DAY 7: COLORADO NATIONAL MONUMENT TO ESTES PARK, CO (Sunday, August 9)

Of the campers departing that day, I think the only people we beat out of there was the boy scout troup, which isn’t saying much.  I've already mentioned this, but it takes at least an hour to get everything packed up and ready to go in the morning; sometimes longer if SB is being especially uncooperative.

Morning oatmeal, still being cooperative.

On the way back down.  This is a terrible picture, but the best I could grab with the sun where it was. This is "balanced rock." 

We stopped down in Fruita for some gas, and to take a picture of SB in front of the Starvin’ Arvin restaurant.  Her preschool teacher always called her Starvin’ Marvin because she was ALWAYS hungry, so we had to send her a picture.  

We stopped for coffee at this tiny little drive-thru coffee shop and it was only marginally better than the gas station.  Judging by how much of their interior space was being taken by flavored syrups, I don’t think people came there for good black coffee.  

The original plan was to drive to Boulder, shop for an hour or two, and then head north into Estes Park for the night.  The whole trip was supposed to take about four hours from Fruita.  But every time I would check the route, it got longer and longer.  Even though it was Sunday, there were some serious traffic problems on I-70, and by the time we got to Vail, it was telling us it was still another four hours until Boulder.  One of the issues along the way was the closure of the Eisenhower Tunnel.  We still do not know why, but assume there was some kind of accident.  We made a game-time decision to head north off the interstate at Silverthorne, skipping Boulder for the day (we wouldn’t have made it before store close anyway), and drive through Rocky Mountain National Park from the west side into Estes Park.  This reworked our entire plan, and we canceled a few other reservations since we were going to hit Rocky Mountain today instead of the following day, and decided we only needed to stay in Estes Park one night.  

Everything was going swimmingly until we encountered a long stretch of unpaved road under construction.  It was as rutted and nasty as you can imagine, and seemed to go on forever.  We were unfortunately the lead car, and although we maintained the posted construction speed limit (barely … you have no idea how much it felt like off-roading), with the additional traffic detouring like we were, we accumulated quite the conga line behind us.  We finally caught up to pavement again in Kremmling, CO and turned east toward the park.  

I have already discussed how much I am nervous about heights, and how much the altitude has been bothering me, so the idea of crazy mountain roads, including, you know, driving on the highest continuously paved road in the United States, which tops out at 12,183 feet, was making me…uneasy (literally?).  But we had no choice.  I made Matt swear to me that the next vacation that we took had nothing to do with mountains whatsoever.  

I buried my head in my book to distract me from everything that was happening outside.  I’m sure it was beautiful, but it’s just not for me.  We did stop at the Continental Divide at Milner Pass, which also gets the claim of being over two miles above sea level, at 10,759 feet, to take a picture.

Then the ascent continued.  We got to the Alpine Visitor’s Center (elevation: 11,796 feet) and Matt made some lame joke about me working up there, to which I replied I’d rather have a job killing bugs for a living.  A little beyond that we finally hit the highest point on the road, at the aforementioned 12,183 feet.  

Can you see the double rainbows?  It was pretty cool, I have to admit.

That little tiny line is the very normal-sized road on these giant mountains.

We stopped a little beyond there at the Forest Canyon overlook (elevation: somewhere around 11,700 feet) to take some pictures, because although I was mildly terrified and felt like vomiting, we might as well get a picture.

Way up in the glacial zone, it was obviously quite cold.  SB was beside herself with excitement about seeing the snow on the mountains.  She COULD NOT STOP announcing to anyone within 100 feet of us how it “smelled like Minnesota” and how there was “snow like Minnesota” — to her San Diego mind, any and all precipitation and/or weather pattern other than sunshine was Minnesota, and Minnesota alone.  

She was literally skipping and jumping her way down the path, and we kept trying to get her to slow down.  “MY HEART IS BEATING SO FAST!” she announced excitedly and I was all, “YES, I KNOW, STOP RUNNING WE ARE UP SO HIGH I DON’T WANT TO DIE.”  

