Two Walls and a Roof (57 page)

We returned to our room
,
and being tired out from the days adventures, we both fell fast asleep, leaving the television set turned on, tuned to CNN.  Around five a
.
m
.
I was awoken in terror to a constant blaring sound screaming at me from the television set. It was a tornado warning being transmitted by some kind of early warning system. JoAnn jumped out of the bed and ran to the window and looked out. She said excitedly
,
“That noise is a tornado warning, and it does feel like a tornado is near
. C
an
’
t you feel it
?
” I could feel nothing, and I could see a repeat of the plane incident was on the way, but at least we were on the ground this time. I threw on my pants and ran outside only to discover that a huge limb had been blown off a tree, landing beside our car
. A
nother foot and our driving days were over. There were bits of trees and debris scattered all over the car park, but I could see no real property damage, so I dismissed all the panic as media exaggeration. I did notice however that the sky looked very peculiar.  It was a strange colour, and the clouds were rolling by really fast. Rain was lashing the area now and again, but to me this was the kind of storm we had seen almost every day since arriving in Phoenix.

The newscaster on CNN was describing the damage done by the ‘five tornados’ that had hit the Flagstaff area during the night. Trains had been derailed, campers overturned, some trailer courts were totally destroyed, and whole streets we
re hit in the Flagstaff suburbs. W
e were in the suburbs, and had slept through it a
ll. I sat on the bed transfixed
as I watched the reports coming in. This was all so new to me, but very common to a woman from Tornado Alley, and she seemed to be hurriedly dressing and gathering our stuff. All the warnings were suggesting that new tornado cells were forming in our area, and would be slowly
moving north of Flagstaff. T
his was exactly where we were heading on our way to the Grand Canyon
.  Months earlier
I had figured out a short cut from Flagstaff to the Grand Canyon, and from the weatherman I could see that the cells seemed to be forming along the road right on our path.

Then the argument started. I was all for heading off there and then, before anything worse happened, and to hell with the warnings. I didn’t want a repeat of Monument Valley where we ran out of time
. B
esides that, we were booked into the Bright Angel Lodge that night. JoAnn was dead against it, telling me that she could ‘feel’ the tornado in the air
. N
ot me though. The television reporters were di
shing out warning after warning
for our area, and then we compromised. I agreed to get a disk for the camera, and that would take less than an hour, and surely all would be ok by then. We headed for
Wal-Mart
. Though she denies this, I believe that JoAnn delibera
tely got us lost, despite my GPS
directions
. A
fter almost two hours of shopping, we were again heading north, this time with me doing the driving, and of course we didn’t bother listening to the radio for weather updates.

The sky got darker and darker. We were also climbing rapidly into the mountains, and I could see the temperature falling wi
th each mile we drove. Suddenly
a huge flash of lightning struck the trees on our left only a short distance into the forest. Then it really began to storm. More lightning began flashing and striking all around us, and it seemed to be
getting closer, so much so that
poor JoAnn became co
ncerned that we might be struck
and completely annihilated. I assured her in my best ‘science voice’ that we were in a ‘F
araday Cage’ and perfectly safe
from lightning, but I secretly wondered about falling trees.

The number of cars approaching us soon dwindled down to a trickle
,
and finally stopped all together.  The only cars then on the road were ourselves and a big four by four jeep travelling just behind us, with possibly a family inside it.  Like us, I believe they were on the way to the Canyon also, and the driver was now tailgating me, much to my annoyance and growing concern.

Almost too suddenly
it became as dark as night. I had the lights on full when the sheets of rain turned to sleet, then to hail, and then to snow, all within minutes. By then we were driving through a big forest, and we started to notice that trees had just been torn up from the ground, and there were freshly mangled limbs strewn all over the roadside.

