“Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park NORTH Rim Drive”

• August 20, 2022
• By Daryl
• 0 Comment

The moment we took off, the skies were clear, and the sun was casting long shadows behind us as we conspired to drive Black Canyon, North Rim.
The ever-changing weather made it clear this was the best day for us to divine the day. Abundant sunshine and bales of clouds on the horizon shaped the day and confirmed my aspersion in this, the best of summer.
Off over the mountains ahead, a large billowy cloud lay like cotton candy with amber edges, casting spider-like webs grasping, clinging, surrounding the edges. The curving road traversing around cliffs on high, with the abundance of everything green, screaming; I am alive.

We turn down rolling roads, following a fault line that is going down below Gunnison Canyon. Numerous deer are foraging along the road, shocked when we abruptly slow for an infectious view. They scampering off with only a glimpse our way.

A lone ranch lay just ahead, perfectly perched with views in mind, overlooking its small creek at faults edge. Ruby thistle now and then, with Black-Eye Susans clamoring for attention, are hugging the roadways edges.

Our road took us away from that great fault, to a broad valley with a turquoise lake, framing a distant lone pinnacle at the foot of the peaks.

We passed farms and curved back to the abyssal edge. Stopped, we gaze at a “kneeling camel,” guarding a jagged point at the edge of the cavern. Casting our eyes into the distance, the ranger’s Visitors Center came into the view, from the south rim, where we stood not too long ago.

The winding, twisting route gave me glimpses of the abyss of a broad canyon, the apple of my eye. I hunger for more of the sapphire serpent, protected by miles of walls and ragged ruts. Pull-outs with short jaunts with areas protected by rails gave us confidence and a sense of safety to cast our eyes perpetually above the water-born haze. We look in awe as we pulled away to ramble back into ranch land.

We take a turn along our route, following signs to the Black Canyon. We find ourselves in primitive land, barely touched by human hands.

We walk to the prince of darknesss abyss, for like gravity, we are pulled to the precipice. There are no guard railings! Haunting anxiety lingers in the midst, for the ground is perilous with rocks, boulders with endless ways to trips. The gravity increases at we near the ledge, and I drink in the milk of my cautious.
Bunny nears the Widow-makers ledge, where she voices concern for my safety, and I think to myself, concern for hers.

I squirm like a squirrel scampering for better scenes of perfect pictures to capture. As l near the edge, the Reapers hook lay just ahead. I move to another ledge with boulders at my side for dizzy leaning with cameras, to steady my stance.

Dante is near for a tour of the devils spiraling land down past the toutqouse serpent, but I have a firm grip on the land and turn to advance along the adventure at hand. Back to the car and on to more turn- outs as the roads rambled close to the canyon, there are more indescribable stops, for we are overwhelmed at this sculptured precipice.

Our journey nears an end, for the canyon fades into the distance. Farmland comes to view again, as we meander through the countryside. A thought of pie and coffee comes to mind and becomes our journey down the yellow brick road to some pie’s lingering.