It turns out all we had to do was show her snow to get her excited about a national park.  With how poorly our first two stops had gone, we didn’t think this was going to be a hit for her at all, and basically were stopping solely for Matt’s sake, as he LOVES the mountains.  But there she was, bursting at the seams about the entire thing.  

Similar to my comfort during airplane descents versus my terror at take-off, I was a happier clam on our way down into Estes Park (which still sits between 7,500 and 7,800 feet).  We ate at a little pizza place, and then headed to our camp site at Mary’s Lake.

All over the campground are signs for BEARS.  According to Matt, you can judge the type of wildlife in the area by the type of dumpster at a campground, and you could have added some wheels to this one and sent it out onto the battlefield.  GREAT.  WONDERFUL.  I FEEL SO SAFE.

Despite all of this warning about bears, they provided absolutely NO bear lock-ups.  I know if you’re tent camping the rule is usually to just leave everything locked in your trunk, but our tent and our food and our trunk were all the same things.  

First we were just going to leave all the windows closed, and the food (which we have stored in coolers and medium-sized rubbermaid totes) not up against the windows.  Then Matt made some comment about “anything that smells exotic” so I started to have a thing about the fact that, you know, we have an entire bag of shampoos and soaps and hair product that “smell exotic.”  “I thought it was just food!” I said to him.  

I started to really be not okay with the whole thing, especially with his mixed messages.  One sentence was “it will be fine” followed by a sentence about him being “concerned about the canvas [top].”  What was I to believe?  I couldn’t get images of some black bear shredding the top of the car (and my kid) in an attempt to get at some stupid food or cheap shampoo.  I started stuffing things in double plastic bags, and had a bit of horror when I remembered that not only did we have fresh pizza leftovers in the car, but a half-full bag of stinky dog food.  Why did this stupid campground not have any place to lock stuff up?

After a few more minutes of me hissing angrily at him (SB was already put to bed up top) we decided to take her (and all of the duffel bags we had stored up there with her) down from the pop-top, which was essentially a tent, and close the top so that the car and the food (and us) were all sealed up.  

Of course the dog refused to sleep on his pillow on the front seat and stood huffing and panting at us until finally passing out by my legs.  So all four of us slept on the bottom again, boxed in by all of our stuff.  

It got pretty cold that night (in the 40s) which made it a bit more comfortable to be all squished together, but I was still up at every sound I heard.  Matt turned over and whacked his elbow on the side of the car and I thought my heart was going to jump out of my chest because, you know, BEARS. 

Spoiler alert: We survived.  

DAY 6: ZION TO COLORADO NATIONAL MONUMENT (Saturday, August 8)

We got off to another predictably slow start, barely making it out of the RV park by 9:00.  Although all three of us managed to shower before we left, and I learned that in seven minutes (the length of the timer on the shower) I can shampoo and wash my kid, myself, and shave exactly ONE leg.  

We stopped for coffee in La Verkin, UT at a place called River Rock Roasting Company for some of the best coffee I’ve had since leaving San Diego and my beloved Bird Rock Coffee.  Their bagel sandwiches were also kick-ass (I mean, with Sriracha mayo, I’m not sure anything could taste bad), and I left about $40 poorer after two drinks, two sandwiches, a souvenir camp mug and a pound of coffee to get us through the next several camp mornings.  All 1000% worth it.

On the 15 in Utah.  We'll just take the right lane.  

There was another entrance to Zion right off the 15, to a section called the Kolob Canyons.  Because we were driving right by there we planned to stop and it was worth it 10x over, and more reason to love Zion.  We could drive all the way in, and stopped at the very top for some photos.

The lens isn't dirty -- there was a smoky haze in the canyons.  

At the top!

