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McGRAW 61
vast nothingness on the side of the trail, which the brochure neglected to mention, that bothered me. Yet
hikers and families were oohing and aahing over the views as though death weren’t imminent. (You should
probably keep in mind that the trail is wide enough for a mule with room to spare for a hiker to stand off to
the side.) I continued to inch my way down the trail, but rather than conquering my fear of heights, it
argued back pointing out that every step would have to be repeated on the way up.
To my great relief, a ranger was warning hikers of a storm coming in. I took that as my cue to scramble back
up the trail. That imagery suggests an agility that was not present. My ascent was more of a slow crawl
with knees shaking, and lungs wheezing and huffing and puffing. Like everyone, I stopped to take pictures,
but that was mainly to catch my breath.
I was little more than a mile into the canyon, a thousand feet below the rim, still painfully afraid of heights,
when I changed my idea of big.
ISSUE 4 | SUMMER 2021