Never Give Up

IChapter 1: Moran Point

I woke up at Moran Point inside The Grand Canyon National Park, miles away from the comfort of my home. What was I doing there? Well, I was searching far and wide for serene waters to paddle on. Day before, I had been on the Cottonwood Lake (paddle conditions on Paddling Out) and Taylor Park Reservoir (paddle conditions on Paddling Out) in colorful Colorado.

It’s never enough though, is it?

My sights had shifted to Lake Powell (paddle conditions on Paddling Out) in Utah. On my way, to slow down, I parked my hide in the Grand Canyon National Park for the night.

Traveling solo is a liberating experience. You have the freedom to explore, to observe, to simply be. With that freedom, you may transform into a child. When you are a kid, you are not afraid to try. You do it because you like it. Today, you are in the cool mountains. Tomorrow, in an unforgiving desert. All guided by impulse. Somewhere in doing so, the adult in you finds happiness.

Romantic experience though this is not! One must perform acts of deliberate discomfort. Sleeping in car is one such act. Sure, it isn’t as comfortable as your bed but it gets you going and quick. On roadtrips, starting early is as important as staying hydrated. When the rest of the world is finding their toothbrush at eight reels a minute, you must be out there. Disappear before shadows get on the other side!

IIChapter 2: Desert View

After an average sleep on the edge of the canyon, I recovered from my slumber. Excited by what lies ahead, I sprung my car to life. 6:30 am was the time on the clock. Wheels were in motion towards Desert View Watchtower for sunrise.

The drive to the Watchtower was short but long enough for me to revisit the evening of yesterday. Walking along the rim of the canyon, I had met an old couple. Old man had a map of the canyon in one of his hands and wife’s hand in another. They were patiently waiting for the sunset. We had a brief yet pleasant conversation. When asked if he may suggest a few spots to watch sunrise, he drew out his map and pointed at Hopi, Yaki, Lipan, Navajo and Desert View Points. I thought him using an old school map with locations etched with pencil was pretty cool. After bidding farewell to the couple, I was looking for a quiet spot to watch sunset.

A renowned research; ‘trust me bruh’, recommends avoiding crowd at the Grand Canyon. After a short walk, I was led to a viewpoint where solitude greeted me. It is, however, foolish to think you’ll ever be alone. There were birds around me, chirping back to their nests. Big Elks bellowed in distance. Condors circled over chasm older than all religions. There were shades of orange my eyes could barely comprehend! Like an impatient insect, my finger tapped the shutter. Golden hour and all that!

Satisfied, I remember then trudging in moonlight to my car parked near the Grand Canyon Village. They serve great pizza and fudge there. I drove to Tusayan, a small town near Park’s entrance for some Mexican food instead. Naughty wind blew away my hopes for stargazing that night. Sleeping early was a wise choice made.

As my car pulled up at the Desert View Watchtower, I marveled at the stupidity of human brain.

To see the watch tower deserted was a great start to the day.

‘Hell is other people’, after all.

It was a cold morning but my mind was hot with thoughts. I had been here before. Memories of family and friends came rushing. To think of it, One is never solo when all the memories of your loved ones are enshrined within. Imagine the memories that the canyon holds. The river that cuts through was once an ocean after all! The mind boggles at the eternal enormity!

These were not my thoughts at the time. My mind was occupied with shutter speed, aperture and ISO numbers to take better photos than yesterday. Thoughts spiraled further to plan things after sunrise. Within seconds, I was at the Lake Powell. All in my mind of course!

Like a chime in cyclone, these thoughts! Thinking about everything else but the living moment! I had to remind myself to be still. It isn’t easy to be so. Every little discomfort amplifies when you are trying to be still. The chilly wind was biting my face as I set my camera up for that perfect time lapse. My body needed warmth and fast. About forty squats and push ups later, wind felt like a sweet kiss from the woman you love. It’s an irony that to be still, I had to move. Birds on their first flight of the day watched my struggles. I don’t think they cared. Little Pikas scurried around with electric agility. I don’t think they cared either. Crows? Nah, they didn’t care at all!

