Rachel George environmental interaction #2 out west

 Rachel George environmental interaction

Over Thanksgiving break, I had the great privilege to travel to the wild wild west. We did four significant hikes.

The first day was at The Valley of the Fire State Park. People often associate Nevada with Las Vegas. A strip and overcrowded city geographically in the middle of nowhere, but as you hit the highway out of sin city, the landscape becomes flat and desolate desert. You can see mountains in the distance for miles and miles, all a muted tan color that seemed to blend with everything, even the grey sky that day. Eventually, there was a flash of red. The valley of fire stood steadfast to its name. All of a sudden, we were surrounded by red sandstone. We instantly pulled the car over and sprinted towards nature's jungle gym! There was a sign placed for visitors to see. It said climbing was allowed at your own risk and to remain respectful of the landscape. The rocks were warmed from the sun and felt alive. As I climbed to the top of that big rock, I noticed how Nevada was so flat and vast that I could look out and see for great distances. It reminded me of the idea of the cosmos. Everything the light was shining on felt like mine. I had been served a visual feast for my eyes, and it allowed me to convert those images from experiences to one that now forever lives in my memory.

The next day we did the Grand Canyon. We hiked down the north rim in Arizona, and as Dr.Reddick would say, "the trail will kick your ass every day." This one certainly did my toes hurt from hours going down. However, the pain and exhaustion felt worth it. It was a different type of hiking experience because it was not one of destination but one of experience. We were surrounded by so much beauty that the pain acted as a way to empty our minds of mindless unimportant thoughts of the village(kenosis) . Once we were empty we were left with only the present moment of one foot in front of the other. 

The third day was Buckskin gulch and the towering slot canyons. We wove through the maze of sandstone that had been shaped by violent flowing water that dug out pathways in the stone. If you walked quietly enough in the slot canyons, you could hear the sound of wind singing as noise bounced off the walls and down the natural tunnels. There were petroglyphs from ancient civilizations etched into the stone; these drawings helped me connect to the ancient past indigenous tribes that were there long before I was. 

Zion National Park is the best for last, the true oasis in the middle of the desert. It was breathtakingly beautiful everywhere we turned. God took their time with that place. We did Angels Landing, which was by far the terrifying hike I've ever done since the last half mile was only 3 feet wide ridgeline. It was impossible to be anywhere else but inside your body because of one mistake. Once at the top, my heart burst with pride and joy as I clung to a massive rock with relief and proceeded to do a victory dance after kissing flat, stable land. I had my favorite feeling up there, the one where I felt small. My troubles felt small, and my time on this planet felt short. Compared to the plates that moved and the rock that was layered and weathered to perfection. I am only an itty bitty blimp in the timeline... but what a magical blimp it is. I get to be alive and experience this world through this body, and I get the pleasure of loving the ones I love.