I was hoping for a Target somewhere between La Verkin and the Colorado border, but had to settle with a WalMart Supercenter in Richfield, UT.  Matt went to get gas while SB and I went inside to do some shopping for food and random toiletries.  The second we walked in, it was obvious that we stuck out like the sorest of sore thumbs.  Everyone’s head was on a swivel.  I interrupted several neighbor reunions that only happen in small towns at WalMart’s cold in their tracks in my attempts to shop.  

On top of being obvious because we were the only people in the store that no one else knew personally, we physically looked different than every other person in the store.  I don’t know how to describe it, but rural towns tend to produce people who have a certain physical look (and I’m not just speaking about weight, because it’s not just that), and we were just very obviously out of place.  BUT I was able to ignore all awkwardness because they had bags of Guittard and Ghirardelli baking chips in more varieties than I have ever seen for only $2.88 a bag.  TWO EIGHTY-EIGHT!!!  That’s cheaper than the crappy Market Pantry chocolate chips I usually pity purchase for myself.  I bought four, including my absolute favorite, the Ghirardelli white chocolate.  AND they had the Baked Tostitos chips.  Everyone knows I have an obsession with Baked Lays (all flavors) and used to also buy the Baked Tostitos, but lately have not been able to find the damn Baked Tostitos anywhere.  Apparently I was just living in too large of a city, because they were here, and if you’re wondering, I only bought one bag of those, because I also had to buy plain and barbecue flavored Baked Lays.

After all of our stupid snacks, I also bought a bunch of vegetables to grill for dinner that night, fruit and two bags of ice for less than $40.  I cannot condone shopping at WalMart for any reason but I do concede that they have cheap chocolate and chips.  

We made it into Colorado and both lamented the loss of the Utah scenery.

Had to take a picture of this, too, as it's my maiden name.

Our original plan before our Flagstaff delay was to stay at a hotel in Fruita.  Once we were delayed, we decided (“we”) to cancel that reservation and stay at a campsite at Colorado National Monument, which is just outside Fruita.  At the time (sitting at the Goodyear shop in Flagstaff) it seemed like an agreeable decision, as we would recoup some of the money we had to spend on a hotel in Flagstaff, and it looked like a pretty site.  

Except when we got there, I realized that it was really high up.  The higher elevations had not been sitting well with me, making me feel pretty disgusting.  The thought of camping at 6,000 feet again was downright depressing and I may have started to get a tiny bit upset about it.  In addition to the mountain sickness, I have a very real fear of heights.  To get up to the campsite, we had to drive four miles of severe switchbacks with absolutely no guard rails.  It was not getting any better.

The campsite was pretty, and was perched way up high, giving a “beautiful, unobstructed” view of the valley below (read: a nauseating sheer drop off the side of a mountain).  We got to our assigned site, and I decided to just suck it up and continue to sip water and try not to vomit.  We threw Ralph’s blanket down on the ground to give him a cleaner place to sleep, and not two minutes after we had put the blanket down it was swarming with ants.

OF COURSE I took a photo of it.

Ants are on my Top-5 list of Bugs I Cannot.  This particular campsite was teeming with them.  Matt agreed that it was pretty disgusting and I announced that we could stay here, but I would not be exiting the van under any circumstances, and they better not get inside the van, either.  

He took SB down to the bathroom while I went for a walk around looking at the other sites.  I found another empty one around the corner that did not seem to share the same ant problem as the first one.  The camp host wasn’t at his site, so we called down to the ranger station and they said it shouldn’t be a problem to switch sites, and just let the host know when he returned.  So we switched to the low-ant site and it was a good decision.

Yeah that's the valley down there in the distance that we drove up from.

We made grilled vegetables and rolled them up in the last of our Pancho’s tortillas (SNIFF.  TEAR.)  Then SB had a spectacular melt down, and I was sure some neighboring camp site was going to call the Colorado CPS.  

