Snow in the Grand Canyon

I never thought I would be so lucky to see snow in the Grand Canyon.

You see, after our eventful trip in Las Vegas, we were on the road back to El Paso and somewhere along the line we thought it would be a great idea to take a detour to the Grand Canyon. Once we made it through the rest of Nevada and made our workaround towards Flagstaff, we happened upon the strangest thing we had ever seen: snow in Arizona. Apparently it’s not unusual, but for us, snow is rare. All I ever knew about Arizona was desert, cacti, and Eleanor Shellstrop from “The Good Place”.

Once we hit the gate to the national park, we were in awe of everything we were seeing. Snow started to fall over us, a soft dusting. We paid our entry fee and drove to the overlook and realized just how severely underdressed we were for the occasion, but nonetheless we braved the snow and cold in whatever layers we could muster up, and found ourselves staring at a beautiful piece of nature.

You see, I always thought the Grand Canyon was beautiful and something everyone should see at least once in their lifetime, but this had been either my third or fourth time and I wasn’t too keen on the fact that we has taken such a long detour out of our way for this, until I saw it through your eyes. I was immediately humbled, even as I felt my hands freezing underneath my blanket. The way you spoke of the canyon, just how fascinated you were, I was reminded that this was your first time ever seeing the Grand Canyon.

And what a beautiful first time it was.

Most people go to see the Grand Canyon during the peak of summer, after school is out. Everyone is excited to blaze through Route 66 and take their quintessential family photos teetering on the edge of a masterpiece. But the Grand Canyon during snowfall has a different feeling to it. Everyone there seemed quieter than usual, more respective of nature and the beauty she provides.

I had to laugh at myself thinking we would spend 15-30 minutes tops, but the more you saw, the longer we found ourselves enjoying the view. I was eager to get back on the road, upset that we were losing daylight and afraid the roads would become too slick trying to get out of this place and back on the main road towards home.

And as we drove home, I thought about how we had a story to tell. We talked about how this was a special moment we shared together, one we could tell our kids about when we took them to see the Grand Canyon for their first time. We could tell them about how mom wanted to leave earlier and how dad was unsure about even seeing it in the first place. We could tell them about how you fell in the snow and how I laughed. We could tell them how dad loves Las Vegas and mom puts up with it because she’ll do anything to make her husband happy, even if it means staying up until 3am to see him lose money playing Blackjack. We could tell them all about how mom’s GPS likes to take random routes instead of staying on the main interstate and how we were ready to cry for three hours before we hit civilization.

We have a lifetime of travel together, which means we’ll have a lifetime of experiences together. We’ll have stories to tell until we’re 90 and wrinkly, but until then I’ll follow you anywhere.