The weather chaos at Grand Canyon Airport cleared quickly. Our planned longer flight had risks though and remained in doubt. So we changed to a more direct flight to the west that avoided the remnants of the earlier storm. $100 refund. Hopefully!
I struggled into the helicopter, feeling more excited about the mode of transport than the route. A female pilot. I assume her four stripes means she’s more qualified than me to fly this thing.
A sweeping motion just feet off the ground was followed by hovering just behind the row of helicopters. Then acceleration, still feet from the ground, before finding open space and rising above the main runway of the airport and heading towards the Canyon.
Trees below. Lots of them. Then hovering at the edge of the massive drop that is The Grand Canyon.
I don’t have the words to describe the marvel of this huge hole carved out of the ground that has provided me with perhaps my favourite two moments in life. If you exclude being present at the birth of my son or watching Matt Smith score a 94th minute equaliser against Everton in the FA Cup fifth round, 2013.
There was no deepswooping action from the copter, more nervous stuttering in the turbulence, but the colours of the canyon captivate the mind even more from height. The sheer size amazes. The beauty, surely, unquestioned.
It only lasted half an hour. But as OMG moments go, it’s a winner. Box ticked off on the list. Awesome. Screw the price, everybody should do this!