I was in the bathroom after we had put her to bed and a woman and her adult daughter were in there as well in matching muu-muus.  They were recounting facts from that evening’s 7:30 ranger presentation up the road, and we had the requisite “brushing your teeth in front of strangers is weird” conversation.  Then something enormous landed on my face and I jumped and whacked the older woman in the arm and immediately apologized and pointed out the half-moth, half-bird creature that had landed on me (that thankfully was still in the bathroom to serve as my defense for acting psychotic) but she wasn’t as understanding as I thought she was going to be about it, which goes against everything I have ever thought about people who wear muu-muus.

I wanted to tell Matt this story, but this is what I came back to:

There were only three creepy bugs that Matt had to kill in the van before we officially went to bed.  When we entered the park earlier that night, the ranger at the fee booth told us there was going to be a meteor shower that evening, but staying up that late and/or wandering around outside in the pitch black wasn’t appealing.  I’m sure it was cool looking to whoever stayed up for it. 

DAY 5: ZION NATIONAL PARK (Friday, August 7)

When we woke up the next morning (perhaps “groaned our way out of bed” is more accurate) it was still raining.  We made SB some oatmeal, fished clothing out of our tarp set up, and stuck the BOB in the van for our trip into the park.  

Dogs are not allowed in Zion National Park (OK, so they are technically allowed on paved trails, but they are not allowed on the park buses, and the park buses are the only way to get to any of the trails, so really they’re not allowed).  We had a reservation at the Doggy Dude Ranch for him and dropped him off and headed into Springdale, which is the town right outside Zion.

After a stop at a really delicious local coffee shop (I could drive around the country for the sole purpose of touring local coffee shops) we went to find a parking spot for the van.  There are buses that run from Springdale into the park, so we parked near the next bus stop and waited.  All of the buses are supposed to be handicap accessible, but that’s kind of a joke.  The stroller had to be folded up (if you own a BOB, you know that transporting it while collapsed is difficult and awkward) and there was barely enough space in the aisle for Matt to keep it next to him.  

We felt like morons when it turned out that the park was the next bus stop — we could have easily parked a little closer or just walked.  Oh well.  It was still raining steadily.  Before we left San Diego, I bought SB a fancy rain coat at REI in case it rained (who can resist anything on sale at REI?  I cannot.  It’s not humanly possible.)  So she had that on.  Matt had his rain coat on and I had… a cheap plastic poncho.  I was predictably irritated about my rain wear, but really had no choice (and did not feel like going into a store and dropping $100 on a new rain coat).  

The town shuttle drops you off at the Visitor Center, where we stopped for a protracted bathroom break and where she and I argued back and forth and I walked out (twenty minutes later) feeling like I’d rather walk off a cliff.  

We walked over to the bus loading area to get on one of the park buses.  These also say handicap accessible but that’s also a huge big fat joke.  They are absolutely crammed with people (and today was wet people, no less), there were huge steps to get up on the buses (they did not lower to curb height), and while there were ramps they could have probably deployed, the constant reminding about how buses come every 5 minutes “so do not run, there will be another one,” and how “we must stay on time,” that was the last thing anyone would have wanted to ask for.  So Matt had to maneuver the stupid collapsed BOB into the cramped bus while I wrangled her in and out.  You weren’t even allowed to have the stroller in the aisle, so he had it up on the seat next to him.  At one point on our bus adventures he sat up front in the “handicap seats” (you know, the ones that face the middle of the bus) and someone woman was making snarky comments about how much room he was taking up with the stroller.  OVER IT.

We planned on two hikes.  We took the bus three-fourths of the way up the canyon, and got out to hike Weeping Rock first.  The shuttle stop itself was breathtaking.  

The trail was short and steep, just as advertised, and took you up to a gorgeous cut out in the rocks.  I think if it wasn’t raining the weeping of the rocks would have been more obvious, but it was still fun to see.  I was kicking myself that we didn’t do a better job of preparing for the rain (bringing extra sets of dry clothes for afterward, something extra to cover the stroller with, etc), but we were clearly still light years ahead of 75% of the people we saw out hiking, many in flip flops and beach towels wrapped around their necks.

