A rogue journalist slipped his chains escaping the content creation cube farm. On the run traversing the arterial highways of America, these are the Travels without Charley.
If the old adage, step on a crack break your mother’s back, is true, tourists whom visit the Grand Canyon have a massive disregard for the matriarchs of their family.
The entire canyon might be one giant act of hubris.
Originally considered one of the greatest threats to the wandering blind, the Grand Canyon has somehow devolved into a tourist attraction.
As opposed to staying home and relaxing, people migrate in droves to take part in recreational activities throughout the big crack in Arizona. For those unfamiliar, recreational activities are essentially activities our ancestors had to do for survival that we now perform in comfort and for “fun” while they roll in their graves. These includes but is not limited to activities such as hiking, kayaking, surveying land through binoculars, stargazing for non-navigational purposes, and trying not to piss off local wildlife.
For a destination that shines as a beacon for outdoor activities, where are the expendable tourists donning flying squirrel suits taking a leap of faith over the rim, cautiously held up by the ephemeral hands of the open sky as they gently glide down to the canyon floor avoiding hours of barbarous hiking?
It is not the majority but a few mind-addled tourists will even sleep outside in the canyon shedding all modern luxuries like running water. They call it, “camping.” Our ancestors called it daily life.
After gazing upon the world’s greatest crevice while walking back to your car, it is important to take in an oft overlooked feature. In the parking lot is a jagged crack that runs roughly three feet. This is the Meh Canyon. Soak it in as a palette cleanser for your return to the mundane world.