A few weeks
ago Jim, my photo-guy and I visited with a long-lost high school friend of his
in Arizona. Descended upon might be the
better definition, since we showed up with luggage and every camera, lens, and
gadget Jim owns, along with Truman, the tripod, of course. Jim hadn’t been in touch with his friend for
years, and a week-long visit with near strangers made me a bit nervous, but as
it turned out, we had a wonderful visit and made some fabulous new friends.
We’d visited
Arizona before, even got to the South Rim of the Grand Canyon, but our new/old
friends planned an itinerary that blew our minds. Not only were we in for a day at the canyon,
but we took in Sedona, Jerome, the Desert Botanical Garden, The Museum of
Music, and had a cruise on Lake Pleasant.
Now I only have to worry about what we’ll do when they visit us in
Washington. They’re a tough act to
follow!
But back to
the Canyon. We didn’t have the greatest
weather; in fact, we actually had snow falling on us for the part of the
day. No worries, since Jim and I are
Alaskans by nature, and cold weather is our preference. The views into the canyon were somewhat
obscured by clouds and gray skies, but with Truman for support, Jim got some
great shots – in fact more than 400.
How does one
write about a natural wonder that’s been described in millions of words? To say it’s breathtaking is just not
sufficient. As we worked our way along
the rim, we realized that words, pictures, breathing just doesn’t come close to
sharing the grandeur, the scale, the scope of this magnificent place.
So on to the
gift shop – a natural segue to the next phase of our journey. In browsing among the native artifacts,
paintings, photographs, knickknacks, maps, etc., I happened to spy a book that
seemed to call to me like a siren’s song.
I’m an avid reader of non-fiction like biographies and histories, but
surely this title, “Over the Edge: Death
in Grand Canyon,” didn’t fit those categories.
After visiting several shops, I found myself drawn again to that
compelling title and after much hemming and hawing, I bought the thing. It’s big (591 pages) and heavy (1 lb. 13.2
oz.) but I fit it in my suitcase and brought it home. Never did I imagine that there are so many
ways to die in a huge gap in the ground!
When Truman
and Jim took an evening stroll along the rim, I opted to stay warm, but his
description of what happened next made me thrilled to know that he wouldn’t be
a topic in the revised version of the above-mentioned book. It seems that he was using an ND filter for
his lens in gusty conditions and next thing he knew, said filter flew from the
wall in front of him, to the shelf beyond the wall. I think he underplayed the gasps of dismay
emitted by the visitors near him, as he climbed over the wall to retrieve the
case. His explanation sounded a lot like
– “no problem; the shelf was stable and I had Truman to steady me.”
What can I
say? I’m glad I wasn’t there; I’m happy
that I wasn’t the shrewish wife yelling that her spouse had lost his mind; I’m
pleased that Truman is now considered my hero; actually I never had a doubt
that he would be OK since he’s extremely cautious around danger. The bottom line is that we moved on to our
next adventure, slightly more solicitous of Truman and the role he plays in our
never-dull lives.
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