She managed to walk herself back down (with me crushing one hand in a Vulcan death grip) which made Matt’s descent with the stroller on the wet ground much easier.  

Even with her fancy new rain coat, SB was not a fan of the rain (or the park really for that matter).  Our California kid has only been out in the rain once or twice in her life (that she is able to remember) and one of those times was a freak thunderstorm when we were running by the beach that required us to sprint to safety.  I lost count of the amount of times today I had to tell her that the rain wasn’t going to hurt her, and that it was okay that we were outside and would you please just SHUT UP ABOUT THE RAIN.

We got back on the shuttle bus to head back down canyon toward our second planned hike.  Zion is like nothing I have ever seen.  It is beautiful and mesmerizing and amazing.  I would love to come back again when she is older, or without her, to truly take advantage of more of the hikes and to see more things.  

Our second hike was to the Lower Emerald Pools.  It was still raining and getting muddier on the trails.  We made it to the end, saw the pools and walked under the waterfall, and then she fell apart.  

Still excited about it. 

I was on this trip, too!

There are probably some 5 year olds who find National Parks fun and exciting, but ours is not one of them.  Or maybe she would have been if we wouldn’t have taken her to Disney a week earlier.  She walked half of the way back and then got in the stroller for the remainder.  

These pictures just do not do it justice.

The first four attempts at this picture she was scowling.

Thumbs up!  We're almost back to the bus!

I felt bad that she was so miserable.  We tried to keep the stroller seat as dry as we could, but she was wet if walking or wet if sitting.  Another awkward bus ride, and we were back at the Visitor Center.  We bought a bunch of things (I always feel like I’m on Supermarket Sweep when I’m in those gift shops, because it’s usually when we’re stopping quickly or trying to get out, and I’m supposed to get through them as quickly as possible, throwing things into my basket) and then ONE FINAL AWKWARD BUS RIDE back to the car.  If it wouldn’t have been raining we could have easily skipped the last bus ride and just walked, but we were all done being wet.

This is just in Springdale.  Not even in the park.  And it's gorgeous.

We stopped for Linnner?  Dunch?  It was 3:45 and we were all starving from not having eaten during the day at all.  One of the highest rated restaurants on Yelp (don’t laugh; while I don’t review things on the site myself, I do find them mostly reliable, given you actually read some of reviews, for finding places when in a new spot) wasn’t all THAT great, but hot food was welcome.  We ordered SB a cinnamon and sugar crepe.  The first bite was “delicious,” and then the third bite “made her gag,” a point she was so committed to she actually sat there with half-eaten pieces falling out of her mouth.  So she ate absolutely none of it.  CHILDREN ARE SO IRRITATING.  

Back at the camp site I did some laundry, we made some quesadillas, and called it a night.  AND THEN.  We had been watching the radar intently because there was another chance for rain.  We thought we had made it in the clear and all of a sudden a big fat thunderstorm popped up southwest of us.  Although I’d like to think in my past life I was a meteorologist, it was hard to tell if it was going to make it to us or stay south.  She was already sleeping on the top, and so we waited it out.  Then we saw lightning and heard some thunder and pulled her down again.  Of course that cell stayed south of us and it barely sprinkled.  Then we saw another one pop up.  We saw lightning again but it stayed on the north side of us.  So basically we could have left her up top without major incident … although if we would have, it would have most certainly poured.  Either way she seemed to sleep a lot better between us this time around, although Ralph was still BESIDE HIMSELF and spent several hours sitting up staring at us and panting.  

DAY 4: GRAND CANYON NP TO ZION NP (Thursday, August 6)

(FINALLY have Wifi again!  Woohoo!)

SB was up at literally the crack of dawn.  I think the sun rose a bit before 5:30, and we had already been up and to the bathroom and back to the van by 5:35.  

