While living on the north rim, I woke each morning to gaze deeply into the heaven and hell that is the Grand Canyon carved by the mighty Colorado.
Each week pedaling my bike through desert heat and desiccating wind to Point Imperial and Cape Royal, my breath stolen by dry desert air, gazing through Angels Window a vertical mile down into the grand abyss, the ruddy river, a mere thread in tortured desert fabric.
Off in the distance: Painted Desert, Mount Hayden, Vishnu Temple, Wotan’s throne, Cheops pyramid,
Warmed by sun-drenched stone, my fascination with those isolated destinations is far outweighed by my yearning for the journeys the locations beckoned but the solitude seduced.
Desert Dweller 