Resetting the Wayback Machine to Dateline: August 3, 2023

After three days of admiring Grand Canyon’s North Rim–from Point Sublime…

to Point Imperial…

to Angel’s Window,

Leah and I were already anticipating our next physical and photographic challenge–hiking through the Coyote Buttes North in search of The Wave.

But we were at the mercy of Bureau of Land Management, who awards permits to no more than 64 visitors per day through a complicated online lottery process.

We scored dinner reservations at the Grand Canyon Lodge Dining Room…

during sunset to discuss our future travel plans.

Regrettably, our meal was more consolation than celebration. Despite our application for permits months in advance, and again, the day before our departure, our high hopes were dashed by impossible odds.

Ultimately, we followed our contingency plan, which, like an old friend, was familiar yet still full of surprises. The following day, we drove through Marble Canyon–flanked by Vermillion Cliffs–with a brief stop along Highway 89A to marvel at a Cliff Dwellers Stone House,

a crumbling roadside curiosity that was constructed from rock debris and local timber by Ziegfeld Follies dancer Blanche Russell and her husband Bill, whose car had broken down at this location in 1927.

According to the tale, the beauty of their surroundings was so captivating that they established a homestead on the site during the Great Depression, extending hospitality to Mormon travelers journeying along the adjacent Honeymoon Trail to the temple in St. George, Utah, for the sanctification of their marriages.

Meanwhile, we continued north on a pilgrimage of our own to Page, Arizona for a few days of essential sightseeing.

The following day, we arrived at a strip mall to claim a coveted noon reservation for a guided tour of Upper Antelope Canyon tour with an accredited Navajo tour operator. Having toured Lower Antelope Canyon 6 years ago (see Can’t Elope Canyon), we elected to hike the upper canyon this time around.

Upper Antelope Canyon, often referred to as “The Crack,” features a flat entrance and a level path throughout, offering a seamless stroll with no elevation shifts. This easy access, devoid of any stairs, renders it more welcoming than its counterpart, Lower Antelope Canyon, where stairs and ladders are part of the experience.

In my quest for photographic redemption, I was determined to infuse some mystery into the majesty of these sculpted canyon walls by focusing on the details of the form, while framing an energy of twists, curves and color.

We jostled and bounced across a dusty desert plain from the back of a dusty pickup truck, enduring temperatures of 100°F. The grab bars were so hot, I could only handle them through my hat. After arriving at the canyon’s entrance, our guide offered us a brief geology lecture and valuable photography tips.

Rather than lug around my SLRs, I relied on my Samsung Galaxy 23S Ultra phone for its reputed low-light sensitivity and high-resolution capabilities.

From the onset, our guide pointed out shapes created by negative space, such as the “Lady of the Canyon,” which seemed intriguing to many, but irrelevant to my mission.

Additionally, there was plenty of highlight and shadow play in the formations that was easily personified, such as the “Open-Mouth Man.”

Many photographers were there to capture the “sunbeam effect” that appears from April 1st to September 30th with a helping handful of tossed sand.

There was also equal opportunity to document the canyon wall formations as realistically as possible.

or using the undulating walls as an interesting backdrop.

But I was there to capture the abstract potential!

The canyon’s walls rise up to 660 feet above the streambed, and the trailhead sits at an elevation of 4,377 feet.

Geologists say the walls are shrinking and the elevation is increasing, as sand continues to rise from continuing erosion from wind and water.

The 0.3-mile one-way trail is mostly hard-packed with red sand and silt.

The Navajo Nation calls Upper Antelope Canyon “Tsé’bighanilini,” meaning “the place where water runs through rocks.” I call it amazing!

One hour later, we emerged from “The Crack.”

Antelope Canyon’s allure was so magnetic that I felt myself being drawn into repeating our adventure. However, time would not allow, and no slots were available!

Certainly, its beauty would have revealed itself in a new light, with a new twist!

Or not!