Grand Canyon
Just add water
I remember as a kid watching an episode of the Flintstones where Fred and Barney visit the Grand Canyon. They arrive to find a small shallow creek that they could easily step over. Fred tells Barney that one day it’ll be really something! I thought it was pretty funny back when I was 10 years old and I hadn’t even seen the Grand Canyon. This week I was again reminded of that Flintstones episode as 50 years on I finally got to see the real thing.
At my age it is unlikely that I will see the Grand Canyon twice. After all, there is much of the world to see and so little time. To revisit places seems just a tad wasteful. Like re-reading a book, or going back to Burger King. Tempting and enjoyable but have we really got time for repeats? The exceptions being Seinfeld and Mash.
Aware of my once in a lifetime opportunity, I took the advice of friends who said “take a helicopter as the 40 seater bus trip will bore you to death”. So helicopter it would be.
We all know that all 12 year boys want to be pilots when they grow up. Evidently, the flying schools know this and enrol the very same 12 year olds, which is the only reason I can think of that explains why all pilots look 12 years old. Our chopper pilot was no exception. His aviator glasses were bigger than his whole pimply face and his child like excitement at getting to drive a helicopter was obvious. After the usual “if we crash pull this lever” briefing we lifted gently off the airfield and the broad semi arid Nevada landscape slowly unfolded beneath us.
A couple of swoops later the Hoover dam appeared, an elegant man-made intervention in a new world. As we lazily chugged towards the Grand Canyon lake Mead stretched in in every direction except up – man’s apparent cleverness coming home to roost as the lake’s low shoreline reveals a an ever warming globe.
After no time at all, we came across the Colorado river’s entry into the lake and we entered the Grand Canyon itself. What I found most interesting was the Canyon’s context. Flat expansive empty plains on either side with the Canyon appearing as a fracture – much like if you hit thick glass with a hammer. The main Canyon the deepest, but with many side canyons appearing like splinters. What is clearly and obviously apparent when you view the canyon like this is that it has been created by water. The Colorado river appears slow and lazy from above buts it’s work and those of its tributaries relentless as they cut ever deeper.
As we descended into the Canyon I could see other helicopters below. The scale of the canyons making them appear as dragonflies. We dropped in amongst them and settled onto a rocky outcrop near the river, then hopped out into still air and a tranquil world. The canyon stretched above and around us in every direction, much like an ant must feel in a pothole. It’s the scale of the canyon that makes it famous and I was duly impressed by its depth and breadth. However, the thing I enjoyed most about it was understating where it is and why it’s there. As a geomorphological phenomenon it’s the best if it’s type (check out the pinnacles in south Wairarapa for a mini version) and so I was delighted to confirm that Fred Flintstone’s prediction had been right all along.
Happy and satisfied in my once in a lifetime visit, the next day we flew to Orlando, and would you believe it, I looked out the window and there was the Grand Canyon stretched out below like an abstract rug on a living room floor. Fate had played me a extra hand and I’d managed to see one of world’s natural wonders twice. I guess that makes me luckier than a five footed rabbit.
Richard Alexander Bain
self confessed Flintstone