Play “Sunrise in Grand Canyon” (YouTube video, plays here)

After working out at one of the best open air gym, I felt content. There’s no special reward for waking up early except that you win at everything. After a divine sunrise (an every day phenomenon) my car was moving in the direction of Lake Powell. Ahead of me was a two hour drive. I remember starting it with a prayer. Hanuman Chalisa to be precise. Vivid is my memory of feeling invincible on that drive. So much so, I was flying!

IIIChapter 3: Page

Town of Page is famous for the Antelope Canyon, Horseshoe Bend and of course, Lake Powell. I had decided to explore the Wahweap Bay area of the lake. Ahead of my schedule I was. I needed to secure water and sun screen. I pulled up at a gas station, picked up the only sunscreen available in that store (odds for this!) and some water. Two liters to be precise. I also filled up gasoline in car. Hey, if you want to get lost in the desert make sure you do so with a full tank and lots of water. I asked the dude manning the station about beaches. He suggested two. I asked him which one’s free?

IVChapter 4: Lone Rock Beach

Within minutes, I was headed to Lone Rock Beach. It was Memorial Day weekend. People were out and about in the desert. I saw young kids enjoying their dirt bikes on sandy mounds. RVs were a plenty. Lone Rock Beach wasn’t so lonely after all.

I was now approaching the road to the beach. It was a dirt road fast turning into a sandy one. I was driving a sedan. In my head, I was already at the beach. Giddy with excitement for what had not materialized yet. In that daze of delusion, I took a wrong turn and shortly after my car had stuck in sand.

I laughed. No, seriously I have been in situations worse. Where does this confidence come from I do not know. I was relaxed seeing complete cellular coverage. Such is modern life where you and I have more resources than Napoleon. Now it’s a choice. You may wallow in the mire or paddle on!

I thought of moving the car out myself. Pedal to the metal, I sunk my car deeper into the sand. Now, I was in trouble. Sand and Sedan is a toxic relationship. You think you can navigate your way out only to sink deeper in despair. I had two choices: Call the tow truck company or seek help from campers nearby.

I chose the latter and marched to a campsite where an American family was just starting their day. I was greeted by the lovely lady who assured me that getting stuck in sand at a sandy beach is not as devastating. She woke her husband up who promptly gathered his tools and walked with me to the car. He complained about the lack of warning signs along the road. “Only yesterday we had over a dozen cars stuck at the same spot you are at”, he said. In an odd way, that comforted me.

He laid out a Sand Trax Mat underneath the tires and we started to gently move the car out. It did not work. We then started digging the sand out of the way. Days like these you wish you had Pokémon.

In reality, digging a path out for a sunken sedan is a foolhardy exercise. His wife (bless her soul) went out to get some help. She disappeared and reappeared with a reassuring note that help was on the way. A Red Jeep soon showed up on the spot. Out stepped a lanky, white dude. He was a Marine. He had a toothy grin. He attached a make shift pulley to drag my sedan out of its sandy misery.

Its amazing how people show up. One simply has to ask. I had nothing to offer to the man for his assistance but my gratitude. I do not believe in giving money to people who helped me. Instead, I prefer giving them something I have. I offered the man a small token of appreciation. His eyes lit up; his grin widened. What was it? I’d rather keep it a mystery.

To the lovely woman and her husband, I offered a liter of Water. Water in the desert is like gold. They insisted I keep it for myself but I wasn’t having any of it. The Marine pointed me to correct route to the beach and bid farewell. I hopped into the car started crawling to the beach. The desert heat had a spell on me. I took another wrong turn and found myself sinking in the sand, again.

This can’t be right, I thought. I had woken up before Sunrise, worked out at the edge of Grand Canyon, drove methodically to reach the town of Page. Even had overcome an adversity early in the day. Yet I find myself in another? This can’t be right!

Thoughts hound you when you are in a difficult situation. To tame my state of mind, I prayed. I looked up, smiling,

‘You, sir, can you send the Red Jeep my way again?’, I prayed.

I could see another RV stuck in sand nearby. I wasn’t alone. The heat was hot and the ground was dry. Air around me was full of sounds. Sounds of flies buzzing around me, sounds of scurrying serpentines in the shrubs, sounds of my own despair getting louder every second that passed as I sat in my sedan. Praying that it is lifted out of the sand by Hanuman.

