Upper Antelope Canyon

This post gives you: (1) tips on how to plan a trip here, (2) the story of my interactions with Logan, who grew up exploring the canyons before they were tourist destinations, and (3) my reflections on visiting one of the most iconic photography locations in the world with only an old iPhone. Read on below…

Upper Antelope Canyon

Before planning a trip to see the canyons there are a handful of things you need to know. First, you can’t just show up, you need to pay for a tour (and they book up in advance)! The canyons are owned by several Navajo families, and they have authorized only several tour companies to operate tours. Second, the tours aren’t cheap or very long (often just 1-2 hours). Third, the famous “beams of light” in Upper Antelope only occur for part of the year. They start in late spring and peak in June. Fourth, each slot isn’t that long in distance. If you were to walk through Antelope, Owl, or Rattlesnake Canyons without stopping it wouldn't take more than a few minutes. Fifth, depending on the time of day you go you may be jammed into Antelope canyon so many people it’ll feel like Disney World. (To deal with this they now sell “photography tours” at times when they limit the number of others in the canyon - for a premium). Sixth a different set of Navajo families own '“Lower Antelope Canyon”, so if you want to see that you have to book a completely different tour.

Taken together, does this mean don’t go? No way!

I loved my morning in and above the slots. I’ve never been in anything like them before. The shape of rocks, the colors, the shadows … even with others around was more than worth it. I also picked the time of my tour (early morning) and the tour company carefully to mitigate a number of the issues. (More on this below…)

The shadows in Upper Antelope Canyon were magical

Exploring Rattlesnake Canyon

After agonizing over which tour to take, I choose Antelope Canyon Photo Tours. It was expensive, but I had a fantastic morning! When the other family that was supposed to be part of my tour didn’t show up, my tour ended up being a private one. So I got all morning alone with Logan, a Navajo man who had grown up literally next to the canyons. He had so many stories of both him and his family camping, hiking, riding, and even partying in the slots (in the 1980s and 1990s). In addition to the nature, I was fascinated to hear about what his Navajo heritage meant to him, the debates they were having in the schools now around continuing to teach the language, the recent economic uptick in Page all due to Canyon tourism (apparently almost no one came to the Canyons before the late 1990s), the recent building of a $1,000+ / night Amman hotel near the canyons (my Best Western cost $59 by contrast and it was great), as well as the controversy over closing the local coal plant which locals believe is causing high cancer rates.

When we weren’t talking about those broader topics, he was a man on a mission! He had his tour down to an art. He moved fast, knew exactly where to stop, which angles to take pictures at, and what settings to use. He told me he’d stop more if I wanted, but I felt guilty slowing him down, even though I was the client! In retrospect, that is another good learning for me, and entirely consistent with the rest of my life I need to speak up for what I need versus always trying to appease whoever I’m with and silently feeling frustrated.

My guide. As you can see the geology is very different here than in the Upper Antelope Canyon with its overhangs that make you feel like you are in a cave

On the bright side, we had wonderful time talking and exploring for almost four hours through multiple slots, and other than Antelope Canyon, we were completely alone in all of these slots. My favorite was Mountain Sheep - which was the most remote (our giant truck almost got stuck multiple times on the way there and back).

My guide walking ahead into Mountain Sheep Canyon.

At the back of the slot, after getting through all the usual paths, he asked me if I wanted to go “up and over, instead of back through the canyon”. Of course I did!

At times, it got to be a bit precarious. But it was more than worth it.

Here we had to grab hard on the bush to pull ourselves up. Definitely not on the normal trail… but take a look at the rock formations we found on the top in the next set of photos!

Looking down into Owl Canyon - on another one of our off road adventures (this one was less precarious). I wish someone was down there for scale. It was probably at least 20 feet from the top where I was standing to the bottom.

Not only were some of the views down into the slots breathtaking, but I also loved hearing how our scrambling made him think of his childhood and his brother. It was clear he looked up to his brother (even as an adult) - and had so many fond memories of adventuring with him when they were children.

The main disappointment of the morning was that I didn’t have my camera during any of the adventures, just an iPhone. On the bright side it opened up better conversation and the ability to be more adventurous. I also felt like I got some okay shots Antelope, but I know with my big camera and tripod it would have been totally different. Even though Upper Antelope Canyon is so well photographed, expensive to get into, and busy, I still want to come back later with all the right gear someday soon. (Also - to any photographers reading this - definitely use a wide angle lens!)

Near the entrance to Upper Antelope Canyon. We were lucky that no one else came into the canyon for more than 15 minutes after we entered it.