In shock and a
mazement
I braked hard and had my first skid, as the road had become both a skating rink and an obstacle course. At that point even I became scared, and began looking for someplace to pull off the road before we slid off, possibly into a deep ravine. It was almost impossible to see anything though, and I was afraid my ta
ilgater would run right into me
if I slammed on the brakes again. Our situation was fast becoming very serious. I think the jeep driver must have somehow believed that if a tiny car like ours could drive in this weather, surely so could his jeep. Through the b
lizzard I spotted a kind of lay-
by up ahead, just as another huge fork of lightning struck close
by. Our car veered into the lay-
by, and we slid to a halt in among the trees. I was very relieved. The jeep sped on past us, and my tornado woman announced, “That’s a very stupid thing to do
. He has no clue at all. W
e may well find him up the road in the ditch
,
” prophetic words indeed.

The storm moved on to the north, and after about ten minutes we headed off again. As we rounded the first bend, and literally a hundred yards f
rom where we had stopped, we saw
the first of the many big trees almost blocking the road. I swerved to avoid a smash
,
and in panic slowed to a crawl on the ice and the snow. The destruction in the forest was like nothing I had ever seen in my life. Just feet in from the road, and spread along the roadside, were huge trees
, twisted and broken like match
sticks. It w
as a kind of random destruction. A
clump of trees here and there were totally destroyed, then a foot or two away, there was no sign of damage. Without realizing it, I had been driving us inside, or very close to the edge of one of the worst tornados ever seen in the area. I saw our exact tornado later on
You Tube
, and became mesmerized at how near we had been, through my ignorance, to tragedy. Only minutes had separated us from who knows what.  JoAnn still says it was the act of a mad
man, so at least I was keeping that tradition alive.

About half a mile down the road we saw the
jeep. It was turned upside down
and lying on its roof ins
ide in a field. As we passed by
we could see no one in it, but all their belongings were strewn all over the road and a police car was just arriving at the spot. JoAnn had been right after all, and I felt so thankful for our safety. My dream trip had almost cost us our lives. If we had not pulled over, we would have been that family in the jeep, and I still wonder what became of them.

Having survived our ordeal, once again I felt sure that we were being protected by a power beyond us. With that comfort in mind, I drove on in bright sunshine to the Grand Canyon. One of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World was awaiting our arrival.

It took some considerable time to reach the Grand Canyon Village and the South Rim Visitors Centre. We spent time inside and got to know the ideal way to see this wonder of nature. The whole viewing experience is top class and designed for the visitor to see this awe inspiring place at its best. The thing I liked most was the free bus transport to every possible viewing point. You parked your car and took the shuttles everywhere after that.

I will never forget us walking through the little trees and shrubs as we headed for the rim, full of expectation, but nothing can prepare you for that first sight. When at last we came through to the rim
,
I froze in awe. It was the most breathtaking sight I know I will ever see for the rest of my life. We stood and stared in amazement and silence. Both of us became overwhelmed by the grandeur and spectacle, and I said
,
“
N
o matter who we tell about this, or what photos we take, nothing will ever be able to do it justice”
.
JoAnn agreed. It would be a total nonsense for me to try and describe what we were looking at. It has to be personall
y seen
to be experienced fully, and that is the truth. I think my mind simply could not take in the sheer size of the valley laid out before us. This canyon had a myriad of rock formations constantly changing colour before one
’
s eyes. Everyone around us seemed to be feeling the same awe. We stood transfixed, looking down for a mile into the brown Colorado River. Then as if to welcome us again, a most beautiful rainbow formed right befor
e our very eyes. People pointed
and clicked a thousand cameras
. T
o add to the magic of that moment, an eag
le with huge wings outstretched
glided gracefully into the canyon, bringing gasps of excitement from all those who saw it.

