Rocks and Us - Day One

"... Are we really here?" Somehow, Moumita had read my thoughts. My exact thoughts. Standing by those cold railings, holding them, looking at probably the deepest sudden-depression on dry earth with the gradually forming dark clouds in its background, when I had decided to put down the camera and had savored the sight of the Grand Canyon for just a few seconds,  this was my precise thought - Am I really here?

This was a very important trip for our little group. It was probably our last one as THE group. When we had set out to catch the flight from Louisville (packed in Asish da's Camry), we already had that sense of a little accomplishment in us - one year, three grand trips! We had a little circus of delayed flight and car rental mess at the airports, but the gang had only started to make its story on that long weekend. "But we cant stop having fun!" was the war-cry and we set out for the Grandest of all Canyons.

No, we didn't go to the sky-walk, but chose the South rim instead. People say, slant sun-rays present you with the best of scenic views. I was not lucky enough to be there at sunrise or sunset, but I was there at a rarer moment - partly dark sky with the thick cylindrical space of "its raining only there" visible at the infinity. I had not expected that. Absolutely not. (and I must tell you, yet again, my photographs have not been able to do justice to the actual feeling of being there.)... And this is where I heard Moumita giving voice to my exact thoughts.

I had never seen Asish da getting so passoinate about clicking a picture. But this time, at one of the view points, we was flat on his belly, on the soil of Arizona, in an attempt to capture the best of what his view had sparked in him. Sukanya di, was only smiling and Soumen was having it difficult to get a steady shot of Asish da in the middle of his laughter!

It was not just the vastness, but the the physical depth of  the depression and the lonliness in the air (no sound, except the air itself brushing on your ears), makes you feel a little sorry for the place. Its like a really really huge painting, which no one can take home. It feels like craving for company. Yet, in my mind, it looks beautiful. Although, not everyone has such a depressing take. Moumita, (again) was the one to voice it with some joy - "Ei Akaash Amaar Mukti" was the song which she sang (and which Soumen pretended to hum along with some "Lalala"!)

I had gotten my US driver's license only three days ago and was quite excited to drive (others were feeling a very different kind of excitment on their nerves with me behind the wheel!) But, even if an SUV was something I had only reversed a few feet, that too a whole year back, I believe I did a nice job in that rain and hail and single lane roads on our way to Antelope Canyon. And Thank God there was a hailstorm strong enough to white-out my visibility, making us stop on the shoulder and re-confirm the direction. As it turned out, we have been going in the completely wrong direction for the last 19 miles. 

And again, thankfully we were two hours late for our 1 pm appointment with the tour people. Or else we would have missed the "this 3 pm is my favorite light condition" words from our super amazing tour guide. She was from the indigenous group of people of that area and an amazing photographer. She told us all about the flash floods in the canyon, strange acoustics, pretend-blaze lights bouncing and re-bouncing on the narrow parallel walls and helped us take some startling photographs.

Undoubtedly, the Antelope Canyon was the second jewel on the crown that day. Surreal - the only word that comes out upon looking at the waves on its walls. Looking at something for real, which you have only seen as award winning photographs in those magazines, does make it worth the pain. (Although, for some unknown reason, Asish da was getting restless looking for "terra-cotta")

I don't know if sometimes some superior force listens to me wishing, but it was getting a little suspicious in my mind about the sky conditions that entire day. It was more than what I had hoped for. Soumen was driving now and the way I was looking at it, he was driving right towards the dark clouds. For some reason, it was feeling like diving into the clouds (some credit for that goes to the speed Soumen was playing with). With random lightening in the distance connecting the grasslands with the blackness in the sky, there was even a complete rainbow on the east sky. You don't get to see that in the concrete jungle.

That entire day, we were not sure in which time zone we were (Seriously! We weren't). One spot seemed to be in Pacific, one in Mountain time zone. And then again, there was a confusion if the Navajo areas followed the Daylight saving time or not. We were not very sure of the time when we reached the Monument Valley Park, again under the maintenance of the indigenous Red Indian people.

The fact that the native American people have been here since the beginning of history (and have been named "Indian" just because Mr. Columbus though anywhere he lands is India), there seems to be a very harmonious bond between the roughness of the rocks and the people living there. They worship the sun, the thunder, the sand storm, the rain, the sky, the eagle and these beautiful brown rocks. At times I feel, that human history started as nothing but a story of finding harmony in living. But somewhere, it lost the core idea - may it be on the grounds of religion, economy, power... and just remained a skeletal continuation of mere existence, not living.

The time confusion did not end till the end of that day. Syncing phone time with a central server time had almost cost us our dinner that night. The sleepy town of Moab, for some reason, denies the time zone surrounding it. Thankfully, a Subway outlet kept itself open till 9 (which we had assumed "Relax. Its only 8 now. See my mobile."). The next day I had to wake up at 4:45, so I put the alarm for 3:45 and dived to catch some sleep after 40 hours.