Little Colorado River Navajo Tribal Park

I found this place of pure wonder when I pulled off the road ~20 minutes to the east of the Grand Canyon National Park on highway 64. It was marked simply by a sign that said “scenic view”. From the road it was unclear what scenic view there’d be.

After a brief walk from the parking area the canyon edge, my jaw dropped. During all of my hiking in the National Park I only got brief glimpses of the lower canyons and the river below. I was mostly near the rim. Here, so close to the park entrance, everything was changed. It was all flat desert (with some mountains further away) and then just one, very deep cut into the desert that hid the River below. I hadn’t realized just now deep the lower canyons were, or the strange shapes the river twisted and turned.

I had plans to rush onward to Horseshoe Bend from there, but I found the view so arresting at the edge that I lingered for over an hour to watch the colors turn on the canyon walls.

Today was yet another affirmation that the best things in life often emerge when you leave space to be surprised, and are willing to say yes to adventures with unknown look-outs.

When I left the sun had already set behind a small mountain range, however the ranges to both the east and the north held the light and glowed a vermillion hue for what felt like an hour as the rest of the world turned to darkness. I wish I’d been able to capture it, but I don’t think it could be captured photographically. The scale of it was too immense. Below is one photo I did grab on my iPhone when many miles later the road hugged near one of the ranges.

I apologize for the truly terrible iPhone photo, but it gives you a sense of how the rocks held the color more than an hour after sunset. These rocks were close. What was more remarkable for looking out to the horizon and seeing miles and miles and miles of mountains like this lit up from far away.

My 2019 Sabbatical - Reasons, Goals, Plans, and Early Learnings

Friends and family - I have exciting news! I’ve left my job and embarked on a year-long sabbatical. I feel energized, joyful, nervous, and hopeful for what lies ahead. I want to share with you my reasons, my goals, my tentative plans, and what I’ve learned so far. I also want to let you know how to best support me during this time. (Keep reading below…)

Reasons:

I’m more than a decade into my career, and I feel so grateful for the jobs I’ve had. I’ve learned so much, been challenged intellectually, and met so many brilliant colleagues, bosses, and leaders. The work has been rewarding in many ways, including equipping me to serve several non-profits I am passionate about, especially the Minnesota Orchestra. 

However, over Christmas when a friend asked me what I was hoping for in 2019 (both at work and more broadly) – I went blank. As I reflected, I realized I’d have been equally nonplussed if he’d asked me, “What are you hoping for in the rest of your life?” 

Why? Yes, 2017 and 2018 were full of setbacks. However, I thought I’d weathered them and responded with grit. When my two mentors quit at work, I doubled down, earned new responsibilities, higher pay, and a new title. When some of the most important relationships in my life fell apart, I was devastated, but I worked hard to make new friends. When my grandmother was diagnosed with cancer, I tried to make the best of it, and made sure to see her 1-2 times per week. When I felt my body and mind were getting weak from obsessing on work, I recommitted to piano lessons, running 15-20 miles every weekend, learning to rock climb, and reading several books per month. My CV for 2017-2018 was full, and these experiences helped me grow. However, as I reflect now, I realize my ways of thinking and being were the same as before – as were my goals, dreams, and fears. I was fundamentally the same person, just further along “the achievement path.” I was tired, but onwards I went – soldiering on, working hard to find and earn the next affirmation.

Until January -- everything changed. In the aftermath of it all, especially my grandmother’s death, a number of things became clear to me. One, I too will die. Even if it is decades away, it will come soon. Two, my “achievements” felt hollow. Three, at the deepest level I was not happy – not in general, and certainly not with myself. Four, I knew so many people wanted to care for me, and yet I felt trapped in my loneliness and isolation. Five, I was exhausted. Yes, I could probably keep on keeping on, but increasingly I was asking myself, “why bother?”. And lastly, I knew I should be overwhelmed with grief, but I felt emotionally deadened, and I couldn’t find any tears. 

These were not happy revelations. And initially I didn’t know what to do with them. Thankfully, a number of unexpected conversations (with strangers, friends I hadn’t spoken to in years, and mentors) changed that. In these conversations I learned many of their stories. In many of them there was a moment when the bottom dropped out and that person chose (or was forced to choose) to make a radical break from the path they had been on. For those that embraced the invitation to change – the person often ended up taking 6-12 months away from “life as usual”. Some explored new passions, some healed, others went deeper into their old passions in new ways. For all of them this “time-away” led them to re-examine themselves, dream new dreams, and try living differently than before. Some came back to their prior field, some moved on. All of them said the experience transformed them. 