The Bright Angel Lodge is located further along the rim
,
and we finally checked in and got our
chalet. It was wonderful;
a log cabin situated on the rim of the Grandest Canyon in the world.
It is beautifully decorated, s
partan and old
,
but just wonderful all the same. We were in Heaven and
we were so happy. We returned to the Bright Angel and had a most wonderful meal
. We also
bought books
, souvenirs and a DVD called
T
he National Parks, America
’s best kept secret
by Ken Burns
,
my favourite director.
I had been looking for that DVD for
ever, and just knew it would be there. The evening was closing in and everyone wanted to see the sunset change the canyon into a million different colours, including us
,
and we were not disappointed. We travelled along the rim until we could see no more
,
and then arrived back to the little train station which took people to and from the town of Williams. I had wanted to travel on that train to the Canyon
,
but changed my mind later as we had the hired car
. A
nother time perhaps. Thousands and thousands of people from every nation on Earth were visiting that beautiful place, and many of them were travelling in style on that train. Thousands more came by bus and by car
,
and even by helicopter. JoAnn walked and walked
,
and here we got the first sign that her foot may finally be getting better. We loved the place. Our senses went into overdrive at each new viewing point, and after the day closed and we lay in bed chatting, we came to the conclusion that the only thing left was to see the dawn come up over the rim in the morning. It had been one of the most exciting and exhilarating days of my life
,
and sleep overpowered us. I clearly remember thinking just before I succumbed to the blackness that, ‘we are sleeping
on the rim of the Grand Canyon.
I hope I don’t sleep walk tonight’. Then darkness fell both physically and mentally
.
I cuddled up to my wife and told her I loved her, but she was already in dreamland.

JoAnn dragged me reluctantly from the bed before five a
.
m
.
because we had planned a complete series of viewings, chasing the sun as it travelled across the Canyon. With coffee in hand we made off into the stinging cold Arizona air and saw the dawn break. Hours went by
,
and at each new spot I thought I had seen the best I could see, but it was as if the place was taunting me with its beauty, challenging me to mentally judge the infinitely beautiful, a task I finally gave up on. By day
’
s end we had both concluded that our minds were numbed with the sheer beauty of it all. My favourite viewing place was Powell Point
. T
here
I ventured so close to the edge
that JoAnn could not ho
ld our camera steady
because she was so scared that I might fall over the edge. As if to taunt her, I sat on the edge and dangled my legs over the rim
. Then later on
I stood on the edge and winged my hands out like a human bird.

I could see for hundreds of miles
,
but I wished we were way down below, drifting along on the Colorado River in a canoe in the sunshine. JoAnn finally became enraged with my antics and threatened all kinds of punishment if I didn’t come back from the rim, and in the end I did. But the memory of that sheer
drop is burned into my mind for
ever more. I doubt if we will ever see a more beautiful place on this Earth, but for all its beauty, I did not feel called to it spiritually like had happened to me in Monument Valley. There was no
sense of sadness either
as we left and headed for the town of Williams, our next stop.

The town of Williams is located right on old Route 66. It was the staging p
oint for the Canyon for all those tourists e
n route to California on that famous road. My purpose in going there was to authenticate the drawing I had
made
years earlier
in my dream journal
by having us stand on the train station platform, and have our
picture taken in front of a choo choo
train.

By the time we arrived into Williams, evening was f
ast approaching
and the sky had once more become a multicoloured spectacle, changing minute by minute. We rushed to the station and had our photo taken in the last rays of the sun. JoAnn snapped my picture as I pointed up to the Williams sign
,
and I felt wonderful. This photo was just another proof that the journal had worked. Night fell and we drove around the town just like the tourists had done in the fifties and sixties
. A
ll that was missing was our red Corvette. The people of Williams are very proud of their 66 heritage, and virtually every shop had some connection to the famous road. The neon signs and artwork adorned the shops and cafes, and it was so easy to feel that we had gone back in time. That night we slept once more in a Route 66 motel, this t
ime
without the groupies or the pool tables.

The next day we headed back for Flagstaff
,
and by then we were truly on the return leg of our trip, but there was still one more wonder to see.

