Antelope Canyon - Arizona

     A four hour drive with the windows down and nothing but Tom Petty on the radio were just a few things it took to get to Antelope Canyon, Arizona. A full tank of gas and stale gas station coffee would give me and Joe the buzz we needed to make that long and random drive. What we were suppose to see in the end would be promising and would be worth the 25 mile per hour drive through Tuba City. Tuba City is a desolate deserted area of just that; desert. A few tepee’s and rusty broken down trucks was the entire town had to offer the passerby’s. If they got lucky, you’d pull over on to a dirt road off of the freeway and see their “alien crash landing” site.

    The temperature up north was cooler than the blazing Phoenix sun. I was able to lower the windows the further north we drove. Soon my hair was wind whipped and I could barely fit my hair tie around it. I chewed through a sour green apple and it woke me up more than the cheap gas station coffee. The blistering sun was still present even though the temperature had dropped, and I could feel it baking my skin through the windshield. The drive was simple. We talked about many of the great inventions or business ideas we had, making side notes of all of the small townspeople we saw on our way up. I still wonder to this day, what people do for a living in those small towns in the middle of nowhere, with their homes high up on a hill. I either think they’re retired, criminals, or agoraphobic. Your guess is probably as good as mine.

    The navigation map on my phone is thrown in and out of service because we are so far in the middle of nowhere. From the dashboard you can see in hood of the car has been covered in a film of red dust. As I look out the front of the car an arrow points left and directs us to a parking lot full of other dusty cars. Here is the entrance for Antelope Canyon. The canyon is part of Indian Territory and it can only be accessed by the natives and their forty dollars per person fee. We’ve already made online reservations so we walk up to the front of the line and give our last names. From the corner of my eye I catch the head native sitting in a bench, in the shade, with a fan directed at him. He looks old and wise while also giving off a vibe that the whole world revolves around him. He must have done great things to be this high on the totem pole. Pun intended.

     We raise our hands as our last names are called out and board an even dustier blue pickup truck. They manage to squeeze about 15 individuals on the back of the pickup truck – with everyone holding on to the railings for dear life. A ten-minute drive through a sandy road, thank goodness for sunglasses, and you arrive at the front of the canyon. It doesn’t look like much, but we picked the peak tie of the day to see it, so our tour guide reassures us this will be good. Her name is Alaya and she is eager to share pictures of her dog on her phone. She tells us she makes the drive from Phoenix up here every weekend to work and I give her a pat on her back for driving through Tuba City so many times and not being ultimately depressed. She takes my camera and puts it on the proper setting telling me that I have no idea how many phone calls the company gets of customers complaining that their pictures didn’t turn out like the ones on their website.

    As I walk further into the canyon with my tour group, not even a crying baby in the distance can disrupt me from the view I have. Orange halos hang between the cliffs like fierce flames lighting the roof like a hot fire. Sand in thrown into the beams of sun and it falls down to the ground, dancing like a ballerina with a piece of orange silk. I am absolutely in awe of this natural piece of art. It’s as if someone were pouring cake batter in slow waves out of a bowl and it was stiffening on contact. I took as many pictures as I could to capture the moment but the pictures don’t even do Antelope Canyon justice.  I was so busy looking up for almost half a mile that I didn’t realize we had already made it to the end. We took a break on the other side of the canyon, had a sip of water, and made a pact that we all stick together as a group on our way back through the canyon as we endured visitors that were as entranced as we had just been. 

    We waited at the opening of the canyon and it was at that moment that we realized how hot it actually was. We has sweat on our upper lips, sand in our hair, and scratches on our sunglasses from the little particles in the air. I mustered out the last drop of water from my water bottle as I made me way on to the blue van. Our tour guide grew a liking for me after I asked her too many questions about herself and offered Joey and I a seat with her in the front of the van. Air conditioning and not being squished between 14 other people – DONE! As we pulled up back to the loading area we exchanged a few kind words with her and headed back to the car. A wet wipe, hand sanitizer, and a small snack later we would be on our way back h through Tuba City and back home. The wonder of the canyon went by quickly but the drive back didn’t’. I sat with my camera for about two hours on the driving going through the 300 pictures I had taken and only being satisfied with about three or four. It was really about getting the perfect angle, in the perfect lighting, with the sun shining through while it was in the exact perfect spot in the sky. The trip to Antelope Canyon is absolutely worth it, but it’s only to be done once.