While getting out the setup to make pancakes, we realized we didn’t bring a whisk or any butter.  Whisk problem easily solved with a plastic fork; butter problem ignored “because the griddle is non-stick.”  

“I don’t remember greasing it last time,” I insisted.  “We just have to make sure it’s hot enough.”

The first four pancakes cemented themselves to the pan, requiring several minutes of scraping and picking and a trip to the dish washing station at the camp site.  

For round two we greased the pan with olive oil and it went better, but it didn’t stop me from throwing the remaining pancake mix into the trash can (I’m not THAT wasteful — there wasn’t a ton left, and I was over it.)

Packing everything back up takes about an hour, so we got ourselves all put back together and left for our next stop, the Zion River Resort (RV Park and Campground) in Virgin, UT.  

The drive around the Grand Canyon is long.  There is obviously nothing that goes directly across so you have to drive almost to the eastern edge and then curve back around.  You end up almost directly across from where you started, three hours later.  The drive was pretty but very isolated.  There is so much empty, expansive land in northwestern Arizona (mostly owned by the government?).  

As we got closer to Utah, the rocks and mountains got more and more beautiful.  Everything out here has these beautiful layers, and it’s amazing to think about how long they’ve all been here, and what it took to form them.  The layers are often diagonal — the force that pushed them upward is unfathomable.  

Utah!

From the Utah border it wasn’t too much farther until we got to our campsite, but first we had to stop in St. George to wash Ralph.  We found a coin-op car wash/dog wash combo.  It was insanely expensive, but totally worth it because he was disgusting.  

During.

After.

The Zion River Resort was pretty much as advertised, and I was happy to be there for $75 for two nights.  It had all the hookups, washer/dryer facilities, showers, a pool (that we never used) and lots of your typical obnoxious RV owners.  

Unless you’re in the market to purchase one and have been hanging out at a lot of RV dealerships, you really have no idea how unbelievable MASSIVE some RVs are.  They’re like rolling McMansions.  There was one especially massive one with a covered car parked in front of it, although he made sure to leave the back end of the car uncovered so you knew it was a Corvette.  

We saw one other VW there, and it was the full camper version of ours.  Otherwise we were the dwarf among giants.  

We started unpacking, and had planned on a relaxing afternoon just hanging out at the camp site and in the van, playing games and drinking a beer or four.  I have really enjoyed the van so far, except for how long it takes and the level of effort involved in unpacking and repacking it.  When you fold down the backseat to make the lower bed, it basically takes up the entire interior of the car, which means everything that was previously stored inside needs to find a new home.  It’s a lot of puzzle work back and forth.  I wish there was somehow extra storage space so we didn’t have to completely repack everything every morning and night.  I think shorter weekend trips would be a lot easier (“Maybe that’s why they call it the ‘weekender’” - Matt), and it’s just harder on this enormous trip because we have so many extra things with us (saxophones, all of Matt’s uniforms, a file box full of important documents, etc).  

There was a forecast for rain, so we stopped at Home Depot on our way in and bought a tarp.  The plan was to put the rear boxes under the picnic table and then use our car top bag (purchased back when we originally drove out to CA from MN) , which was water proof, for all of the duffel bags of clothing on top of the picnic table, then wrap with the tarp.  At our last stop we put the duffel bags in the pop-top with her while she slept, but if it rained, the top would need to come down and having them elsewhere already was going to be much easier.

Before she transformed into a turd.

She was being a gigantic turd so we had to abort our plans to join the free campfire and s’mores up by the main building that evening.  We put her to bed and eyed the radar.  We were really hoping that it wouldn’t rain.  Then all of a sudden the wind picked up in a really, really startling way and we thought it was go time.  When I say picked up, it went from gentle rustling to 20-30 mile gusts.  I thought for sure a storm was hot on its heels so we woke her up and pulled her down from the top (to clarify, the reason we can’t have the top open is that the sides are canvas, and not exactly water-proof.  If we got them wet, they’d have to dry out completely before we could close it and drive to prevent any mold issues).  Then for the next three hours we all lay more or less awake together on the bed on the bottom, sweating.  It was still pretty warm, and while the wind continued, we couldn’t have the windows open too far with all of the rain.  It turns out Ralph gets really nervous in storms (there weren’t ever any in San Diego, so we had no idea) so he had to lay with us, too.  And while it did rain, there was never the big storm that that wind had led us to believe it would be.  