When I was mapping our trip months earlier, I felt that the icing on t
he cake
for me
would be a visit to
the
Meteor Crater. It would be a huge bonus if we could manage it, and
on the second last day
we felt that we
still
had time for one more visit before we returned our car. We drove east
,
heading for Winona and Wilmslow, both towns made famous by songs of Route 66, and the Eagles
’
song about standing on the corner. Pretty soon JoAnn turned off the highway, and we crossed the desolation to Meteor Crater in beautiful sunshine. It was our last day in Arizona and the only one that we didn’t have a thunderstorm. Meteor Crater was formed when a small meteorite hit this remote area fifty
thousand years ago, and it
obliterated the whole place. The Crater is an ama
zing sight. I loved being there
because when I was a young boy in Buttevant
,
I had read all about it in Uncle Michael
’
s little encyclopaedia, and wondered if I might ever see it one day
. T
oday was that day. It’s a great facility and well worth a visit. They have a museum there, and while JoAnn studied inside, I got to walk on the outside with a guided tour and take many amazing pictures. It truly was the icing on the cake for me on the trip. Now all that was left was for us to be sure to wake in t
ime for our early morning train
and begin the journey back to Missouri, but the day was young yet and Flagstaff nightlife was calling me.

We dropped off our hired car at the local airport and got a taxi back to our original motel, famous for Navaho groupies, and the new ball game known as ‘Irish pool’
. T
hen we headed out on the Flagstaff town.  At the bus stop we were joined by two ‘down and outs’ who helped me figure out the local bus timetable. Quite early on they told me of the amazin
g news that a dollar bus ticket
got you almost anywhere in Flagstaff. It was no wonder I loved the place.  During our chat, the more talkative one was amazed that I was a genuine Irishman, and he proudly informed me that he too had Irish blood in him, due to his red hair and red beard, but I saw no red in either of them.  As if to banish my obvious scepticism, he told us that his people had all come over from ‘Liverpool in Ireland’ many years earlier, and settled in Arizona. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that Liverpool was in England, and so we chatted away until the bus finally arrived. Sure enough one dollar did get you right into the centre of town, and as we were parting,
‘Red
beard
’
gave me
this parting advice
, “I hope ye have a wild night in the pubs
. Y
ou know what us Irish are like with the drink
,
” and with a wave of his hand, he and his silent f
riend disappeared down an alley
way.

We did end up in an Irish bar that night, but the only wild thing that happened was my shock at the size of our bill for the food. Next morning at five a
.
m
.
a taxi took us to Flagstaff train station, and by five forty we were on board the South West Chief, saying good bye to Arizona. I was too tired to be s
ad, and by some mix up our pre-
booked sleeper car had been given out to someone else. We sat in the dark while our room was being cleaned, and saw the sun come up over the western desert for one last time.  JoAnn just loved it all
,
as did I. Eventually our room was ready, complete with refreshments and privacy. Included in the deal were all of our meals, which turned out to be amazing.  We were crossing America on a journey that would take over twenty three
hours,
travel
ling
thousands of miles
and
stopping only once in Albuquerque
,
New Mexico. We met some wonderful people at meal times and became mini celebrities. Everyone seemed to be curious about ‘our story’ and how we had met. Some came right out and asked, and some hinted around it, but all were even more curious about Ireland. I’m happy to say that I did my bit for our Irish tourist industry, and I welcomed everyone to Ireland
,
as did JoAnn.

During the evening meal,
a discussion began at our table
about the power of the media and how it can influence our lives. This became so vociferous that soon we were righting all the wrongs of the world, and saving the oil for future generations to come. It did not take long for those at the tables nearby to join in, and before long almost half of the dining car
was in high spirits. Even the c
oncierge, a huge African American
, had become infected, and he became quite friendly. This was in contrast to his earlier five a
.
m
.
m
anner when he commanded us all
to
, “S
it down together and shut up complaining
”
, breakfast would ar
rive when he was good and ready
. I told
those others at our table then
that my aim was to wear him down with kindness before the journey ended, and by eight p
.
m
. that evening
he was a changed man. It’s possible that my little
financial token of appreciation
given to him at the Albuquerque stopover may have helped, but that night those
at our table all had prime rib and his personal service
with a broad smile, while the le
ss fortunate may have been told
their st
eaks were all gone
.  Big Kyrl’s man
tra of ‘the end always justifies the means’
was proven correct once again. Later on in the evening, as the staff were encouraging the listening people of our dining car to leave, the man in command went to great pains t
o assure our group
that there was ‘no rush’, and ‘did we need any more of anything
?
’
K
indness had won out in the end.