My prayers were answered. The Red Jeep that saved me not too long ago, was sent for me again. The Marine and I laughed heartily. ‘Didn’t I just rescue you?’ he asked with his signature toothy grin. ‘Let’s do it again’, I said without any shame or hesitation. I could sense his girlfriend (half his age) was annoyed. She didn’t seem to like that her man was Superman for free. She asked if I could pay him. I knew the Marine did not want any monetary compensation in return. To keep her cool in this sweltering heat, I offered him $20. He didn’t want to take it but Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. He had no choice but to accept my token of gratitude. I thanked them for rescuing me, again. Finally, I had my car parked at the beach. I unpacked my SUP (Stand Up Paddle Board) and readied myself for Lake Powell.

VChapter 5: Lake Powell

Heat was getting hotter every minute. Water of the lake was cool turquoise. Nature often balances itself like so. Balance is nature. Balance is necessary. Balance is the key to stay afloat when the waves tower around you, boats glide by and you are desperate to seek shelter from the scorching sunlight.

There was no shade. My shadow had disappeared, only sweat. I was now in the middle of the lake. Sound of waves crushing against the sandstones was comforting yet haunting. The day was not easy yet here I was. Fighting everything. Was this all to prove a point? To whom? Why? Thoughts!

Best way to conquer your mind is to just do things. I aimed for the Lone Rock (on which the Beach is aptly named) and started paddling at a steady pace. I had already given away a bottle of water to the lady and now I was left with a mere liter. Surrounded by water yet desperate for it. Such is life! I powered through these thoughts and approached the rock.

No shade. Desperate times. It was not funny anymore. The only sunscreen that I had scored at the gas station earlier was a gift from God. My neck, face and limbs were plastered with it. Wind was blowing hot air on my face. I circled around the Lone Rock. There was sparse vegetation nearby. Overgrown shrubbery submerged in the lake that swayed with the breeze. I sought refuge in the greens. There were spiders weaving intricate webs. Sticky, as I remember bludgeoning through some of them. Fat insects that I’d not eat unless I were Timon or Pumba. I was envious of the fishes swimming lazily nearby. What do they know about the heat? They are always underwater!

Afternoon was past. I was running out of water and energy to stay afloat. I may be infinite in mind but body is limited. Wind had dragged me far from where I had parked. I was now working against the wind to reach ashore. Classic! Giving up was not an option. So started my slow drift to the shoreline. Motorboats were creating wake as high as five feet. There’s always a bigger boat, I thought. I found a little pocket of space by the Lone Rock where a sliver of shadow had appeared. Resting for five minutes, I began my journey back.

Something floated by — a small tuft of fur at first glance. As it moved closer to look, I realized it was a rat, fighting the same waves as I was. It’s stakes far higher than my own. It was moving its tiny limbs, desperate to stay afloat and alive. It was headed for the Lone Rock. Waves were crushing it underneath and yet it’d float up and try again. It was getting nowhere. Water can be unforgiving. It is life and death at the same time.

I had to intervene. I had a plan. Extending the paddle, I was gently trying to help it stay afloat. It wasn’t as easy as I thought. Waves would push me away just as I had the rat on my paddle. I’d try again, drifting closer and trying to prop it up. Every boat speeding by would thwart my attempt to save the rat. I would not forget the moment when I had the rat on my paddle and it was too exhausted to breathe. Its beady little eyes were shutting off. Was I witnessing death in real time? I prayed I wasn’t. Before I could safely put it on my paddle board, another boat sped by causing a massive wake and this time the rat was flung out of my reach.

Now I couldn’t see it anymore. I looked around for over five minutes yet I couldn’t see any signs of life. Only turquoise waters swelling several feet high with every motor boat that sped by. Did it drown? I wondered. The thought of it made me sad. I could remember the eyes I saw not too long ago. Failure sucks and I had failed to save a life. One cannot change nature. It was nearing 3 pm and I had run out of drinking water. Move now, mourn later. With heavy heart and sapped energy, I began to move to the shore.