Despite being in a deep sleep right before we woke her, SB never really went back to sleep the entire night.  Between her, the heat, and the incessant panting from the nervous dog, it wasn’t our best night.  I was jealous again of all the fat cats in their big RVs who didn’t need to have a rain plan.  But at least we bought the tarp.  

DAY 3: FLAGSTAFF TO GRAND CANYON NP (Wednesday, August 5)

At literally four seconds past the hour, we were calling every open tire place in the city.  We finally found a shop that had the size we needed (with the appropriate load rating), but the tires were of a relatively unknown brand.  There is someone else in one of our online VW Eurovan groups who put these specific tires on his van and has been happy with them, but it was hard to find any information on them otherwise.  

Although they wouldn't be our top choice for tires, they were pretty inexpensive, and he could install them that day.  If I waited for the more expensive tires to be ordered, the amount of money I would spend on a hotel room would far exceed what I would spend on the purchase and installation of the cheaper tires, not to mention all the fees we would continue to incur to change all of our future reservations if we had to keep bumping our trip dates around.  So we decided to just have them put on, knowing that we will buy another set of tires in the coming months (I KNOW, RIGHT??).  All of our recent repair issues and expenditures were not necessarily out of the ordinary -- we got such a steal on the car, we were ready and willing to invest some money into it -- it's more the timing of it all, and how much more difficult it is to repair when you're in the middle of a trip versus at home.  

So we went for it and had them installed.  

The kids waiting patiently.

Up on the lift!

These are what they took off.  Tires are not supposed to look like this whatsoever. 

These should be flat, and not bulging.  Oy vey!  

An hour or so later, we were in the clear and on our way!  And holy cow what a difference the tires made.  The car can actually ride relatively quietly!

Thumbs up leaving Flagstaff.

I know, I know, you're asking, when are the real pictures going to arrive?  Now.  FINALLY.

We made it!  Our plan A was to drive to the Desert View Campsite inside the park and see if there were any walk-up sites available.  Lo and behold, there were, so we snagged a spot there for the evening.

After we had checked it out and officially reserved our spot, we headed down the road to peek at the canyon.  

This was my very first time visiting the Grand Canyon.  It was beautiful, yes, but I think what is the most amazing about it is its sheer size.  It's almost incomprehensible, and it is certainly not able to be captured in a photograph.  

The Grand Canyon allows dogs on paved trails, and since that's all we could do anyway with the stroller, Ralph joined us the entire time.  Dare I say he was almost more popular with the other sightseers than the canyon itself.  I lost count how many people stopped us about him, or said hi, or had their kid run away from them to come give him a scratch.  

From the Desert View lookout we drove the 30 miles west toward Grand Canyon Village.  The Grand Canyon gets an A++ for accessibility.  We didn't ride any of their shuttle buses so I can't speak specifically to how accommodating those are, but we were able to get our car where we needed to go even without using her speciall National Parks Access Pass.  The trails along the rim were wide and paved and all of the lookout points that we went to had ramps that allowed us to get all the way to the edge.  

As expected, it was packed with people, a surprising number of whom spoke French.  

The altitude was exhausting for everyone (it's over 7000' in some spots).  I have never felt so winded walking up four stairs in my life.  Ralph hitched a ride in the stroller with SB, which brought even more attention to him from others.  

At the aptly named Grandview Point.

There were lots of places to climb down to pretty easily, but they were not for us and our wiggle worm.

We headed back to the campsite, made dinner, and went to bed.  There were only four massive bug incidents on my part before I finally went to sleep.