Hearing these stories struck a chord for me, and immediately I knew that I needed to take a sabbatical. Moreover, I realized I have the time, health, resources, and lack any immediate responsibilities to do it now. So, I asked myself, if not now, when?

My Goals for the Sabbatical

I realize how rare this opportunity is, so I want to be intentional about how I am using this time. Below are the goals that have emerged for me. I am using this list to determine how to spend my time:

·     Heal: grieve what’s been lost, take responsibility for my mistakes, and regain my physical and emotional vitality 

·     Reflect: cultivate greater self-awareness and compassion for myself and others 

·     Explore (my passions and the world): say yes to activities that give me life and are different from what I was doing before in my work -- creatively, physically, spiritually, and intellectually 

·     Re-imagine: who I am and what is possible in my life

·     Discern: where I’m going next

What I’ve Done So Far and My Plan

· Winter: one day this winter my yoga teacher approached me and suggested I sign up for an intensive Level 1 teacher training with Barron Baptiste. Historically, I would have dismissed the idea outright (… the time, cost, impracticality, and I’d never heard of Barron!). However, something in my gut told me to “say yes”; also, as I analyzed it, it fit with so many of my 2019 goals (healing, reflecting, and exploring). The training was only a week away and I didn’t know if I could still sign up. I decided – why not try. So, I called asking to be let in. They said yes. So, I got a ticket and flew to Sedona days later. 

I’m so glad I did! It was the most transformational experience I’ve ever had. Taken together -- the meditation, inquiry, discussion, practice teaching, and asana practice --helped me to see patterns in my life that were invisible to me before. At the core of it, I realized that I have long believed that “I don’t deserve to be loved.” I see now that that story has been silently shaping my life choices, self-talk, and how I have been present with others my entire life. I also now understand why it’s been so hard for me to let this belief go and what it has cost me – including years of self-imposed loneliness, lack of pride at my accomplishments, broken relationships, unnecessary conflict, fear-based decisions, and alienation from people who wanted to support me. Seeing this was very painful at first. However, once I realized its absurdity, and that this doesn’t have to be my story anymore, everything shifted. That is who I was, it is not who I truly am. Who I truly am is caring, joyful, open, and confident. This realization has made me feel more empowered, energized, and joyful than any time I can remember. 

[I also came out of the training certified to teach yoga – so, if anyone wants a private yoga lesson I’d love to teach you :) ].

· Spring and Early Summer: As I brainstormed what projects to pursue next, my old dream of hiking every National Park and National Forest in the US kept coming back to me. The more I thought about it, the more it felt right. While on the road I will develop artistically (photographing and writing), intellectually (history, geology, ecology, biology, and environmental conservation), and physically (hiking, climbing, and camping). Doing it as a multi-month trip (similar to when I walked the Camino with my family) really appealed to me as well. When I move slowly and give ideas space to emerge I see the world in new ways – and that’s exactly what I want right now. Lastly being on the road for so long will change me in unexpected ways as I connect with old friends, meet new people, get lost, discover new paths, face unexpected danger, confront old fears, have time to reflect, and discover new vistas. I did a trail week on the road a few weeks ago, and now have fully committed to it after leaving Minnesota again earlier this week. 

· Late Summer and Fall: I realize that even in the next few months I may see only a portion of our National Parks. So, as the summer goes on I may continue with the project, or I may shift my focus entirely to something different – perhaps volunteering at a nonprofit or a presidential campaign, taking a long trip through Asia, or doing something I haven’t conceived of yet. I want to hold open the space to see what emerges and feels right as I transform.

How to Support Me During This Next Phase

·     If you live in the west: I hope to see you. 

·     If you have traveled in the west: recommendations for hikes, climbs, experiences, and people I should meetalong the way

·     If you consume social media: let me know what you think of my photographs and reflections. If you like what I post, please encourage others to follow my page

·     If you are religious: prayers for safety and discernment 

·     If you call, email, or text me: please be patient if I’m slow to respond

·     For everyone: if you ever went on a similar journey of self-discovery – I’d love to hear your story and how your adventure changed you

Conclusion

Joseph Campbell once wrote: “If you can see your path laid out in front of you step by step, you know it's not your path.” Before January, I imagined I could see the path I was on and its shape all the way to grave. Now that I’ve jumped off to make my own path, I don’t know what lies ahead – but here we go… thank you for walking beside me as I venture into this new, exciting and still unknown world of possibilities.