Rocks and Us - Day Two

As the order goes within the group, no one was late for the 530 huddle in front of our vehicle, all packed. It was again the case like Alaska, where we did not get to see how our hotel looks is daylight. But, nevertheless, we were more excited to see the Arches National Park than our nice little hotel. 

Asish da opened the driving that day and after stuffing ourselves with some good breakfast, we entered the premises of the Arches. And with so many flat vertical rocks, one standing in front of the other, you can actually see the phenomenon of sunrise till very late. The stone faces are half orange with the rays and half in dark shadows.

In this area, it is a little surprising to see wherever there is a huge rock, there are holes put through them. And if the "putting a through hole" process had gone a little too far, the rock is eroded on all its side to give a shape good enough to tickle the human imagination.

The heat was very evident that day. The area was not very high from sea level and lacked trees. Living in such conditions is an achievement in itself. This was the first time when we realized that even harshness can be home. And home is always beautiful. Soumen and I walked up to this Arch and felt like a pair of Pumas descending down the rocks to get its sunny side. Even though, we both had normal wide angle lenses (exactly the same cameras, actually), it barely fit in. Nevertheless, the task of finding the proper foot and back rest among the rocks itself felt kind of exciting.

The advantage of starting well ahead of the "convenient hours" was very evident when we saw the queue at the park entry not less than 70-80 cars long, while we had entered as a single car in that entire stretch of the road. And the feeling good had only started. Again, I was behind the wheel but this time the only excitement in the rest of the passengers was of seeing the Bryce Canyon. Although, 75 (or 70 or 65 or 60 or whatever ...) was meant to be the upper limit of the speed, it is an unwritten convention among the interstate drivers that these numbers only get a treatment of a lower limit. Hence, my speedometer was oscillating between 90 and 97. And, dude! you surely feel a rush driving an SUV through a desert, wearing a dark sunglasses (just for the sake of style!).

I wont lie. I had underestimated the Bryce Canyon looking at Google images. But when I walked up to the edge and saw what lies in front of me, I stood speechless (at a safe distance). It totally resembled the myth  which tells about people turned into stones by magic. The canyon looked like a huge (really huge) ballroom where people are standing in there own peer groups, making silent conversation, ready for the music to start. The only problem being, they seem to have been waiting since forever and the music does not promise to start anywhere in near future.

Suddenly, it came to the other four of our group to walk a trail. One and half miles, along the rim of the canyon. It was something without water and seemed never ending (afterall "Bheto Bangali Never Does Any Trail in Ayemerika"). But when the pain in the feet finally felt hopeless and became easy to ignore, the trail seemed like a good setup to talk to myself. Walk and Talk. When finally  the end came, there was a feeling of an attainment in spite of the aching calfs and gaspings for breathe... Sort of its own reward.

We were not done yet! Thanks to the amazingly analytical brains of Asish da and Soumen, we concluded that we might not reach Zion National Park in time (Bryce had taken more than expected). Soumen took the wheel now. With the route set up in the GPS and in the Google maps of our phones, we started. We didn't have the hopes to catch the shuttles to roam inside the park, but we did manage to get inside it and take a road that was perfectly suited to take us through some of the natural beauty of the park and land us in our final destination of for that day.

Like the morning, the sunset was also visible on the nearby rocks (partly orange, partly in shadows). The least attractive of all that we had seen that day, we still manage to make a story out of yet another trail Soumen, Asish da and I did. Sukanya di and Moumita decided to stay back in the car while we three went out to see a view point "only 10 mins away", starting with stairs made on the rock. We climbed and we climbed and we climbed. We were cautious not to slip off the narrow edges and when we were told by the hikers going in the opposite direction, that it is only 2/3rd of the hike, we were determined to murder that "only 10 mins away" guy. But when we finally reached the top, the sunset had yet again proved its agelessness.

It was like a vast corridor suddenly opening in front of us. We climbed on the highest rock and took some pictures and then remembered that the ladies in the vehicle are surely breathing fire. That was the quickest descent we did. And I would not like to talk about what happened when we returned. Except the exceptionally skillful driving of Soumen along those single lane roads and the deadly U-turns in the dark while coming down the park. And the dinner crisis (again) before we could spot that almost closed Chinese Restaurant on our way to Vegas.

Yupp, Vegas was our last stop of this tour. Every soul in the car was "re-happified" to see the lights of Las Vegas from Interstate-15. But Vegas-ing had to wait till the next day evening. All we needed now was sleep! A visit to one of the most hostile places in the United States awaited us the following morning.

Rocks and Us - Day Three (with Vegas)

For the first time in our vacations, we could afford to wake up like some lazy bags of sand. It was absolutely fine even if we could start by 6:45 to 7 in the morning. And that's what we did. I had been to Vegas once before and the same word came to me like it came the first time I had seen Las Vegas in daylight - dull. Seems like the entire town is in a hangover. Nevertheless, a breakfast at a McD and we were out for the hottest National Park in the United States (hottest as in temperature-wise).

