiiing-tuuuun!!” they’d all exclaim in excitement when they saw the likeness. This provided ample entertainment for Ryan as he wound his way through the canyon with his own guide.

As for me, I was grouped with four other anxious photographers and a Navajo woman I quickly dubbed “Mama Bear” who was our guide in the canyon. Mama Bear has photographed the canyon many times herself, and has been taking tour groups for the past seven years. Her job was to not only show us the best places to photograph the waves of the canyon walls, the bright sunbeams, and the dark purple corners, but also to chase all the other tourists out of our shots. Now this is no small feat given that 400 people were expected to be in the quarter mile expanse of the canyon throughout the day, and the 10:15 tour is the most popular since it affords the best light.

The result, was that Mama Bear, with her sizable girth and no nonsense bark literally sent all other tourists high tailing it out of wide chambers and narrow passageways alike. One woman made the mistake of coming into the deserted chamber where we were photographing, completely unaware of all of us with our tripods and huge lenses and stuff. I almost felt bad for her when Mama Bear noticed, and while she didn’t speak English (she may have been a part of the tour group following Ryan’s), she was quick to understand Mama Bear’s tones and gestures as she was shooed out of the way. 

Needless to say, I was glad to have Mama Bear on our side, and she conferred with the other guides in Navajo to make sure we photographers got the best opportunity to shoot. This environment also made for the most high intensity photography I could possibly imagine, with Mama Bear instructing us wear to place our tripods, what settings to try for the particular shot, and then to GO GO GO! as we raced to the next photo spot with the best light. The narrowness of the canyon means that light beams shift frequently and fast, so it goes without saying my heart was pumping throughout the process to try and get the best photos while also staying on Mama Bear’s good side. I was pretty happy with what I got.

It just goes to show how beautiful large and small canyons alike can really be.

The next part of our journey was to Zion National Park, to appear in the next blog, but it’s worth mentioning that our good luck didn’t end even with Antelope Canyon. Zion had experienced a huge, 100-year flood with logs and silt pouring down the canyon in the Virgin River just a few days before we arrived. Yet by the time we got there, the rangers were allowing hikers back into the Narrows canyon, and the road was passable for the first time the day we needed the shuttle to the beginning of the hike. Seriously. We are the luckiest people ever.

Stay tuned for the Narrows then, coming up next!