Thoughts were hounding me. I turned around went near the Lone Rock again. Scanning water for signs of life. Found none and my world turned bit gray. The waves were unrelenting now and the wind was picking up. I was now out of drinking water. I had to turn back. Dear Lord, I tried.

And there it was! I could not believe it. I rubbed my eyes like it were a cartoon! Only this was too real. How did that tiny life found strength to not only fight the towering waves but also reach to the Lone Rock? My heart was filled with happiness. The rat was clinging on to the rock (a near ninety degree incline) with its tiny paws. Every now and then the waves would submerge it and yet it clung on. Upon closer inspection, there were more rats, holding on the rock. Our protagonist was now firmly tucked in a crevice and safe from waves. God is great. I remember drifting to the shore in a happy daze. God is great!

VIChapter 6: The Dust Devil

As I reached shore, my energy was spent completely. I needed to carry my paddle board to my car. I had more items to carry so I decided to keep the board at a nearby campsite. It was occupied by two girls who were about to hit water. I approached them and asked if I may park my paddle board for a moment and come back after I had dropped some items in car. The girls agreed and I quickly started moving to the car.

Someone was watching over me. Who? I do not know. Every moment that day was a challenge. Waking up in car, fighting the morning cold, making it to the lake, getting stuck in sand, getting rescued, getting stuck again, getting rescued again, fighting the waves, the heat, mind, thoughts. It was not easy. My feet were sinking in hot sand as I was moving to my car. Deserts are so unforgiving. I saw a Dust Devil.

I laughed as it grew in size in front of my eyes. Surely it won’t be heading my way, I thought. Until it was. I braced myself for a sandy smack. I was being tested. Adversity after another! I was praying it’d hit me. Yeah, I am used to the suffering now. What will a few grains of sand do to me? I am invincible. I had just seen a rat fight for its life and win. What am I moaning about? Dust Devil? Bring it on, bitch! It had other plans.

It changed its direction. It moved to the shore side. A few tents fell victim to it. They were lifted above ground, spun carelessly and tossed away. Desert, as I said is very unforgiving. I turned around and started walking to the car. I turned back to gauge where I need to return again to pick up my paddle board.

What paddle board? I could not see it. I remember putting it by the girl’s campsite and now both were missing. I was not prepared for this. The Dust Devil had toppled their tent and thrown my paddle board into the lake. It was now drifting away from the shore.

I started walking back to the shore. I made it to the girl’s campsite. One of them was setting their tent back up again. I could not see the other. I politely asked if they had seen my paddle board after the Dust Devil’s trickery. She smiled and pointed to the lake. Her friend was swimming to my paddle board. She had grabbed it and was bringing it back to the shore. Angels.

I struck up conversation with the girl at the campsite. Her name was Hayley. I offered her help in setting their freshly destroyed tent. That’s the least I could do. We also had a chat about paddling. She and her friend were going to just chill for the day. Next morning, they were headed to the Antelope Canyon via Lake Powell. A truly scenic route, I might add. She asked me where I had been paddling so far. I don’t remember what I told her. I was just euphoric that despite having my SUP thrown into the lake by a Dust Devil, an angel was bringing it back ashore, saving me the trouble. Another angel stayed with me, to comfort me.

Soon her friend brought my paddle board ashore. Her name was Ashley. I apologized for the trouble she had to go through to get it back. She and her friend simply smiled and said to me that ‘it was a good practice’. I probed further what she meant by ‘a good practice’?. They were state level swimmers for Arizona. This blew my mind. What were the odds of me putting my paddle board at a campsite of angels who were champions at swimming? God is great!

I had to express my gratitude. I again offered them something that I had.Their eyes lit up. I had a gift every aware human being would love. What it was shall remain a mystery.

I was smiling on my way back to the car. It was nearly 4 p.m. I had been looked after and how! I had not eaten food all day but had gobbled up experiences that’d keep me satiated for years to come. That kind couple, the Red Jeep, the Rat and the Angels were all sent for me. They saved me in ways I never thought was possible. Every time I neared a breaking point, something clicked. Something that kept me going. Something that took my soul out of the deep dark hole of despair. Something which reminded that one must..

Never Give Up!