With the Nevada  desert all around us, I had not expected the Death Valley National Park to appear distinctly different. But it was. The rugged and primitive land forms seem to have remained unchanged since the dinosaur age. I have always been a patron of a sky full of clouds. But this time, I did not want that to happen. I wanted to see the place like it is meant to be seen - raw. On my huge-watery-dark-eyes-like-Puss-from-Shrek-movies request, Asish da agreed to drive from there on.

When we say desert, we first think of sand and sand. This was a little different. It was rocks. It may have been the actual beauty of the place or some seriously good packaging by the US department of tourism, it looked beautiful. So hostile, so merciless, yet so beautiful. All shades of brown, sometimes bordering in the range of orange and yellow and red, different layers of rocks looked like a living document of the age and events of the earth.

It had started to appear like a constant realization - "Its a planet where we live". Quite an obvious fact, but it has been hitting me more strongly than ever, away from the distraction called civilization. The same was in Yellowstone, in Alaska and now in Death Valley (I am yet to have this feeling in other continents). While inside the Artist's Drive, the elevations and the dips and the turns and stone covers and the sudden revelation of the open landscape, it was not very difficult to gauge that even the roughest of terrains have that power to make themselves so damn attractive.

The more you see the merciless vastness, the more you begin to wonder about the "save the planet" campaigns seen everywhere these days. Do we humans have it in us to save the planet? Was it not here before we were? Will it not be here long after we are wipped out? There are believer of the fact (including me) that the planet does not need our saving, the need for saving is for us humans. Like everything else on this planet, we are a mere part of the balance. We disturb its delicateness, we get disturbed ourselves. The planet can always come up with a substitute species for humans. It doesnt bother.

For reasons to keep resembling my picture in my passport, (minus the added chubbiness over the years) I used my hand kerchief to cover the part of my face left open after wearing a cap and sunglasses. It was indeed the hottest place we have even been. The frailness of our existence was even more clear to us when we were greeted by the Devil's Golf Course. It appeared like nature has perfected barrenness here. No sign of vegetation, only salt flats for miles. To be able to stand there and soak in the sight takes a little bit of extra time, so that you can start by believing that you are actually standing alive in the place which calls itself Death Valley. The only ray of hope is that you know there is a tar-paved road less  than quarter of a mile away which you can take to get out this place.

The term "xyz meters above sea level" has always confused me a little. I am not sure, if by "above sea level" one means a distance radially outward the earth's lithosphere. If it is so, then my next theory might make sense. At a place called Badwater Basin, it was specifically marked 282 ft BELOW sea level (82 meters) - making it officially the lowest point in the entire continent. Now, when some one says "lowest", by that sea level theory in my mind, I automatically consider it closer to the core of the earth. No doubt, it was hot as hell (almost, literally).

It was a Panda Express for lunch in the town of Shoshone close to the CA-NV border. We were exhausted. Seriously exhausted. but we knew we were not yet done. Back in our hotel in Vegas, we could catch some rest before sundown. When we woke up, we were neck deep in the feeling that we deserve a memorable night out in the mad city out there. The flight delay, the sleeplessness, the early mornings, the trails, the drives, the hunt-for-food, the dehydration... but also the breath-taking-ness, the rain at the Grand Canyon, the perfect rainbow, the magnificent lights, the group fun on the road, and the silent remembrance that this might be our last time, we knew that Vegas was the perfect place to write the epilogue.

Since I had been there before, I was crowned the unofficial tour guide. For the people with similar upbringing and inhibitions as mine, I think I did not disappoint the group. There was the must see Bellagio Fountain, some gambling (only Asish da won, again!), walking inside casinos like Ceaser's Palace et cetra and experiencing the stunning "pretend sky" lighting of Venetian. I must admit that money does not startles me that much as much what people create using it does (or how people just throw it away does). Other than holding the Wonder Woman by her waist for a photograph (first time, I was not excited about Batman also being there!), there was no sin committed in that city.

We were back when it was only 1 am ("only" by Vegas standard) and were under the impression that the quota of trails is over. Well, we were wrong. When we landed in Dallas from Phoenix the next day, our connecting flight was not less than half the airport across with barely 10 mins to spare once we had alighted. We ran! Like crazy - on the moving side walks, on the escalators, on the subsequent escalators, on the floor (and I think Asish da ran inside that airport sky-link trains as well!). But when we were finally at the boarding gates, we were complimented by the attendants (announcing final calls and waiting for only the last 5 passengers) that we sure know how to fly! Once seated, all we could do was gasp fpr breath and laugh!

The drive from Louisville to Lexington too had something strange! The energy level. Somehow, it refused to die. Loud laughters, jokes, jokes about me, recalling incidents, jokes about me, narrating amazement, jokes about me, songs etc. were on full fire! 

Yes, we were not wrong about that sense of achievement four days ago. For us, it always took more than what is generally called a relaxing vacation, but it has always been equally rewarding. Every little hardship is a little story, every milestone is an inspiration, every awestruck-ness is a reward and every photograph is a reflection of that madness which we five put as "Cholo,ticket ta kete phelte hobe toh" :)

Till next time,

Cheers!