Holes in the Ground

50,000 years ago, a rock collided with the Earth at a speed of 26,000 miles per hour in the middle of what would one day be Arizona. 50,000 years later, the Burrs stood on the edge of the crater that was caused by this impact, and marveled at it.

We saw the sign for the Meteor Crater 27 miles before the turn off and thought about turning off. When we reached the turn off, we went ahead and took it, in part because it was lunch time and there was a Subway just off the road. We kept driving past the Subway, down the small road to the crater, figuring we'd eat after taking a look at it.

The crater was expansive, and Ben was duly impressed, as was I. The associated museum provided a number of interesting displays as well, and the boys ran from one to the next, pressing buttons, asking, "what's that," looking through scopes, and running between tourists with cameras and their subjects.

We ate at the Subway in the museum. Joseph peed all over the floor of the women's bathroom (evidently, he was quite prolific, having saved up the entire morning, knowing that some point in the day, mommy would change his "honies" and when she did, he'd pull the trigger and let loose). We got back in the car, and headed back to I-40 to continue our trip.

Later in the day, we passed Flagstaff and drove through the mountains of Northern Arizona. We turned off at Williams because we needed gas. Coincidentally, Williams lies on the road to the entrance of the Grand Canyon's Southern Rim.

The only time I had ever seen the Grand Canyon is when I flew over it a few years back when a company in Massachusetts flew me out for a job interview. I could tell it was big. Amy had seen it before and every time we have taken a road trip that might bring us in the general vicinity of it, she has tried to find a way to work it into the trip, but it has never worked out quite right.

Really, it didn't fit into this road trip either. It was already about 4 in the afternoon when we turned onto that road at Williams, but I thought to myself, "why not? How many times have we talked about it? When will the chance come again? So what if we're late getting into Barstow?" So, when we left the gas station, instead of turning right to head back to I-40, we turned left and headed 47 miles up the road to the Grand Canyon.

I'm glad we went. I'm glad we paid the $25 entrance fee even to see it for only an hour or so. It was Grand. We stood there on the edge of it and looked down some distance that I don't know and marveled at how gigantic it is. A couple of condors flew out a few dozen feet from the rim, floating in what must be a Mecca of updrafts for them. I heard a tour guide talking about how the condors had been raised in captivity, transplanted to the canyon, had chosen this particular part of the canyon as their home, made a nest, and successfully raised their young. I panicked as Ben walked inches from the Canyon's edge which mocks our litigous society by refusing to have a guard rail or a wall more than 2 feet high planted along it.

We didn't get to Barstow until 11 PM, but we saw two amazing holes in the ground; both caused by entirely distinct natural events: a cosmic collision that created a crater and surrounding hills and flung debris in a 7 mile radius in a matter of a few seconds, and a slow process of erosion over a period of thousands of years. I believe they left an impression upon the boys; Ben at least can tell you now how he saw the Grand Canyon, and how it was a river that ate away at the earth and now it's way down at the bottom of the canyon. I have to remind him that he saw the Meteor Crater, which probably speaks to just how truly grand the Grand Canyon is, but I recommend both.